After all how many more of you want to read my full moon lament? No show of hands, thought not.
And in all fairness I must link to Marie, who took time between her travels, and cooking and gardening to show me how to SUPERSIZE my previously puny shots.
I just returned from the garden hoping to find something to show you other than snowdrops, but alas, no. I can report the daffodil greens continue to grow, there are whorls of green around the base of the sedum and that even though we have snow in the forecast for tomorrow, my freshly pedicured feet didn't freeze in flipflops.
And I can only hope there wasn't another ambitious blogger out there searching for a shot who found me, the dictionary picture of bed head, with a sweater clearly buttoned by a 5 year old wandering around with a camera and a Lab.
Indoors is a different story. I have just baked a batch of granola, the house smells of cinnamon and honey, a big pink peony has just burst open in the kitchen and I'll be off to marinate a roast and fold some warm laundry.
Not bad, not bad at all. So I leave you with the question burning up the keyboards in Britain. Should she or should she not get a tattoo?
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