Actually it was all morning, tasting a line up of rosé wines made by celebrities on This Morning. I had to really concentrate, not least because all I really wanted to ask was where presenter Rochelle Humes got her dress from (Ganni, I looked it up afterwards).
Endless cups of tea on the sofa, nailing the last series of Catastrophe I’ve been meaning to watch for ages…turns out recovering from knee surgery can be FUN.
Grief is a funny thing. As in peculiar rather than ha ha, obviously. Seventeen years ago my brother died. I remember, a few years after, googling the five stages of grief.
I have a terrible poker face. That whole ‘can’t tell what they’re thinking’ thing? Whatever it is, it’s usually written all over mine.
Honestly, I never used to get the whole self-care thing. In my twenties, I was too busy. In my thirties, too tired.
Thank you for all my lovely birthday messages, especially the one that reminded me I’m now old enough to know what really matters.
This week, I hit 45. I know age is just a number blah blah blah but honestly, when I woke up on the morning of my 45th birthday it was the first time I’ve not been that excited about it being my birthday.
I went to a brilliant party earlier this week (out! On a school night!), the book launch for my friend and fellow wine writer Victoria Moore’s new book The Wine Dine Dictionary.
