Slice. Of. Heaven.

Several days after returning home am just about emerging from semi-comatose, blissed-out state engendered by a long weekend in an idyllic cottage in the Middle Of Nowhere.



We were surrounded by acres of woodland, which at this time of year was so beautiful that even daughter #1 needed no encouragement to get out of bed before midday and walk through it, and pretty much for 3 days we didn't see another living soul...

(cottage in there somewhere...)

Happily my unspeakably lovely editor had put her seal of approval on Tristan and Lily’s story before we left, so it was gorgeous to be able to leave behind all the skull-grinding stress of the past few deadline-driven weeks and spend the days exploring and the evenings soaking in the bath with wine, roasted chestnuts and Lady Chatterley’s Lover (sadly not in the literal form of Sean Bean), packed at the last minute specifically for its perfect bonfire-infused autumn woodland vibe. The only downside of this stroke of inspiration was that I spent most of our woodland walks not looking out for fascinating flora and fauna, but dreaming about Mellors appearing from behind a tree.

The Big Birthday began with a picnic breakfast in the forest at the time that we would usually be gathering up bits of homework, ironing uniform and braving the school run, and we ate warm almond croissants and drank cold champagne (well, He and I did, and daughter #1 asked...) in a silent cathedral of autumn colour and talked longingly about giving everything up for a life of rustic simplicity...

(But one which also involves such things as almond croissants and champagne. Obviously.) (And broadband connection.) (And, as I haven't seen the new Daniel Bond film, trips to the cinema. Anyone else seen it yet?)