Artist's Journal

  • All the News

    I had a little fig tree. I planted it a few years ago and it’s not so little anymore. In fact, it’s making a takeover bid for my little seaside garden. It’s been growing mostly horizontally this year, and it’s reached about 12 feet. I planted it because nothing at all seemed to grow in my dry shady chalky soil, and the snails hiding in the crumbling garden walls would eat any tentative green shoot. But I really love figs. And now I have Mr Figgy and he’s taking over the world! 

    Granted it’s not quite as spacious in my little urban plot as formerly. And walking down the garden path is a bit of an obstacle course. The dense blanketing canopy of fig leaves has taken the light from my small but carefully chosen collection of snail hardy geraniums. Everything is so dark, strangled and weedy. And will those tiny figs ever even ripen?  

    Does anyone remember the story of The Old Woman in the Vinegar Bottle? One of my favourites as a child and it often comes to mind at times like these. Sometimes I think I am that old woman. It’s as if the kind fairy granted my wish for a strong luscious plant that could withstand my barren terrain. But as I sit, cramped up on my bench, beneath its rampant sticky branches I find myself wishing for something smaller and more ornamental. And I reflect on how easy it is to be sad and ungrateful even though I have everything I need. And most of what I asked for. 

    Oftentimes when I feel blank or numb I try to think of something I can create or do to change things up. And there are random unexpected happenings in the air (not least my self-published 2025 calendar with YOUR PETS IN - but more of that later). 

    It was 2008 when I had my last puppy: the World-Famous Stanley Philpot. How did I manage to find a world-famous puppy? Well sometimes they just fall from the stars and launch a whole range of gorgeous stationery, anyone remember that?!  

    Dear departed Stan was the mischievous side kick to both Sir Moses Browndog and my very special Betty who joined us at 3 years old. Betty loved to play with Stan but now, unable to walk and run as fast as she used to, misses out on the regular doggie boxing and raggling sessions in the park. For my ‘crossover dog’ and to provide a new lease of life for Betty, I’ve been searching for the perfect little docile puppy lump. And I’ve found a Newfoundland mix who will be joining us in 4 or 5 weeks. I’ll name this puppy Birdy. 

    But we’ve just found out that Betty will be leaving us sooner than expected. I can’t talk about it yet. But so many of us will know how that feels. The sad part of the circle of life. We have just a few quiet precious days together now. So I’m cancelling my November open studio but still going ahead with the small planned online show. I’ve had to segue this piece of upsetting news into my otherwise informative upbeat newsletter, so please forgive the jolt. The new work will be dedicated to Betty, and indeed all your own pets, both here and sadly departed. I’ve always believed the best way to handle loss is to create something new, spreading a little joy through the sadness. 

    THE NEW CALENDAR

    The regular 2025 calendar is available worldwide right now direct from the publishers The Art Group. But for the first time in many years I’ve decided to release my own self-published calendar. Working with Amber from Little Mustard Club we will be creating what will necessarily be an altogether more exclusive affair.  

    There’ll be just a couple hundred printed (it’s an expensive business) and when they are gone they are gone. They’ll sell out quickly no doubt. I’ll let you know in the next newsletter when to expect them (mid-November time). 

    We are thinking:

    Beware of unlicensed shoddily produced stolen reproductions. There are so many especially online. Genuine licensed products bear the copyright symbol of both the publisher and myself. If you can, buy from the publishers direct: The Art Group for posters/canvas/calendars/merchCollier Dobson for limited edition printsArtPress for cards. Be vigilant. As soon as we shut them down, others surface. If the price is ‘too good to be true’, it probably is. 

    THE ALL-NEW LITTLE MUSTARD CLUB 

    Your valuable feedback has encouraged a new approach to our little Club. If you’ve always wanted to join in but found a £65 annual subscription too expensive in these difficult times, 2025 may be your year to join us: Instead of providing the dear (but costly) membership boxes, we will instead be including offers and surprises in our regular newsletters for a fraction of the cost. And super early signups for 2025 will receive our exclusive calendar as a complimentary gift (while stocks last). All for £22. If you are quick, you could even see your pet in the calendar, and receive your signed priority copy before the holidays … Details here. 

    2025 Club membership will include further opportunities to see your pet in my pictures as well as the year round discounts, a generous one-time-use sign up discount at www.samtoft.co.uk, access to both the Club Room exclusives and the priority list for the Samtoftoriginals shows, plus exclusive specials at our studio events.  

