A bliss that tastes of strawberries and whipped cream

I finally moved the last of my belongings out of Liberty Quays, Kent University at Medway accomodation. I am out. It is finally completely off my hands. Staring out over Balham High Street I watch the cars and bright red double-deckers go past as the fruit and veg-guy packs up his raspberries and Jersey Royals for the day. The wind that carries the sweet smell of summer nestles its way in through the open windows and makes my boyfriend's pots of chillies on the windowsill dance in the setting sun. I can hear the laughter and muffled music from B@1 downstairs, and it mixes well with the sound of my guitar as I am tuning it.
It is the last day of June and I have absolutely nothing to do tonight. And on Sunday I am going to Sweden.

I can also tick two things off the list of "Things to do before death". Stevie Wonder and Paul McCartney was two breathtaking concerts. 50 000 people singing/belching/slurring/bellowing along to Sir Duke on Saturday night underneath a starry sky over Hyde Park and fireworks in the sunset to Live and Let Die on Sunday. I honestly don't know what to say. And those who know me can tell you - that is rare.