It's that time of the year. The grass is growing fast, and so is my hair apparently.
From today's photo shoot I can see that my fringe need cutting
So I got on the phone and fortunately my hairdresser could fit me in for a "quickie" later.
The Photographer was busy doing his Good Works, so I took some makeshift photos.
M&S side-zip stone crops with Woolovers breton-stripe-top in Linen/navy colourway,
with H&M denim shirt.
So, it's that time of year. The grass is growing. My hair is growing.
The garden springs alive and demands attention.
I'm busy doing a bit of work in the garden most days. The pergola's grape vines have been radically cut back, the wisteria re-tied and bushes and the olive trees pruned.
It's also Pollen Time! And on some days I am suffering. Today was one of those days.
My eyes were itchy and bleary-red. I dosed up on anti-histamine.
And lay down to "rest my eyes".
Of course, that is Pensioner-speke for a snooze. I woke up, checked my watch ... Cripes! Ten minutes past my hairdresser appointment. I jumped into the car and raced off, whilst observing the speed limit of course. I'd had missed my slot and she was wrist deep in some lady's foils, so I made a quick deal with her for a quick fringe tidy-up before both she and I go off on our holidays. Separately, I should clarify.
It's that time of year. And it's that time of life. Napping Time.
A la perchoine.