ephemerette

image via plush palatte Hello world. How have you been? So I've had kind of had a rough time of it for the past few weeks and have been hiding away and brooding hence the radio silence, but its my birthday today *yay me* so I'm making a resolution to stick a smile back on my face and face the world again. A slick of eye-liner, a couple of glasses of champagne and some very good friends make my world a better place to live in. Hope everyone has a wonderful day x x x 

My heart broke yesterday. My naughty, beautiful companion for the past ten years, a little grey and white Persian cat named Smokey went to sleep for the final time after a 6 month battle with kidney failure. It all got too much. I fought and fought, I blindly spent whatever money it took. I woke up 3 times a night to hand feed him. I told him I loved him everyday. I did everything I could to keep him alive but his little body just wouldn't co operate. I didn't want him to suffer any more. Now I feel broken. I miss his raspy little tongue I miss the silky fur on his head the way he followed me around his grumpy little face I miss his kittenish meow even in old age I miss the way he tenderly patted my face to wake me up the way impatiently shouted at me for cuddles the way he slept in the crook of my arm the way he buried his head under my chin his huge golden eyes his gentle purr good night darling boy....

Despite the dizzying diversity of eating options available in London it's very easy to get stuck in a rut and stick to the same old reliable places when it comes to choosing where to eat out. I recently realised my friends and I no longer even discuss where to go to eat we just automatically shlep to the same regular haunts whenever we think of getting a bite to eat, so I've decided to instigate a monthly foodie adventure in an effort to branch out. As a result of this three of us spent an extremely pleasurable Saturday evening eating our way through a great six course meal at Fernandez and Leluu, an underground restaurant in deepest darkest east London. I'm not entirely sure when I first heard about the underground restaurant scene in London, but remember thinking the idea of talented home cooks running supper clubs from their front rooms was pretty intriguing, then I randomly stumbled across Fernandez and Leluu's blog run ...

photo via lucas allen I've had a tremendously busy and stressful few weeks dealing with endless deadlines, pointless family bickering, my not so healthly elderly father and and an equally unwell pussycat. So I'm declaring today as a holiday and I'm going to selfishly dedicate it all to myself by spending the day out with friends, shopping, eating and drinking yummy things and gossiping. Stress can wait, I'm not going to let it make me go gaga.

When my muscles ache and I'm stressed out. When I'm sick of being cold all the time. When my skin, ravaged by winter feels more like alligator than silk. When I catch the scent of roses from someones perfume. I mentally go back to my happy place le bains de marrakech .  Three friends and I spent half a blissful day here being steamed, scrubbed, rubbed and oiled in glorious moroccan style last year. We emerged dazed, blissed out and glowing with the best conditioned skin we'd ever had in our lives.  Although way fancier than a normal hammam which locals might frequent regularly for a stream, rub down and gossip in Marrakesh, the 5 star treatment we recieved cost only the equivalent of what you'd pay for a distinctly average massage in London. If you lucky enough to get away to Marrakesh any time soon, have a little wonder round the Kasbah, head for the city gate and you might stumble into the rose petal strewn corridors of this place. ...