Tiny Paddington Chill

Mornings with a small person are precious AF, Marylebone is not Paddington, and daughters can fish.

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Anyone who experiences mornings with a small person shall know this to be true. Those mornings? Precious AF and not to be Captain Bloody Obvious but it bears repeating: They are precious. AF. The little hands? The little feet? The messy hair that smells like biscuits? All factually accurate and being present for it, a gift. I was reminded of it recently and I am grateful.

Breakfast is a bougie peanut butter on rye and mixed seed sourdough, blueberries mostly for the tiny one, hot orange juice (with bits and yes, seriously, just microwave it for a minute and try me), and very good coffee. I put some cartoons on for her and try to snatch twenty minutes at my desk. Today’s post for socials is supposed to be landscape or ephemera and it’s supposed to be monochrome and I still don’t have anything.

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Photo courtesy Jon Dodd - purchased @ auction - tog unknown

I open up a file that has a whole bunch of scans of vintage Kodachrome slides I purchased at auction a while back. We haven’t had one of these in a while and so I jump in, eventually unearthing a stunning shot of a railway station platform / car park, circa sometime in the ‘60s? This ticks at least 1.5 boxes as far as my self-imposed brief is concerned and after a quick and totally unnecessary pass in Lightroom, I have a not-too-big jpeg air dropped to my phone for later this afternoon…

I check with a few people, work, the band to see if anyone has a better handle on where exactly we think it might have been taken… The UK? Most likely. London? Probably but where? My best guess is Waterloo although in my not-so-secret heart of hearts, I want it to be Marylebone. I hedge my bets on both and stick a pin in it for now.

It’s gone midday already but I realise that if we leave now, we can pick up a new litter tray scoop on the way