Welcome to my Cottagecore Cotswolds era. You might notice me swearing at my dodgy fireplace for smoking in the house, or picking shrubs from your garden to make homemade candles with because all of my plants died. Maybe you’ll smell burning, as yet again, a home baking project turns into food for the birds, which even they reject.
If you see me out and about with a birds nest on my head and last nights mascara smeared down my face, yes, the church bells did keep me up all night (whose idea was that?). Or maybe you’ll catch me on my hands and knees in the mud of your front lawn foraging for Just The Right Sticks for the aforementioned asbo fire because the house is 11 degrees.
Adulthood has me at my absolute finest. Falling, breaking, learning, leaping. Losing all hope and finding it again in the quiet colours bursting through the winter undergrowth, hoping we won’t notice their beauty.
I’m humbled and overwhelmed and lost and found and exactly where I need to be all at the same time.
This life is a perfect wonderful mess.
LYL xoxoxo