This is how I was going to start my blog post today:

“These muffins remind me of warm apple porridge with cinnamon on a cold winter’s morning.

Though, I’m actually in London, on a mild summer’s day surrounded by idiotic 11 year olds stealing plasma TV’s.”

I have sat in front of my computer twice to write a blog post.

I have photos of my baked foods and have a nice little recipe all written out.

But I end up squishing up my face and looking at my computer screen like I’ve eaten a lemon. On my walk to work I pass shops in Brixton that have their windows covered in chipboard after having bricks thrown through them – talking about muffins feels wrong.

I sat on my couch on the third night of the riots watching the shops in Clapham Junction being burnt down and people abandoning their apartments with just a backpack.

I don’t live on the main road in Clapham, but it did make my boyfriend and I think about what we’d do in the case of fire. Grab the passports, the computer (for the photos) and go. That was the plan. How strange. How surreal.

These riots disgust me. I understand the need for peaceful protests, but kids, running around and laughing as they ruin people’s livelihoods, where did this come from?

How did these little snots miss the fundamentals of right and wrong, respect for others and the consequences of actions?

If you’d like a good Riots 101, Sarah from Bean and Gone has written a good blog post about it which you can read here. As she writes, the small good that has come from this is watching the community come together to clean up the mess. Help the victims.

I’ve especially been liking following the hash tag #riotcleapup and hearing stories of public generosity to rebuild the uninsured’s businesses, like the campaign to Keep Aaron Cutting.

In the meanwhile the streets around my house are eerie. Shops still shut early, the pubs are quiet compared to a usual summer night.

I just hope the words my mum spoke to me when I was a teenager and had my heart broken for the first time apply here as well: this too, shall pass.

I love London, I hope it passes quickly.