    NEW ONLINE SHOW 
    I was planning a cosy Club event at my private studio this November. But although this is cancelled now, we are moving it online. November 29th is the launch date of the next show at www.samtoftoriginals.co.uk 

    ‘Live as you are. But not today’ is the title of my new collection. Something I’ve learned from Betty. These last days, all I’ve wanted to do is cry. But I’m keeping things ‘normal’ for Betty. As a sensitive dog she picks up on emotions fast. There’ll be time enough for tears when she’s gone. 

    We will have a few jig dolls and ceramic Dorises, brand new mixed media paintings, limited bronze editions and some small original drawings in vintage frames. The last online show for a while.  

    Priority Access for Club members and previous samtoftoriginals buyers with a secret online code. And in the spirit of spreading the love, I’ll be selling one of the pictures to raise funds for a fabulous little primary school in Kenya I visited on my recent trip. They have absolutely nothing. Children walk miles each morning on an empty stomach. How can they hope to learn on empty stomachs? Hopefully together we can buy a few books, food and supplies to keep them going for another year. We have so much, and they have so little.  I may post a few pictures and videos on my new social media account once I have time after Betty has passed. 

    NEW SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNT  
    If you are one of those who has missed me on social media, it is because my accounts @samtoftartist were hacked at the end of May and although everything is still there, I can’t gain access to post anything. No luck with the Facebook ‘help line’ (there isn’t even a dedicated Hacked Accounts department). But I’m rising above all that. Amber is still managing our Little Mustard Club social media @littlemustardclub with fabulous regular updates for you on Facebook and Instagram. I’ll be starting a small new account @samtoftart  on Instagram which will focus on my pictures, my thoughts, my dogs, my studio and all things Mustard. I’ll send occasional emails to all of you on this email list of course plus Club members will get additional  more regular newsletters from Amber (and I always write an extra little message in there too).
     *******************************************
    At time of writing I have just picked my first soft sun warmed fig. And figs are one of my most favouritest of fruits. So expensive and often disappointing from the supermarket, my homegrown fig was even sweeter than those I’ve picked on a Greek island Summer holiday. I may even consider planting another and I’ll see if there’s a place to bury a vinegar bottle beneath!  
    It is both too early and too late for little Birdy pup to come into our lives. But I’ll make the best of it, you know I will. And who knows, there may be a little treasure waiting for us all somewhere over the rainbow? 
    Big love x
    Sam Toft   
  • It's a Wonderful World

    I’ve been hacked.

    It happened so fast.

    It was really spooky to have messages from thieves arriving in my inbox at silly o’clock. I felt angry and scared at the same time. Invaded even. But maybe it’s not a huge sinister crime syndicate wanting to kidnap and torture Mr Mustard. More your spotty youth working for a ne’erdowell, cramped in a damp basement somewhere not very nice at all. And there was me, lying propped up in bed early morning with a cup of tea checking emails with my lovely big dog snoring into the linen duvet.

    But still. A moment of not thinking straight and now all the social media platforms I’ve been slowly building for the last 20 years have locked me out.

    They played the long game I think. Offering me virtual badges and awards for jumping through hoops. I thought it’s what I needed to do to get on the right side of the algorithm. And then “Instagram” sent me this new mail full of praise for how I’d been running my accounts with daily posts and lots of engaging Stories… they said they wanted to reward me further. I was going to win big. They just needed to verify my identity with my password.

    I’ve never been much good at winning things. One Third Prize and a Highly Commended throughout my childhood. Can’t remember any gold stars after infant school. No Prefects badges or Head Girl status for me and even my Highly Commended was disappointing. It wasn’t my best work.

    The category I chose was Garden on a Sand Tray for the local schools display at a summer show. There were only three other entrants (the first, second and third prizes) and the advantage they had (I realised too late) was bringing their trays empty and laying out their gardens in the tent. Whereas I had carried mine across the fields. Three stiles. My tray garden looked like Uncle Quentin’s back doormat at the end of Five Go to Smugglers’ Sands.

