Meg Pickard:
Best pub in London?
Meg Pickard:
Pebbles
Meg Pickard:
Herzlich
Meg Pickard:
There are no depths to which the bulk sweet seller will not stoop
Meg Pickard:
I wish I knew why all these people were camping out in central London. Does the Debenhams sale start tomorrow or something?
Meg Pickard:
A sign
Meg Pickard:
In BCN
Meg Pickard:
Pyrenees
Meg Pickard:
The giants go for a stroll
Meg Pickard:
The long nose
Meg Pickard:
Brighton evening
Meg Pickard:
Brighton evening
Meg Pickard:
Someone on our street is getting a bit carried away about Friday's nuptials. Is it too late to leave the country?
Meg Pickard:
Newt!
Meg Pickard:
Newts in the pond
Meg Pickard:
The fruits of my labour (1)
Meg Pickard:
The fruits of my labour (2)
Meg Pickard:
Tadpoles WITH EYES
Meg Pickard:
Some sort of dragonfly thing
Meg Pickard:
Tadpoles with BIG HEADS and EYES
Meg Pickard:
Particularly proud of my aliums
Meg Pickard:
Bathing beauties
Meg Pickard:
Spangly hut
Meg Pickard:
Too loud, too bright
Meg Pickard:
Pinkie out
Meg Pickard:
Sitting at the end of the conveyor belt: basically a runway to my face
Meg Pickard:
First trip outside. There's a lot to sniff, apparently.
Meg Pickard:
Trained
Meg Pickard:
Screen shot of London and the home counties, as recorded by my iPhone's geodata
Meg Pickard:
A partial screen shot of my iPhone geodata, tracking my movements since August last year
