Earlier this week I celebrated a birthday with a round of French 75s, a hot bath and an eye mask. I know, hardly rock &
Find Wine!
Just as the change of season requires a change of clothing strategy (so long kaftans, hello jumpers AT LAST) so does the wine rack.
Much as I’ve loved drinking rosé in the sun, yelling ‘suncream!’ at the children every now and again, it’s really good to be back.
I’m not sure what day it is, the fridge is practically empty (despite having filled it with panic-bought food a few days ago) and the washing is out of control.
We’re off to a festival this weekend. And it’s my favourite kind of festival because it’s local, meaning I get to soak up the atmosphere and still collapse into my own bed at the end of it.
I’m currently 60% rosé, 40% hot dogs and the school holidays haven’t even started yet. I blame the weather. And the football.
I thought I could take it or leave it. You know, dip in and out as and when it suited me.
Last night our book club met at the beach. It was a glorious evening – calm sea, colourful sunset, cold rosé.
