I’m not sure what day it is, the fridge is practically empty (despite having filled it with panic-bought food a few days ago) and the washing is out of control.
Last night our book club met at the beach. It was a glorious evening – calm sea, colourful sunset, cold rosé.
I realise it’s a bit like complaining that my diamond shoes are too tight but I got hit by a crazy skier last week whilst on the slopes in Austria and now I’m on crutches with a ruptured cruise ship (I’m told it’s cruciate but I prefer cruise ship) ligament.
Last weekend went by in a haze of lamb, rioja and gold Lindt bunnies. Now we’re well into the school holidays and I’m mostly running on leftover eggs (chocolate, not chicken).
On a shoot last week, hat at jaunty angle. This last week has been a blur of school music concerts, nativity plays (the cowboy theme totally worked, by the way), panic baking and just-about-making work deadlines.
Ah, the school Show & Tell letter. Normally, it goes on the fridge, stuck on with the only remaining magnet with less than three pieces of paper already underneath it.
She’s laughing, not sneezing. I hope. Er, not me. I know! It was the Fortnum & Mason Awards last night and my book made it to the shortlist of three for best Drinks Book.