Yesterday I was supposed to go down to the Royal National Park with friends, for some beach and picnic loveliness. But it came across grey and a chance of showers, so we thought we'd do a harbour walk near Mosman instead, but then it started raining, heavily, so we thought we'd go to the MCA to see the Chuck Close exhibition, but then we got there and it was sunny so we thought we'd have lunch and a bottle of wine by the harbour, which ended up being two bottles of wine and then a 90s hip-hop night in Marrickville till the wee small hours. I mean, you know how those days go. So SUNDAY was quiet. I was sleepy. I spent the morning helping at a workshop at Story Factory (the kids were writing stories from old artworks, inventing dialogue for the characters), the afternoon cleaning and then, gloriously, a long shower, my new Frank bodyscrub (which is spectacular), lovely geranium hair wash, my faithful swipeys and for obscene indulgence, an Aesop face mask (above). I climbed into bed (clean sheets, obviously) at 8 PM with a cup of chamomile tea and I'm not lying when I say it pretty much felt like heaven.