the cover story being how London bloggers reveal the details ("all the details", according to the tagline on the cover) of their sex lives: never fear, dear reader, you won't find such smut here, will you? no, not because I don't actually have a sex life - but because I don't blog about such stuff (as you, dear reader, know well)
instead I shall share with you the fact that second flower box of the cafe (I had to come out for coffee, having used up all the milk making smoothies for the POVS yesterday) has been replanted - no more weeds, but at least seven different varieties of lettuce (green leaved, red leaved, crinkly leaved, raggedy edged leaved, lambs lettuce leaved, red with white veins leaved and something quite indescribably) (I'd take a photo to give you a full visual, only the camera on my phone has given up the ghost again, so I'll leave it up to your imagination)
I was somewhat perturbed to find out, whilst searching Mrs G Image a while back, that my new haunt is frequented by various glitterati of the SWsomethingorother London scene, including, amongst others, a certain Colin Firth Esq and a Mr Nick Clegg. . .
Colin and Clegg consuming cappuccino in my fave cafe
both might be known to you in one guise or another (one for best chest in a wet 'n' wild linen shirt competition a few years back, one as being Chief Fag to GB's Current Head Boy) (and seeing as I don't do politics here either, I'll leave it at that) (and no, when I write the word "fag" I don't mean nicotine stick in this case, I mean this) (see, I might not "do" politics or sex, but I do "do" education) (in the broadest sense of the word, you understand)
not much of a competition, is it?
never one to force my opinion on anyone, I'll leave it up to you; but it does bring to mind something The Teen shared with me the other evening. . .