Home, Photography

Country Bumpkin

Fresh in posts that don’t write themselves, a seven day hiatus between the last Han Friday and here, while I headed home for a normal-sized weekend that ended up feeling long, and spent my summer evenings soaking up the heat. The weekend, perhaps more moderately temperatured than the sweltering past five days, was great – for reasons beyond the fact that I warped the space-time continuum and seemed to spend three weeks there rather than two nights. We made several coffee-and-cake trips (new favourites: The Lavender Bakehouse and hazelnut brownies from the cafe at Brewery Arts), and poked around the new stock at Pegasus Arts, which is fast becoming the best outfitter to even your slightest artistic tendencies (I’m saving up for watercolour pencils). And then we just hung out, and walked on the common with the cows and buttercups and gallopy horses, and it was then I realised how terribly sweet the green grass of home looked.

{The Bakehouse + it’s stupidly cute cakes}

{Breakfast at The Bakehouse + tea in Pegasus, my long-time favourite art shop}

{Saying hi to the moo cows + cross-town traffic}

{The clearest of city skies + fresh blooms on evening walk home}

{Evening colours: hot pink lipstick, burnt orange brick}

*If you aren’t following me on Instagram (@rednailsandteacups) you can still view all my photos here*

Han Friday

{Lay Your Cards Out by POLIÇA: listening to this on repeat}

{Love Lou Mora’s smoke shots: more on his blog}

{Francis Ford Coppola’s Palazzo Margherita: I know y’all linking to it, but I want to go there too}

A pink themed week, to reflect it’s merry end, should National Rail hold up: at my Mother’s, in the countryside, with a large glass of cheap rose and proper home food. I’m so excited – and already trying to work out how much public transport might break down between here and the mainline station – that I can hardly type. So I won’t, and will instead leave you to get lost somewhere between POLIÇA’s debut album, Coppola’s southern Italy home, and the hazy Californian dreams of Lou Mora. Three lovely things, two lovely weekend days to fill, one hour until my train departs.

London, Photography

Wisteria Lanes

Because last week’s post proved popular, another Instagram update. Canny, eh? This weekend we pretended to be tourists in our own town, and perhaps on a little too little sleep (my fault), decided that seven hours of mooching around South West London was just the ticket to blow the cobwebs away. Or indeed, acquire a mild sunburn, as it turns out. But putting the perils of patchy cloud cover aside, it was a refreshing taste of life in quarters of the city where the inhabitants probably aren’t in the habit of waking up to find the friendly local lunatic has settled into an early morning routine of yelling “Bruv, bruv… BRUV. You got any change?” at every passing vehicle, person, dog. In fairness, this was adjusted to “love” when the ladies passed, but still: I forgot how nice Chelsea is for weekend wander. Evidence as follows, should I forget again.