Has Spring finally sprung?

I've gone a bit postal the last couple of days. Has there been a full moon? I don't know. All I know is that this morning, and yesterday (ok, and the day before) I've just wanted to cry. Cranky, inarticulate, toy-dropping tears.

Hormonal, homesick too maybe, and really just ready for a break in the weather.

At Lovely Boy's suggestion, this afternoon we left the house. It was 18 degrees - heatwave, I know - and headed for a stroll through Hyde Park and Come What May.

The crowds in Hyde Park willing the sun to get its shit together

The sunshine was weak - like a muscle released from a six week cast, withered and not sure it really remembers what to do. But undeterred, it seemed everyone was desperate to make the most of this mirage of Spring, running towards it literally and otherwise and just hoping not to end up with a mouthful of sand.

No sand thankfully and no real need for sunscreen - but sunglasses and slip on shoes sans socks! Woo!


Wandering through Hyde Park, we then ambled down Oxford St (detouring into Topshop along the way for some husband-sponsored retail therapy. Yes, my happiness can be bought...) before ending up at Patty & Bun on James St, a couple of blocks from Selfridges towards Wigmore Hall.

I'm still not sure I needed a grease-laden, albeit delicious, hamburger after my prolonged doughnut binge of last week but the charming service, low maintenance decor and punchy music gave the joint a real buzz and after licking our fingers clean, it also gave us a good excuse to keep ambling.

 

Through Mayfair, down across Green Park and then through to Victoria and home.

It was probably premature but getting back to the house I was so shaken from my winter stupor (and so desperate) that I swapped out all my winter woollens for my summer clothes and had myself a little montage moment with my jewellery.

Scarves do not good friends make with earrings and necklaces and so my inner bower bird gets sent sorrowfully south for the winter when the woollens become a daily fixture. And really, I miss them. In a tragically superficial, identity-defining nonetheless way. I may have gone over the top...

But really, if these sunny days are only going to be intermittent, I need to make the most of them.