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Wolves in London

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A boy’s favourite things

April 24, 2014August 24, 2014 ~ Wolves in London ~ 3 Comments

I’m the oldest of four siblings, all born within six years of each other. (Looking back now, with the experience of having my own family, I wonder how on earth my Mum coped without having a serious breakdown, or running off with a Greek waiter at least once in my childhood. But, to the best … Continue reading A boy’s favourite things

Hello!

Hello hello, lovely to see you, thanks for stopping by. I'm Sabrina: writer, plant lover and seller of houseplant boxes. This blog is where you can shop for a plant box, find advice with my plant care guides, or even take a deep dive into my archives and find general life musings from the past eight years!

Recent posts

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  • Meet the houseplant: Calathea orbifolia March 16, 2021
  • Meet the houseplant: Pilea peperomioides November 12, 2020
  • Meet the houseplant: satin pothos November 5, 2020
  • Meet the houseplant: Maranta leuconeura ‘Fascinator’ November 3, 2020

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After the excitement of having a story chosen for an anthology and another shortlisted in a writing competition at the start of the year, I decided to get some new bio photos taken professionally. I did a shoot with the absolutely lovely @camillagreenwellphotography and am soooo happy with the results! These are a few of my faves. Camilla was so incredibly lovely, and also deeply patient of the fact I am the most awkward person ever in front of a camera, ha ha. (What do people DO with their arms?!)
It’s finally that time of year again…
Rainy Saturday morning. Off to exercise class and then back home to curl up on the sofa and read a book. (Almost tempted to light a fire, the weather is so fucking bleak for April 1st…)
Grief is a complicated thing. It is 15 years today since my first son died — ten months old, asleep in his cot at home when I was out at work. Everything has changed in the years since and in some ways I can hardly imagine how that other life of mine would have played out if he hadn’t died. At other times, I remember the phone call I got from the Homerton as I left work on that day, and the pain is just as deep as it was in the moment. It’s been written many times, I know, but grief doesn’t ever really lessen, you just learn to grow around it, to grow alongside it. You learn to adapt as the rest of the world continues on and people forget, and you become one of the only memory keepers. Which itself is another complicated thing.

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