I have the place to myself today for the first time in… oh about 18 months. John’s working a gig today, which I’m sure he’ll blog about later so I won’t ruin it here. We both woke up at 5 am on a Saturday, I made him some toast and sent him on his way. Over the last year he’s been the one to wake up with me before work and prepare my meal or coffee, it’s the least I could do.

I decided to take a little walk around the West End, unfortunately the Robson Market wasn’t open yet so I couldn’t browse around. Instead I got a coffee, enjoyed the fresh “it rained last night” smell and the warm morning sun. Then I did something I’ve been told every girl should do at least once; I bought myself flowers. I don’t know if it was the crisp spring air, the flip flops on my feet or the Grande dark roast in my hand but for a minute I felt a little odd. As though I should also have a snack dog in my purse, then I would be complete. That soon passed and I practically skipped home with my flowers in hand.

They’re pretty simple, I mean I’m not going to waste too much money on myself, what kind of girl do you think I am? But they’re a great addition to the dining room. All the laundry is downstairs dancing away and I can sit back, for about 45 minutes, enjoy my coffee, the sunshine, the flowers and actually feel pretty nice even after the devastating loss last night. I’m starting to think my husband should go to work every day.