On returning home from our very short holiday in the south of England, there are two things in particular that get in the way of what is my nightly, incessant and quite confusing stream of thoughts.
To me, the English countryside is still rather exotic.
I need a big bathtub.
Oh, and I have seen Rhinos outside an old manor house in the Cotswolds.
At all the three places we stayed over, we were tucked up in white Egyptian Cotton, and regardless of price for the room, they provided us with wonderfully sized cast iron baths.
Now, I'm not sure about the healing powers of having Rhinos pottering about in the garden, but a nice long hot soak in the evening...
We don't have much space left in our house, but maybe we could fit an Aston Matthews roll top Rimini on pedestal in the office, without being too nostalgic nor offending my "not yet published author" boyfriend by asking him to move out of his writing cave?
For the easter holidays, we have decided on breaking into the piggy bank for a mini road-trip with the youngest around southern England. We have booked three overnight stays at different spots, but have yet to plan any activities ahead of time. We shall see...
Though lacking in hunter wellies, a Land Rover and knickerbockers, I'm sure THE PIG-at Combe will serve me a nice brew in the folly on our second leg of the journey. According to the website, THE PIG is a secluded, mellow, honey coloured Elizabethan gem set in 3,500 acres of lush Devonshire countryside near Honiton, Devon. I'm sure it's all that stands between us and the perfect life we've imagined. XXX