It's been a remarkably crappy day in our house today. Literally. Is there nothing more fascinating to a 7 month old boy than his own poo?
I'll spare you the details.
I had to walk to The Terrace this morning (a jaunty 2 hour return trip) and on the way I had to pass many, many of the old shops that I used to haunt when I had a job where they paid me what now seems like an outrageous sum of money. Oh, such good times were had back then. Shopping, purchasing, spending, accumulating...
As much as I would like to be stoic about being poor, there are some days when it's impossible. Like the days when the cutest little winter t-bar heels stare at me through open shop doors or when this season's cropped and fitted jackets call to me through the glass. Sigh.
All of this, of course, is just an excuse to post this: