Dear Diary,

It's been so sunny and warm here lately it's almost as if I'm in a different country. Or on vacation. Or both.

Yesterday I walked to an area of town I've never been to -- Columbia Road. Every Sunday Columbia Road turns into Columbia Flower Market. It takes a lot for me to leave my hood these days, which is why I didn't and went to Columbia Road, which is only a few blocks north of Bacon Street. I really do have the best postcode in London.

After a stroll around the market I went to a farm and looked at some pigs and chickens, which reminded me of good times back on my uncle's farm in Indiana, butchering chickens and then eating chicken for lunch immediately afterwards.

From there I walked to the park and threw frisbee. Today I am sore from 20 minutes of throwing frisbee, which means I am old.

When I got back to my street there was some kind of Bangla festival going on. All the normal Sunday Brick Lane eccentricities were multiplied. It didn't slow down in the afternoon and nothing seemed to be closing even when I returned to my flat at 8. I could've sat outside and passed judgement on people for hours.

What a great weekend.