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pretty little thing

It’s been a really long day. 5.15 wake up call (honestly, why do these networking meetings have to be sooo early?  It’s like stepping back a year to my breakfast slot radio job).

Full on in the office.

Boiling hot (not that I’m complaining…finally some sunshine!).

Running this evening. Six 5 minute intervals in the warm air. Killer.

Home at 8.45 with a halo of frizz and a beetroot face, just as my housemate pulls up with a wave.

9.40 I emerge from the shower, slightly calmer and less salty than I went in. Martin calls upstairs to ask if I want to try a glass of his homemade elderflower champagne.  Erm, let me think about that…

He’s cooked up enough monkfish (good day on the sales rack at Tesco’s Baldock: £3 instead of a tenner!) and olive oil roasties (almost healthy) for two. Horah!

Mini-almond-and-toffee-magnums for pudding. I now have a smiley belly and he’s fairly and squarely off the hook for being quite so shit with the cleaning. He even washed up. Must threaten him with cleaning lady costs more often.

How do you top that? Well….

Getting ready for bed, I’m brushing my teeth and the bathroom mirror reflects a stray piece of scrubbing sponge back at me. Over I lollop (toothbrush in hand) wondering how the hell that got there.

Turns out it’s not a bit of AWOL scrubbing sponge at all, but the most beautiful opal green moth.

I’ve never seen anything quite like it. I’m momentarily mesmirized by it’s delicate water-colour wings. A teeny bit of minty froth falls from my mouth.

A moth.

A sea green moth?

Perched on the bathroom wall just above the radiator. Just hanging out; shooting the breeze; nonchalantly pretending  like it’s not been waiting for me to notice how stunning it is.

Pretty little thing.


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