Every day is like Sunday

There is nothing I love more than an unstructured day. A day with no commitments, no chores, no responsibilities. I love going to bed knowing that there will be no alarm clock trilling at dawn. Ideally the house would be tidy, there would be fresh, lavender scented linen on the bed and I'd be woken by the sun streaming through breeze-fluttering muslin. Of course, also ideally I would not be alone, I'd have some warm skin next to me. The warm skin of a swarthy rogue, as opposed the bristles of a snoozing sighthound.

Today I started my gentle Sunday with a walk at the sea with Hetty. The location of my early dates with Rochester. I can't go there and not think of him and wonder. It is peculiar. I wonder if he ever finds himself thinking of me.

On a less introspective note, my kitchen will be decorated this week. I am craving a bright and sunny yellow, as opposed to the sophisticated but dour olive green I have now. I'm torn between Yellow Ground and Babouche, both by Farrow and Ball. Both are warm, sunflower ochre shades. Being F&B paint they have a gorgeous, soft, powdery finish. I shall post some pictures as soon as I can.