    And my Third Prize wasn’t much better. It was for the Religious Figures category. I really liked spending time at our local church and wanted to make something to impress the vicar, so I decided to create a Virgin Mary out of a toilet roll tube. I remember it was going well until my art teacher suggested I gave her ‘a nice big smile.’ I felt too shy to disagree but the Virgin I was basing my sculpture upon was the one who had just watched Jesus getting crucified. So when the teacher helpfully twisted her red crepe paper mouth into a grin, I tried to alter it later when the glue had gone tacky. The scarlet dye had run down the carefully painted face, and the glue made it look like a glossy grimace. Like I say, not my best work.


    Isn’t it strange how, at any age we like a little acknowledgment of our efforts? Whether it be for making a mess on a sand tray or gaining 28k followers on Instagram.

    So when I woke up too early on a Saturday morning and found an email waiting to let me know I had been awarded a new badge I forgot everything and just clicked.

    And now, when I’m away on my big birthday trip I won’t be able to keep in touch as I’d planned with terribly glamorous shots on Instagram. I didn’t really fancy any big celebrations so I’m spending my party money on a trip to Africa. Then when I’m back I can get on with the rest of my life.

    TWO LOVELY FREE THINGS

    There’s a new addition to my YouTube channel. And if you’ve ever wanted to see inside Brown Dog Studio, this is for you! I’d love to hear what you think of it!

    Gabe Alborough, my partner’s son and talented young film maker, made a short documentary film from hours and hours of footage he took over three days. It’s an insight into my personal process of painting preparing panicking (and hula hooping) before a little archive sale at my private work studio in Brighton. Back when I was 59. Imagine that.

    For Club members, there’s a chance to win a brand new super remarqued print… see @littlemustardclub on Facebook or Instagram for details of how to enter. I’m so grateful that my mistake with the hackers did not affect Amber’s accounts.

    I hope this email finds you well and that you’re managing to cope with all that life is throwing at you.

    I hope you enjoy the summer solstice celebrations and that perhaps you’ll pick up a bargain in the Tofty Birthday Sale.

    And I hope you are wise enough to NOT click on one of those pesky hacker’s links. Apparently, some people do…

    Until the next time, lots of love from the Big Clicker,

    Sam Toft x


  • Twenty More Bluebell Woods

    A good friend asked me a question the other day. How much is a million, he said. That’s easy I thought. Six zeros with a one in front of them, right? I don’t often know the answers to random questions so I was feeling quite chuffed. And then he asked how much was a billion. And do you know what, without Google we didn’t know.

    But what I DO know is how little understanding I have of big numbers. Like how many pebbles there are on Brighton beach or how many light years it would take to reach a distant planet. These numbers seem to hit my brain like a thick pea souper. I can get my head around hundreds but anything in the thousands and above starts to get a bit sticky.

    So I surprised myself when I chose my new read at City Books recently because it was its title that made me pluck it from the shelf. Four Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkeman. I really like his writing style but I don’t usually go for ‘self help’ type books. Just this one has cast quite a spell on me.

    It’s a Time Management book that encourages the reader to do less. Apparently if I live into my 80s I have less than a thousand weeks left. If I’m lucky, that’s just twenty more seasons at my favourite bluebell woods.

    One of the benefits I’ve noticed about my own aging is that there are fewer demands on my time. And I’m reading that even in a long life we have time to do only the tiniest fraction of the things we’d planned.

    It’s such a comfort as I’d always imagined I had to try my hardest to do everything I could think of! Reading this book really takes the pressure off. And I’m realising that most of my favourite pastimes aren’t the super exciting ones. I’m not a thrill seeker. I like walking in the woods, doing a bit of painting, appreciating the little things.

    As I sit here on a mossy log in the heart of Stanmer Woods it occurs to me that this may be the Perfect Spring day. A tad too warm for me and Betty but the smiles on the faces of passers by more than makes up for that. In fact it feels as if everything is smiling.

    Today I’m marvelling at the abundance of early Spring flowers and the rapidity with which they form dense dotty carpets under leafless trees - as if their lives depended on it. Which I suppose they do.

    The Winter Aconites with their little faces like stars in the Heavens. The Lesser Celandines with their watercress leaves and shining golden petals. They look so delicious I’m imagining they could taste lovely in a salad (maybe like pineapple flavoured cucumbers?). And those Sweet Violets pushing their tiny purple heads above the mossy banks. So romantic and delicately showy: it always feels like such a privilege to notice them. And how many sycamore seedlings there are! They’re really trying their best to take over the whole planet!

