Yes, that's right. My brain fails to think of anything that could be deemed more summery than the pairing of bolga baskets and plants, especially little palms.
March is a nice month. Spring officially starts and I start buying things for warmer weather (like the mules) because it finally feels like you can wear them in the foreseeable future. These are my 7 favourite things for this month.
Sadly my shower is just fine. There is no way I could justify a new one. Which, looking at all this shower porn, is a truly sad thing. You will agree with me once you had a look at that shower with a view. I wouldn't just need a new shower for that but a whole new home in the countryside though. It'd be a tricky thing to do in London and even though I live up high and no one can look in, you never know whether there might be six friends somewhere in a flat with a telescope calling you 'ugly naked woman'.
I've been on the hunt for a big new vase since I broke ours whilst trying to wash it. I find it quite hard though to find nice big vases, I tend to prefer the little ones that can only fit one flower at a time. Now that spring is on the way though I would like the flat to be full of massive wild bouquets of flowers all the time. Something that always works out so much better in theory.
I don't need a notebook. What I actually need is to get rid of some of the ones that I have got because it's way more than I could ever fill. There just aren't enough thoughts in my head. But as long as the stationary industry keeps on producing such beautiful journals I will have to buy them, I have no choice.
My dining room area, which is actually the tiny space between our open plan kitchen and the lounge, can only be described as boring. I'm not to blame. Before I moved in, my boyfriend committed one of the biggest, if not THE biggest, dining room sins: He bought matching wooden chairs and table. Luckily, with the help of some amazing chairs, this is an easy problem to solve.
I love plants. I really do. I get the feeling that they are less fond of me though as they seem to rather die than spend another minute in my company. I might not be completely innocent in their deaths, I hardly water them, and yet it surprises me when they do die on me (after ignoring all the warning signs like brown leaves or soil so dry it should only be found it the desert).