The ?At-Home? Diaries: Eye Spy
The day starts early here.
The post The “At-Home” Diaries: Eye Spy appeared first on Vicki Archer.
The day starts early here.
By 8 am I have read the news, seen the emails, walked for an hour and done a yoga session; yes, I’m starting early. And cooked the breakfast – porridge made with jumbo oats, blueberries and a naughty dash of maple syrup.
This is not my normal routine and while I don’t start my day late this is a switch up. I’m not sure why" Maybe to do with poor sleeping and a leftover swag of jet lag; it’s working out fine. I feel motivated and positive in the mornings and while it lasts I’m hanging on with both hands. Our deserted walks through the streets of Notting Hill and Holland Park have never been more beautiful. The early morning sun is casting a rosy glow on our beautiful streets and houses.
My eye is back.
Eye spy so much more and it is as if a veil has been lifted from my taking-too-much-for-granted eyes. Details lost in a flurry of unimportant hurry proclaim themselves daily; architectural details, divinely pastel houses, quirky boutiques and secluded gardens I never gave any real attention to. Every walk is a journey of discovery and to wander Portobello Road without the flaneurs is the joy in despondent times. The arcades are not what they once were but in silence, they have a charm of their own. Our one courageous fruit and veg seller battles on alone most days, serving long-standing and ve...
The post The “At-Home” Diaries: Eye Spy appeared first on Vicki Archer.
The day starts early here.
By 8 am I have read the news, seen the emails, walked for an hour and done a yoga session; yes, I’m starting early. And cooked the breakfast – porridge made with jumbo oats, blueberries and a naughty dash of maple syrup.
This is not my normal routine and while I don’t start my day late this is a switch up. I’m not sure why" Maybe to do with poor sleeping and a leftover swag of jet lag; it’s working out fine. I feel motivated and positive in the mornings and while it lasts I’m hanging on with both hands. Our deserted walks through the streets of Notting Hill and Holland Park have never been more beautiful. The early morning sun is casting a rosy glow on our beautiful streets and houses.
My eye is back.
Eye spy so much more and it is as if a veil has been lifted from my taking-too-much-for-granted eyes. Details lost in a flurry of unimportant hurry proclaim themselves daily; architectural details, divinely pastel houses, quirky boutiques and secluded gardens I never gave any real attention to. Every walk is a journey of discovery and to wander Portobello Road without the flaneurs is the joy in despondent times. The arcades are not what they once were but in silence, they have a charm of their own. Our one courageous fruit and veg seller battles on alone most days, serving long-standing and ve...
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