Strawberry Moon

Yesterday's Full Moon also called a Strawberry Moon, as always an excuse for a strawberry daiquiri (first drink I ever mixed that doesn't make people want to take their life), some magick making, tarot reading, star gazing and mosquitos wrestling.

We have lucked out with this flat just outside Highgate Station. We knew what we collectively required from our new abode - bathtub (cmon that's a must), two equally (or as close to as possible) sized rooms, living room, garden or patio, landlady who's not a psychopath and keeps to herself unless WE decide we urgently need her assistance in any way - and of course all wrapped up in the rent that's about third of our salaries, not more.

That part was easy. The part when you find out it's impossible was harsh & it nearly broke our spirit. (The endless string of flat viewings and calculations and compromises will do that to you.)

The little terrace you climbed onto from a window in our bedroom captured my heart straight away. It soon became a platform for learning about keeping plants alive, stargazing, disturbing our neighbours with swatting at mosquitoes loudly and cursing profusely.