"Across the street from a yard
there is a house
beyond this room
where the walls, blotted out in red, are plotting a rebirth" fashionandfables
Mais Qui. I have a pulse. I am still here. I checked. Apologies.
I could bombard you with a ton of excuses, but i don't really like excuses. The truth is i have not made this blog a priority because i haven't. Shame. shame. Funny random tangent about the "shame" thing. When i was a kid in primary school in Nigeria. Ilorin, to be exact. Whenever you did anything wrong your classmates formed a circle around you and would then proceed to raise their hands at you and say shame. HELLO. Such horrible technique. Some teachers need psycho analysis. Luckily, i had SUPERTED cartons at home :)
But i digress.
I know, i have left you, my audience, feeling a tad neglected. Heartfelt Apologies. with CAPITALS! If that doesn't signify regret, remorse and what's the other R i am looking for?
Well, i was a little preoccupied with other stuff: work, making jewellery, yoga class, making excuses as to why i am not blogging :)
Also, i have been settling in. Being uber homebod girl. Well, not entirely but more than i normally am.
So pictures of my home. Above and below
Oh oh, Ms. Woolf. is Virginia Woolf. That is Virginia of the Bloomsbury set? Ringing bells? She wrote a number of things when she wasn't lying depressed in her room wailing or something. Oh , must not speak ill of the dead. oeps. Anyways, she also wrote " A Room of One's Own" an essay. Only got half way. oeps.
Watch "The Hours" interesting take on her life if you can't be bothered to read a novel.
But yes, excuse the messy desk.