    So, refreshed from my retreat in the woods, I’m deciding to do something a little more sociable. I’m having an Archive Sale! The only one of its kind and there will be plenty to rummage through. Lots of one-offs. Plenty of bargains. Original paintings, sculpture and ceramics. An unmissable event if you like my work: Lots of things under £5 and lots of exclusive original work. I will be there all the time and probably won’t open my studio again in the future.

    So today I’ll start sorting the treasures from my storeroom into boxes and suitcases, putting up the trestle tables, clearing space on the shelves. It’s going to be a BIG job but I am very much looking forward to welcoming you on April 13th and 14th. I hope there’ll be something for everyone: bargains, vintage treasures, original work, live sketching and YES there will be Tunnocks!

    Big Love,

    Sam Toft

    X

  • Everyday Magic

    Dear friends,

    I hope this email finds you well?

    Here in Brighton we’ve been having such howling winds, such sheeting rain, such small glorious bursts of bluesky sunshine. I must confess I really love our inclement weather. I even love the word. Inclement. Makes me think of 1960s London with its red doubledeckers, men in bowler hats and black umbrellas. Those black and white films where people addressed each other formally and talked of the weather as if it were a secret code. And inclement weather makes people behave in curious ways. Jostling with their rainwear, walking sideways into gusty breezes, hunching their shoulders against the cold. Wonderful drawing opportunities. It’s exciting. So many ideas in the soggy sketchbooks. But I know many people prefer the summer. The swimming and the sunny beaches. Me, I don’t like swimming much and really like the inclemency... I think it’s because I appreciate keeping the water on the outside and keeping myself cosy on the inside. The effort to stay warm makes me feel safe and happy.

    It’s not all fun though. My neighbours opposite are having major works done:  7 months of rattling scaffold with the wind fair whooping through the creaking poles, and plastic sheeting snapping like a wind flag all night. I’m trying to focus on the positive. Like how wonderful it’ll be when it’s all done… like taking your feet out of tight boots at the end of a long day, or sliding that splinter from under your fingernail in a hot bubble bath. The discomfort is almost worth the relief.

    Most of my New Year’s resolutions have bitten the dust already. How are yours doing?

    AND I’ve developed a frozen shoulder. Humph. 

    But thank goodness I have my ‘do less’ and daily writing practices still going. An extra hour in bed with a hot water bottle and a cup of cacao with nutmeg and frothy oat milk in the mornings while I scribble in my little book. 

    AND I’ve realized a long-held dream!

    ...But then I think - was it a Wonderful Dream or more of an Incurable Problem… ? Either way, it’s something that’s been dogging me for at least 20 years. I’ve tried and failed so many times on this one. I’ve reached out for help and still not managed it. I began to think it was a hopeless case. It had got to the stage where I thought, “You’re just going to have to accept this one, Toftie. Nothing can be done…. It’s an unachievable goal like eternal youth, effortless joy or a flat stomach.” 

    And it’s been getting worse each year. I’ve made it mean that I’m not really good enough… as if I have a dirty secret and someone is going to find me out one day. And although my problem is glaringly obvious, others appear not to see it. Or perhaps they see it and it doesn’t bother them. They can ignore it with apparent ease. It just passes them by. So it feels as though I’ve gone a tiny bit mad, worrying about something I cannot do and nobody else has even noticed. An insurmountable problem. An unattainable dream. Do you have anything like that in your life or is it just me?

    It took a visit from my sister and 10 days hard labour, but WE CLEARED OUT MY STUDIO! I could not be more grateful for this life changing experience (THANKS SIS’) but the emotional and physical tremors are only just starting to subside almost a week later. We stretched ourselves to the limit and in the middle of it all we even admitted that it could not be done.

    Over 30 years of sketchbooks, ideas, paintings, unfinished projects, writings, saved things, rubbish and good stuff has been removed from my studio. I let go of lots of beautiful things… They have found new homes to be appreciated in. And in exchange I have a clear, current, creative space to work from. The impossible dream. Every chest and suitcase and drawer has been emptied. Papers have been shredded, recycling has been collected, rubbish has been tipped, Facebook Marketplace has been flooded and scrap stores overloaded. And we are still standing. It doesn’t seem real. There’s still a lot in here, but I can see the walls! We got rid of five sets of shelves and all their contents. Marvellous! Are you curious to see the work I was doing 30 years ago? Would you join me at an Archive Sale in my studio this April? It is a final total clearout. An ‘everything left must go at knockdown prices’ kind of a deal. Keep reading.

