newtown girl...

When V saw how I was dressed this morning (a little haphazardly, I'll admit), he told me I looked like a Newtown girl

Me: Well what the heck does that look like?

V: You know, a girl in Newtown. Dressed all funky and stuff. And eclectic.

Me: Ohhhh, so not like a drug pusher then

EDIT: The above comment about drug pushers is intended as a joke - a JOKE people! I apologise for any offence caused. I do not believe that people who live in Newtown are drug pushers. Well, not all of them anyway

I told him that my actual inspiration this morning had been a combination of Daria and Holly Hobby

♥ Friends Couture dress

♥ Cue knit top

♥ Doc Martens

♥ Mimco cicada clip

♥ Jag bag with Oroton scarf tied on

Eeeeee check out mah boots! I am in love. And apparently am also certifiable, for wearing them in the middle of summer...

Lovelovelove my new Jag bag! I think precious laptop will actually fit in there as well, bonus!

In today's other news, V was up out of bed at the usual yawn-inducing hour of 5:15am - he was showered, dressed, breakfasted, and out the door, lunch esky and coffee clutched in his paws, by 5:30am. The usual.

And, as usual, I fed the cats, then carted them both back to bed with me, ready to sleep for another blissful 4 hours or so (nothing so relaxing as sharing a king bed with two snuggly cats, even if one of them does like to sleep wrapped around your head and chew on your ears occasionally).

What felt like seconds later, I was rudely awoken by the SOUND OF THE FRONT DOOR BEING UNLOCKED! And someone walking in! Nothing quite wakes you out of deepest slumber like the knowledge that SOMEONE IS IN YOUR HOUSE AND THERE SHOULDN'T BE ANYONE ELSE IN THERE BUT YOU AND TWO SNUGGLY CATS, BOTH OF WHOM ARE PRESENT AND ACCOUNTED FOR!!! (And both of whom are unable to open doors, due to a lack of opposable thumbs).

Whilst I am wildly casting about the room looking for a blunt force instrument with which to defend myself, a sheepish voice calls up the stairs and V appears - some doofus at his work messed up and told him they started back two days early. So the poor bugger drove all the way to Sydney, only to turn around and come allllll the way back again. I commiserate with him, whilst trying to restart my heart.

To make up for scaring me half to death, V makes a pot of coffee. And seeing as I'm AWAKE now and all, I go downstairs and join him in breakfast (or maybe for him it was morning tea)

Homemade lemon butter makes everything better!

xoxo