A Little Milkmoon-ing Of Another Kind.

One day not so very long ago, on a bright sunshiney day I gathered my best-loved everyday things,  put them in my doughty, dependable bag and ran out, (leaving the door wide open for hedgehogs and lizards and herons to come calling) of this little blog-place I call Milkmoon, hair all asunder, cardigan-in-case-of-clouds all askew, and I think I may have lost a shoe. Or two. And in the last days of this most lovely of summers I lost my way too, followed too many white rabbits to too many beaches, took trains and boats and marvelous travelling contraptions to places I'd never seen (and some I had before).

We lost days and days and days I am sure. For it is the only explanation I can find for how we have ended up in the rainy windswept grey autumn place we are now. But I thought I would not spoil this lovely sunny memory with that just yet, so will keep those pictures tucked away in a brown paper envelope under my book pile for another day or so.

But I have returned. And look! A small flurry of leaves have crept in the door, a tiny mouse sits on the windowsill, and oh my, a film of dust on everything.

So I promise to set to work, to roll up my sleeves and polish and scrub and scour, and set to rights all that has slipped into this sorry, neglected little pile of Milkmoon-ness. And I will practice my extraordinary powers of ignoring the obvious, (in this case the fact that School has started again), and I will instead turn my attention to my trustworthy little car-companion: my Little Red Tin.

So here's to busy autumn fingers, and I hope yours is being productive too. And now, back to some proper blogging for this tardy lady. I promise.