Never, ever, never rest on your laurels. Never say I am taking time off to drink home-made lemonade and fall in love with Monty Don. Don’t spend too much time floating in a bath of rosemary salt or slip into bed before it is even dark four nights on the run. Don’t plant opal basil, cut night scented stock and arrange it in a vase next to your bed, or spend an entire day mastering the conundrum that is the gluten free cookie. Don’t play snakes and ladders, buy yourself a new handbag, or console a broken hearted friend at the nursery gates. Don’t cry through Joan Didions Year of Magical Thinking, make forests full of broccolli trees for your babba or spend an afternoon just watching cartoons with him, because that is all he is up to doing. Never wander around the local Lavender farm. Don’t bother making a carrot cake or tomato and chorizo soup. Say no to sheets kissed with residual sun, and a child free Saturday all to yourself. Don’t, please, whatever you do, garden in gentle May rain, laugh at Diary of a Nobody so hard you cry, or line your linen cupboard in scented paper….
Because my Darlings, if you do, the universe will pay you back by making your computer explode when you finally decide to switch it back on again.
Thus BrocanteHome will in the short term be coming to you from various locations around the North West of England, while I figure out how to replace a laptop on a budget that is stretched by bread and milk…
If I could send hand-written letters to each and everyone of you in the meantime, I would. But never mind. A change is as good as a rest.