Choosing a path through the park on the way home. At 4pm.
My first mulled wine of the season. In a tipi, on a roof.
Jonathan coming in, immediately pleased that we might be rid of Claudia in a month.
Archives for posts with tag: mulled wine
A queer fayre with my first mulled wine of the season.
Jam with silver bits in. Hello glittery poo!
Carving a ring.
A night of knitting, pizza, mulled wine and Christmas songs. Starting with this beautiful pike of unraveled wool.
The fox sauntering down the road after work.
Feeling happy. Really genuinely happy. Like the old me happy.
A spot of sewing, turning a collared shirt into a more simple neckline.
A wander down Exmouth Market, buying nice wine, handmade leather purses, cute cards and mulled wine for two, for a chat with a friend.
Feeling positive. Feeling good. Feeling like it’s all going to be alright. I like myself. I’m proud of myself. I’m doing good.
The beautiful cloud formations on the plane.
Discovering the British passport has a UNICORN on it.
SNOW! Chamonix. FRANCE! Drinking hot wine outside with the stunning mountains in the background. The horse wearing a hat! The drummers. Touching a ski. Finding the crisps.
The ice hockey match. The shouting in French, the men, the crêpe, the fondue, the winning.
That’s loads more than three but it’s been such a fun day.
A mulled wine. Because why not.
A quick hour with my sister in law.
Walking home, just feeling happy.
A friend telling me how much she values my friendship.
Going to a mince pie and mulled wine party, walking in the door and it smelling like Christmas.
Talking about puppetry of the penis.
