I don’t feel like going home now, I wish that I could stay

 I’ve been being a real interesting person lately and living like a nomad on the run from the law (or from herself? Wow, I was profound just then); On Friday I was in London, and thought it a great opportunity, seeing as I had Christmas shopping to get started on, to go and see the lights on Oxford Street, and check out the window displays at Selfridge’s, with the obvious objective of getting some good photos. Not quite sure if I succeeded, but I had a blast anyway! It was FREEZING COLD outside and without the promise of the latest Lula magazine and a soya toffee nut latte from Starbucks I don’t think I would have made it through with all my fingers intact (whose genius idea was it to wear fingerless gloves in December? Oh yeah, mine).

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Thank God I had Doris with me, my favourite scarf/snood/blanket for all occasions; She was named Doris in honour of Doris Lessing, and was handed down to me from my equally nomadic mother. I say ‘handed down’, but really I mean bequeathed, or something more majestic that brings to mind a ceremony with lighted candles and people crying. For something that I cherish so much, I sure do take her a lot of dodgy places. She’s seen more than her fair share of hotel rooms, dusty floors, cloakrooms and various forms of public transport over the years. She’s seen the whole of Britain from a car window, which means, I suppose, that so have I, although I forget it most of the time.
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After London I went to Salisbury to spend some time with family, and stayed in a tiny B&B that gave me and my bro a mini-cabin all of our own!! I get very excited about things like that; actually, any form of temporary accommodation gives me a thrill. There’s something I love about sleeping in a strange bed, and the little boxes of cereal. When we weren’t out and about we spent all our time milking their Wi-Fi, watching hilarious YouTube videos of Jeremy Paxman interviews, or sharing pictures of men that look like wizards on Pinterest until about 5am. I think that’s the most ridiculous sentence I’ve ever written. Shamefully, it’s true.

When we actually went outside, we visited the Christmas Market (see below) and the Advent Fayre being held at the local Steiner school. They had beautiful homespun gifts and a selection of vintage clothes, which is always awesome. I don’t know of any place that wouldn’t be improved by a vintage rack. I picked up a knitted hot-water bottle cover with a winking owl on the front that is just adorable. Add to that more toffee nut lattes, more Christmas shopping, a visit to Salisbury cathedral, a HUGE bowl of yasai pad thai from Wagamama, no sleep, and there you have my first December weekend in a roasted nutshell.  
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