august feels

So it would appear The Great British Summer of 2017 is going for gold in the annual hide and seek championships because has anyone found her yet? And, like, why can't my hiding-the-fact-i-ate-three-scones-before-9am-today skills be quite so accomplished!? Life can be so unfair. But ARE WE DOWNHEARTED BY GLOOMY SKIES AND A LACK OF VITAMIN D?! Well, um, yes a little bit - but that's nothing a little (read: a fucking lot) of gin can't sort out. 

kindness is free, sprinkle that shit everywhere

I wouldn't blame you for thinking that little else went on in my head apart from Justin Bieber, Leo di Caprio, brunch, and cocktails on a continuous rolling loop. Which, to be completely honest, isn't too far from the truth BUT - on the odd occasion the loop skips and a spot frees up for me to think about something else...I've been revelling in the joys of being a more positive paula. Not all the time, mind, I'm not superwoman and after 1 hours sleep coupled with period pain all day on Thursday my new-found-posi-patience was really being put to the test, but in general, I've been drinking a lotta positivi-tea and am starting to feel the good karma returned. 

st tropez and lotsa vino

One thing that always becomes shockingly apparent on holiday is that my love of France knows no bounds. Like, for real there is no metaphorical or literal boundary to my enthusiasm, gusto and gratitude for everything French. I mean, it might be something to do with them producing more than 246 varieties of cheese, or their attitude to wine that can be summed up simply as ‘...want some?’, but nothing in the world makes me happier than a warm summer evening in the south of france (except, perhaps, picking up chocolate eggs in tesco for half the price following easter cos y'know - the only thing better than cadburys in egg-form is half price cardburys in egg-form. Everyone knows that).