“A guitarist or a drummer can get a cold and still play; I get a cold and sound like a wet mitten trying to sing you a love song. Charming.”
― Tori Amos

Jeff and I both caught colds this week and so things have been fairly quiet around headquarters. But several packets of Riccola and an ungodly amount of tissues later, we’re on the mend. We had to raid Boots for supplies at one point, looking slightly like death warmed over, but good came out of it. I’m now the proud owner of a Boots points card, surely the next thing to citizenship for going native.

Tonight we’re hoping to invade the Natural History Museum for their annual Science Uncovered festival (because we are unrepentant nerds, and because I have a natural delight in being able to get into areas that are usually off limits – legally of course!). Other than that I’ve dedicated the weekend to finishing a largeish project for a client and dragging Jeff to Portobello Road with me at some point. The guy’s been working hard on his home study assignments, I’ve been plugging away at freelancing, and with a cold on top of it we haven’t left the house in a couple of days now. Unacceptable!

Interesting report. Jeff and I had relatively cheap cable for a year or so when we were first married, but when our contract ran out and the price was going to go up we just unsubscribed. And we’ve never looked back.

Kids, this alone could be your links post!

NY and LDN fashion weeks are behind us, let’s celebrate with something fashion-y, yes? (Also, American minions. Since we tend to be about 6 months behind what I see in London: muted pinks, skirt suits [in the Dior New Look vein], sheer detailing, and large graphic floral prints. As Miranda Priestly would say, “Groundbreaking.”)

You. Are. Welcome.

Knowing my love of emeralds, Jeff sent me this. Woof!

There is to be another Poirot novel! At first I cocked my head to the side and narrowed my eyes a bit in suspicion, but as I’m no purist (and as apparently Agatha Cristie’s grandchild has approved it) I withhold judgement. Although I KNOW Jessica (the artist previously known as Venice) will have opinions on the subject, she is a devotee of “ze little grey cells.”

Fun fact! In the Edwardian era (Downton Abbey returned on Sunday here in the UK, by the bye, sorrynotsorry for the saturation) there was a brief rage for high society women getting tattoos. Lady Randolph Churchill, nee Jennie Jerome, a famous American socialite and beauty and Winston’s Churchill’s mother, is said to have had at least one. A snake curling around her wrist, no less. She also had an affair with a king, take from that what you will.

Really good tips! I’m alternating between my mobile and digital camera constantly trying to figure out how to take photos. I was not born under a photographing planet…

Hm, perhaps a revival of this curiosity might cut down on street harassers?

SOON.

I find these medieval illustrations of snails in combat to be oddly charming.

Moving. (h/t Jessica)