Walking is the best. Especially with a tiny dog.

When life gives you lemons...

...find someone who owns a little dog...

...and take him for a walk...

This is Milo. His owner (my friend Sarah) lets me take him out whenever I want. Woo hoo. 

I haven't been able to walk him for ages because walk and life and everything has just been so busy.

 But today I had some time to myself, so I emptied out my brain with some fresh air, while Milo trundled along beside me.

I was mostly staring at the floor, which is completely covered in leaves in some parts...

Milo was mostly searching for squirrels to eat (he didn't get any)...

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Lost Gardens of Heligan: Where is your coffee shop?

I need coffee...

My mum is mising Paul McCartney...

...and my brother is trying to rival my blog with a new one called 'Dave charcoals'...

Can we at least solve one of these issues with one of you guys making me a coffee?

Trees? What about you?

Oh, yeah, thanks.

Thanks for sending whatever you sent down from your leaves for me. It felt like it had teeth...

Something has bitten me...

Probably not a spider, as my mum has kindly illustrated above...

Or something from it's web.

Mum, why must you mock me when I have a fly in my pants and there's no caffeine to be had?

This will be my seat until coffee appears.

Strange...

The fly has gone but I see no cardboard cups trotting along.

Yet.

Maybe if I write annoying things on the wooden stuff here, my mum and brother will give up and find me a drink to shut me up?

'Mr Mendeleveev is the best', eh mum?

We'll see about that!

What's that, David?

You've GUFFED on the bench?

How rude...

Being hilarious and evil at the same time is so tiring...

Let me rest my flat foot for a minute.

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Charlestown: Barnacles vs Chalk

Charlestown is a beautiful place.

Everybody's chilling, the sun's nice and warm, and the barnacles are letting us sit on them without giving us too much hassle...

There's just one problem.

Well, two if you count the pair of pants these three spotted on the side of the road...

It is impossible to find a place to chalk here.

:(

"There's another beach over there", the old, wise man in the watchtower says.

 But we walk for miles and find nothing, so head back home to watch the Olympics and drink tea...

Wherever we go tomorrow, I think to myself, I'm going to write entire stories.

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Cornwall: Flat feet and other stories*... (*No other stories)

My family love walking. My flat feet do not. If feet could talk, by day 3 of our trip, I don't think anyone would have been our friend... (Our is me plus my grumpy feet)...

(Those feet up there aren't mine. Thankfully, I managed to persuade everyone to perch on a wall for a bit in Fowyer before my feet went into meltdown...)

Then we went to the beach and I managed to convince everyone to sit there for ages, too. I couldn't chalk (see above) but it was all good because the weather was LUSH and my flat feet were free to flap* around in the sunshine...

Amen to the beach.

For restoring our souls/soles.

*feet flapping took place on the rocks to the left of this photo 

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Falmouth, Cornwall: Chalk Prevention

We travelled to Falmouth yesterday. It took an hour to get there but it was totally worth it.

Friends... Small people...

CHALK!

Or not... *note hand waiting to rub out my fun*

Hiss

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Looe, Cornwall: Vicious seagulls?

Wandering around Looe, taking in the sights, staring at things I cannot buy and then THIS sign pops up...

WHY.

Why are they vicious? What have you done to them? I do not want seagull claws brushing my hair or a beak in my eyeball. No thanks.

*zips self up in coat and runs*

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Life Lesson #1

It sounds so obvious (I mean, we'd be dead if we forgot to do this for ages) but it's amazing what a long walk and some time to focus on the super basic things in life can do for the brain...

My sister always says that running makes her feel like she can deal with anything. My walk led me to a quiet place where I could do some chalking... 

This final photo has nothing to do with walking or breathing... 

I bought the plant from the Bluecoat garden yesterday when I was feeling a bit grumpy, and I wanted to share it with you because I think it's cute. 

(I can't face growing anything in the bulldozed yard yet... *see dinosaur post*)

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My chalkboards are getting smaller and they have orders on them....

Got a Henry Hoover. The man in the shop called out his name like he was a child waiting to be picked up from school. Is this what being 27 is? Running giddily towards a hoover? I quite like it...

 

I've also been busy this week buying bathmats, tiny easels and framing postcards of oddly shaped toys with strange eating habits.

 

I think I have become a domestic goddess. This is what it is to be clean and organised, right?

 

Sort of.

 

If only I could get the hang of keeping plants alive...

 

 

I feel like they are mocking me every time I come home to see another one withering away in the corner.

 

WHAT IS GOING ON. I FED YOU WATER. I LOVED YOU. YOU LOOKED GOOD. WHAT HAPPENED.

 

WHAT CHRISTMAS TREE LOOKS THIS DEAD ALL THE WAY THROUGH CHRISTMAS AND INTO SPRING?! WHY ARE YOU THE ONLY ONE. WHY CAN'T YOU SEE HOW SAD I AM.

 

Maybe if someone else waters them (Joe, I mean you) they will give in and live another day?

 

 

***

 

 

Liverpool, UK: Wake up early, do something good.

Wake up early, do something good.

Simple.

I guess.

*hopes to be here the same time tomorrow*

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