    In April I will be opening my private studio - for one weekend only - and having my first Archive Sale! Saturday 13th and Sunday 14th April 11-5pm. Showcasing old work and new, with plenty of bargains. New jig dolls, new ceramic Dorises, new framed paintings, sold out prints, old drawings & etchings, loads of cards and original work from the past 30 years. I have a storeroom FULL of undiscovered treasures at truly clear out prices, so save up your pocket money (there are no credit card facilities) and I hope you’ll join us for a weekend in windy Brighton-by-the-Sea at Brown Dog Studio, 12 Chapel Mews, Hove, BN3 1AR. You could make a weekend of it and stay overnight? There’ll be new bargainous stock each day as our creaking tables won’t hold it all. And accommodation options from hostels and Premier Inn to mini boutique hotels and the Grand! Toftie Towers is full, as my sister (of www.mustardhampers.co.uk) and her daughter Serafina are coming to help. And Amber from @littlemustardclub and Graham my long-suffering other half. I’m sorry so many of you won’t be able to make it. There are too many things (and too cheap!) to list online. But there will be a small selling exhibition from www.samtoftoriginals.co.uk at the same time, details below.

    Big love from rainy windy BYOOTIFUL Brighton!!!

    Sam Toft

    X

  • Can You Hear the Jingle Bells Yet?

    Dear friends,

    I wasn’t going to write again until the New Year announcing my BIG Studio Clear Out Sale in Brighton, and then I thought "Let’s make a Christmas Splash with all those galloping circus ponies and hand-trained baby penguins I’ve been keeping up my sleeve…" but time just ran away with me. Instead, I’ll just be wishing you lots of luck with all YOUR festive plans. Let me know how it goes! Will your December be seasonally sociable, full of family and friends, or (my favourite) hunkering down with a warm dog and a good book?

    I’ll be having a bit of a ‘homemade’ Christmas this year. I’ve been learning to throw pots on the wheel (at the rather brilliant Pottery Gagliano in Brighton and Leach Pottery in Cornwall) and I have a few wonky bowls and such to fill with spiced nuts, homemade truffles, scented candles, little pies and Boxing Day Walk granola bars. I’ve also been making a few little Christmas sketches while rifling through the cookery books.

    There are giveaways on social media this week, but if you don’t do the Facebook/Instagram thing, Nan is including a lovely original coloured drawing with December orders of our Crookleigh Chronicles boxed sets. All wrapped in tissue with a little bookmark and authenticity certificate they are the most precious treasures to discover, gift or keep. I’ll try to put a few little drawings for sale in our NEW Club Room too, so look out for them (and I’m sorry if I promise things and don’t get time… there would most probably only be one or two anyway).

    If you are having a homemade Christmas or are on a budget, it’s always free to browse through our websites or revisit the YouTube channel. There are so many vintage vids on there (from when I had hair and lots of energy!), and please join us on Instagram or Facebook or send an e-card.  (Note that e-cards sometimes get stuck in spam filters so don't rely on them for important information.)

    I’m going to light a fire and do some baking to warm the place up while I do those Christmas sketches. Anybody else living in a cold old house like me will probably be shuffling around in big slippers wearing a hat, scarf and blanket. And actually appreciating the night sweats for once! Aren’t WE the lucky ones!?!

    Until the new year, I’ll love you and leave you,

    Big love,

    Sam Toft

    X

  • The Importance of Small Things

    I once had a small dog.

    I called him Stanley Philpot.

    I have to say from the first moment I saw his funny face I was completely entranced. I’d never had a small dog before and this little man tested me almost beyond my limits. Is that a thing with small dogs? Whereas Moses and Betty had a straightforward intelligence, Stan had his own bright ideas about everything.

    Roughly the shape of a dachshund but with untidy ringlets, an undershot jaw and wayward teeth. Those shiny black curls fell luxuriously from his head and ears but fell short along his back to be replaced with a flat silvergrey fluff. Straggly waves covered his short fat legs. On our walks, passersby would look around him and compliment my very handsome big dogs. Just as at a family wedding our eyes flick past the adult bridesmaids and rest instead on the 5 yr old flower girl in her blush pink fairy dress with flower crown. But I absolutely adored my little Stan. I drew him obsessively. Almost as if drawing him would give me a way inside that mischievous brain of his. I designed a range of cards crowning him The World Famous Stanley Philpot. Still available I think from Art Press Cards, but I can’t quite bear to look. His antics were legendary.

