I am getting beach withdrawals. It’s been well over a week since I felt the sand between my toes and I am all pale and shaky about it. A few months ago, I couldn’t even fathom a life where my day started with a sunrise walk on the shoreline, now I would feel like my liver was missing without it. I have a beach bag that lives by the front door, various jars dotted around the house filled to the brim with treasured shells and driftwood and most days when I get in to bed, I usually have to get out of it and brush the sand off the sheets. It’s everything I had hoped for and more.










I can’t take any credit for these pictures. These are all Jordan, who managed to drag me out of bed kicking and screaming before the sun came up to take photos…. before the coffee shop even opened. And shockingly, turns out half of Sydney is up at that time on the weekend anyway. Jogging, yoga-ing, boxing and surfing. Without coffee. Sickos.
What I’ve been up to? Drinking Coopers and hanging out in flip flops and 














This cheered me up no end. Also, this might be the first time Gwyneth and poo are mentioned on the same page?














