You know, sometimes you think you're doing OK in the world. Your nails aren't too chipped, you have less than 40 unread emails, the washing is folded, you can remember the last time you went for a run, you get to read a bit of your book on the weekend and maybe finish the paper, you haven't had wine every night, all the windows are open, life is good. You go for nice dinners with good friends, have drinks at the local and walk home in the light rain smiling, manage to stay out late mid-week, dancing your pants off to The Lemonheads, feeling a kind of 90s joy drinking Coopers in your Converse sneakers and singing along to all the words, you crawl out of bed for work thinking you might just get it all done, your last day for the year and pages of edits but you don't mind. You're happy about it. You love edits.
You have two small nieces to cuddle at the airport on Monday and nothing after that but bowls of cherries and afternoon naps. There'll be the smell of a real Christmas tree and laying in the shade by the pool, making Danish gingerbreads, white wine with lunch, presents to wrap. All of it.
*Picture by the magnificent Luisa Brimble.