    I remember finding my precious vintage Cornishware bowl (plus antique silver sugar tongs) behind his bed one afternoon. I had been looking for them all week. He had managed to find his way up onto the dining table and carried the bowl to his bed before demolishing the fancy brown sugar cubes within. And all without breaking a thing. My, how I’d love to know how he pulled off that stunt.

    He was such a good dog for problem solving. He had a keen sense of smell, a voracious appetite and an enviable dedication to his tasks. He would chew through coat pockets and metal treats tins, driven wild by the possibility of the scantest of crumbs. If at all accessible he’d eat whole bags of dry kibble in one sitting. He’d snaffle the budgie’s millet, clear out the fish food, chomp away at fat balls left for the birds in the park … He could eat a whole box of Audrey’s chocolates and a packet of nuts and raisins with no ill effect. He once ate an entire hamper of my sister’s (delicious and precious) homemade Christmas goods overnight - including the wrappings - and was only slightly ill. A whole Dundee cake barely touched the sides.

    As he grew older, not surprisingly, he lost some teeth, and his whiskers turned a fetching grey to match his silvery back perfectly. His cloudy eyes blinked in heartfelt devotion directed towards anyone with a packet of crisps or a spare sandwich. He’d go missing for hours and I’d find him waiting patiently under picnic tables or high chairs. And, yes, I wormed him regularly.

    I must say he was a little rascal for most of his 15 years. Every time I walked through a door I’d hold my breath trying to guess what fresh mischief he’d found. And perhaps because of that I miss him still. Sometimes in the middle of the night I reach out for him and he’s not there. The powerful comfort of his cuddles is irreplaceable.

    Over those last months I drew him a lot. His little torpedo shaped body and dusty curls. He grew fatter and more boney at the same time. He looked at me a lot and I guessed at what he was wanting to say. I had a feeling that I never wanted to stop drawing him because then I would have to let him go. Which of course I did, as we all must. And now there’s a part of me who can’t really remember having such a naughty pup as Stanley Philpot. He came and he left. Like coming back from a holiday and you can’t quite believe that you actually went.

    Often to comfort myself when my dogs grow old, I do Fantasy Dog Buying. It’s a bit like walking past a house you will never own but at the same time you can just imagine where your sofa would go. For my fantasy dog I almost always go for a Harlequin Great Dane called Big. And Tiny Tim a little blonde chihuahua. Or let’s face it - any dog I see who gives me a second glance. Which is why I am so looking forward to drawing your dogs at Panter and Hall next week. I was delighted to include Club Members’ Pets in my paintings for the show and now I’d like to invite three of you (with or without your 4 leggers) to come along.

    It’s an exclusive event with a very limited guest list. There’ll be a live charity auction for Wild at Heart Foundation, pet sketches for donations to the charity, a short film being made, a live podcast and a photographer to capture the event. You’ll be at the biggest show of my career, with sparkly wine and treats for the pups… I’d love you to join us!! You’ll be rubbing shoulders with such starry guests as my mum, Nan Mustard, as well as my sister Louise and brother Tim who will be running the auction. The gallery list is FULL but I have room on my personal guest list for 3 Club Members. Wish it could be more but to leave room for all the people who have already bought a picture and would like to bring their dog, it’s Fire Regs I’m afraid. It’s on 9th November at Panter and Hall, 11-12 Pall Mall, Big London and the first 3 to contact me with their club numbers will join me as my guests.

    If you are unable to make the Private View, you can visit the show between 8th and 18th November (see www.panterandhall.com for opening times). I’ll also be uploading the short film when it’s made so you can experience the show from your sofa.

    Well if you’ve got to the end of all that lot you deserve an extra biscuit!

    I wish you all the love from my cosy sofa in Brighton where I’m supping Lemsips and catching up on all the emails. The weather is crazy wet and windy outside but I’m just about to bundle up and head out into it. Betty doesn’t mind the weather. Not like Stan. I used to have to carry him underneath my cape. And he wasn’t light. Today I’ll be thinking of my Curly Top as I wonder at the foaming sea with watery eyes.

    Big love,

    Sam Toft