The Colour of… umm.Tulips.

The tulips were a lovely gift from my mother who made me promise, on GUIDE’S HONOUR*, this morning to buy some Buttercup Syrup for my cough.

So. No, I’m not well but yes I am reading (Geoff Dyer’s The Colour of Memory – very good, and entertaining) and yes I am writing again. Finished and subbed a short piece this week after reading Oliver Burkeman’s piece in the Guardian last weekend (Helsinki Bus Station theory). And yes, despite having zero energy I will stay on the bus, I will stay on the fucking bus, just for the ride. *No, I wasn’t a girl guide.