Home again. I landed yesterday, and after a shower and a cup of tea was down to the Art Gallery of NSW for a morning lecture on Regency England that I'd booked months ago and forgot about, home for a brief nap and then a two hour yoga intensive with the amazing Kell. It was a wonderful, if long day. So Sunday I took it slow. A sleep-in, lots of Lady Grey, five loads of washing and the last of the unpacking. Somehow I bought towels. In Europe. I don't know who does that, and quite why I carried them about, but the blue was a limited edition Nathalie Du Pasquier that I couldn't resist from HAY in Copenhagen, and the two mustard Orla Kielys were a last minute addition in London, after the dress I bought then exchanged for a slightly different style was discounted and I ended up with a credit note. The towels seemed easier than a teapot, so here I am with towels. I'm good for towels.
I spent the afternoon making an apple, pork and sage cassoulet (good slow winter cooking) and catching up on yesterday's paper.