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Forgive the plagiarism of the Madonna film, but I have been immersed in all things 1980s this week. I'm organising a staged shoot in September to promote my elopement photography. My concept is a 1980s inspired woodland elopement (think artsy, boho 1980s as opposed to the bridal froth of Princess Di) with a Stranger Things vibe. My mood board is overflowing and I'm amassing a great team of suppliers, including a local model, who just so happens to be a Kate Bush fan, a Stranger Things devotee and lover of all things 1980s. Coincidentally, Chloe grew up visiting my chosen woodland location as a child. Her boyfriend, Tim, who has also agreed to take part, is even rocking an 80s mullet hairstyle. Serendipity!
Immersing myself in work and play has never been more important after the loss of Caroline. We said goodbye in style on Thursday, all wearing a splash of colour to reflect her personality. As sad as the service was, it was a fitting tribute, with a church full to capacity and the celebration of her life became just that, in the sunny garden of a 17th Century coaching inn. Caroline would have found this photograph highly amusing.
A guest was forced to abandon her shoes at one point in order to cope with the humidity, steps and uneven surfaces on her travels to converse with everyone. Caroline was diminutive in stature and always appreciated a decent pair of heels; even more so a party. She would have approved.
Having already been excused from jury service to attend the funeral, performing my civic duty turned into a non event. I'd been rehearsing my dramatic "Guilty" voice (I jest) and bracing myself for a lengthy deliberation where I would give my best Henry Fonda turn in the jury room, but it was not to be. Every evening, I would receive the email to say that I was not required to attend Court the following day and at the time of writing (Friday evening), I have formally been discharged from jury service.
Given that the UK racked up its hottest temperatures on record, the central region, we reached a high of 36 degrees on Tuesday, the fact that I wasn't required was met with some relief.
This photo was taken when I was pondering whether or not to venture into the garden. Our view from the kitchen window, looking at the monster potted Gunnera Manicata outside; the light reflecting the kitchen cupboards behind me.
I went for it. We have never been more appreciative of our woodland garden, which allowed for short bursts of exposure of sun on our pale English skin en route to the shade of the trees at the very top. Here's a sun accented wild geranium at the bottom of the garden.
Old windchimes, claimed by spiders, glinting in the sunlight.
The rising sun in a cloudless sky just kissing the top of the laurel bush.
The corkscrew hazel twisting the light....
....and who did I find at the very top, hiding out in the tree house, which of course, now belongs to her? Lotte the cat of course. Lotte divided her time between the laurel bushes and the tree house, refusing to accept that it was actually cooler in the house.
On my return journey, I spotted the lace cap hydrangea blooming...
...glimpsed the house through the shade of the trees...
...admired the honeysuckle (very briefly, as by now, I was feeling scorchio)
...and paused for an ivy shadow selfie.
This photo reminded me of a series of barley shots I took a number of years ago, which included this weird and wonderful shot. Can you see the barley spirit?
We sadly had regular visits from the fire service because it's seemingly impossible to educate some people as to the dangers of setting fire to tinder box dry woodland vegetation. I wonder if they would feel remorse if the houses were engulfed in flames and lives lost?
Rewinding a little to a day or so before temperatures peaked, we were able to visit a vintage store I had discovered online. It's the area's best kept secret crammed to bursting with all manner of antiques and collectibles. I will be back because there was a Victorian Carriage Cloak with my name on it (although the price tag requires some alteration)!
