This is a picture of my little dog Susan. She is resting after an exhausting tussle on the sofa with her toy.
You may be fascinated to hear a story about the red chair on which she is relaxing. It used to be my chair when I was a small person in Peckham. I was, and indeed am still, very fond of its uncompromising, cutting-edge interior-design styling. In fact, a few months ago I noticed my chair gracing the corner of a trendy house featured in a Sunday newspaper colour supplement. The proud and fashionable owners said they had rescued the chair from a rubbish heap in Peckham. I suspect both chairs must have been purchased from the same shop - posssibly Jones and Higgins.
I also notice, to my shame, a splodge of white paint on the parquet - testament to my careless decorating. The parquet has been behaving very much like a weather forecasting pinecone just recently - the gaps between the wood fillets expanding and contracting according to local humidity levels. Other things to point out in the photo include the knitted patchwork cushion - made by my daughter for a school sewing project and requisitioned without a by-your-leave by Miss Susan. The plant, a weeping ficus called Reginald, survived last Christmas in our garage and has been rewarded with a sunny aspect and a shiny blue pot made in Devon.