When I finally levered myself out of bed this morning and threw those curtains wide, it certainly was a beautiful day.
Stunningly blue skies, mild and bright and lovely. In mid-January? I'll take that.
Drinking in the morning sun
Blinking in the morning sun
Shaking off a heavy one
Very apt, since last night we were at our friends Diana and Jim's for a winter barbeque party, and as always, I was the last to leave...
One photo; that's all I took. The company and the chat and the wine made a poor blogger of me, but were conducive to an excellent night!
Still, I got up to take the kids swimming, and as we walked home, we spotted eight ducks on our local stretch of the River Sheaf. Four pairs, which we are hoping will produce some ducklings later in the Spring. Maybe the sunshine fooled them into thinking it was already time to get courting, and that's why they were all so perky.
A good day to wear my favourite 1970s Feminella coat, a gorgeous red-and-white checked confection in lightweight wool, complete with its original vinyl belt and the glorious piping detail. I always feel smart and sassy in it, even if I'm bleary-eyed from the night before.
1970s Feminella wool coat, cardigan and bangles - charity shopped
1970s dress and boots - Ebay
Tights and necklace - gifts
My tabby beauties, Jess and Willow.
I am a bit downhearted, having failed to be offered an interview for the job I applied for. A handful of hours, at minimum wage, and I didn't even get a look in, that's really worrying. Not to mention humiliating.
Oh anyway;
it's looking like a beautiful day...
Someone asked in a recent blog post which song we never get tired of hearing. (Please tell me in the comments if it was your post and I will personally apologise for my dreadful memory.)
[Edit:
it was Rachel, and she was kind enough to give me a Sunshine Award too. So thanks for that, Rachel, and what synchronicity that the name of the award links so well with this post, all by pure chance!]
I have many, many songs which fall into this category, and this is one of them. Uplifting, epic and anthemic, swooningly beautiful, yet typically Mancunian in its vocabulary and downplaying of emotion. Perfection.
And now I need to take my chamois-creased face off to bed!
xxxx
