Mail

I got a package in the post yesterday. Or rather, our lazy postman couldn't be bothered to ring the doorbell (I was at home!), so he just left me a note telling me to come to the post office to pick it up. (Which, fair enough, isn't too much of a task - the pick up point is literally only two blocks away.)

Getting a package in the mail is very exciting (I live a rather dull life, alright), and I had wondered about what it was. The only thing I could think of was a book I am about to review (for the Medieval Sermon Studies), and I was amazed by how fast the Danish post must be, since it had only been sent 24 hours earlier. But no, apparently the Danes are just as slow as the rest of the European postal workers. It was the latest issue of Tatler, too big for the mail box thanks to an enormous ad campaign by Burberry. Some of you might find it a bit odd that I subscribe to Tatler, and indeed it is not what I consider the best magazine on earth. But, there was an offer I couldn't refuse - 12 issues for the reasonable prize of £25, and two free products from Benefit Cosmetics. Yay! (Ok, I confess, I only wanted the make up - I love Benefit. The magazine was just an extra ... eh ... benefit.) But this means I get Tatler sent home once a month. I haven't really had the time to read the previous issue yet, but something tells me it is not really my kind of mag. I think they aim for a group of people to which I definitely do not belong. Just looking through the ads makes me absolutely convinced: any magazine which includes advertisements (all from Linley) for a keyring in walnut (for £80), a cutting board in walnut (for £250 - it's a cutting board, for God's sake!), or a monopoly set in leather and ebony (for the humble price of £5,395) is certainly not for me. Oh well, I guess I just have to spend the next 11 months looking at the pictures and waiting for the day I become a lotto millionaire.

Rainy day

Today's super plan was to bring my laptop to the nearest Starbuck's (where is that? Victoria? Waterloo?) and sit and feel city cool, and drink one of their new Christmas lattes, and possibly work a bit. But it is pissing down outside. So instead I am at home, drinking a home made Caramel cappuccino - hoping that last year's Christmas Nespresso is still ok (surely it must be - there can't really be a best before date on coffee, can there?). Also looking out the window, hoping that the grey-brownish thing right outside is two snails mating, and not a big cat turd (or fox? When is mating season for snails, anyway?). Admittedly, not as city chic as I had pictured...

Official

Yes, there's no more lying. I confess - I have become old! And here's the ultimate proof:

At the supermarket, I did not pick up a copy of Vouge or Elle, or even Cosmo - I bought the Sainsbury's Magazine - full of recipes and home decoration ideas. I feel absolutely ancient! (Although, admittedly, that is no surprise - I have always known there's a little old lady inside me...) OR, it's just because I'm looking forward to the first Christmas ever at our place, with family coming over - Swedish and English style double Christmas! The spirit is here already!

Swedish Christmas!

The English countryside is not only good for recreation and relaxation, but also for shopping(!). At a garden centre we found this wonderful treasure:


A Swedish Christmas candlestick lamp!!! (Even with the stamp 'Swedish design' on the packaging.) Hooray! Let the holiday season begin.

(Not so) far and away

We're off for the weekend. Haven't seen Tim's dad for so many months that we can't even remember when. So, thought it was about time. It is of course also a great opportunity to get away from the big city for a while. One of us really needs to relax a bit (and trust me - after two weeks in bed - it's definitely not me!) Also, Somerset, where TB senior lives, is very pretty and nice, and a perfect getaway. In addition, there's absolutely nothing to do but to eat, drink, watch the telly, play with the cat, and - if the whether allows it - occasionally go for a walk. I have also just borrowed a book from Emelie ('The Shadow of the Wind' by Carlos Ruiz Zafón), so I am even looking forward to the coach ride.

A small thing

When one is home alone, in a cold flat, sleeping on the sofa for most of the day, feeling very sorry for oneself, then it's good to have something that makes life just a little bit brighter. Like a pair of fuzzy socks:
They are absolutely hideous, and I would never step outside the house in them - BUT, they are awfully nice and warm, and definitely lights up my day. (Gift from mother-in-law Christmas 2007.)