This week was so much fun. Finding myself surrounded by such funny, well-meaning and varied people bestowed a simple contentment and knowing that eight days off are in my future is a thought so delicious I get weak-kneed just thinking upon it!
I’m feeling thankful. ‘Tis the season.
Thankful for a Christmas-themed Sunday brunch with my dearest school-friend at our favourite neighbourhood cafe. Upon sitting, Priya – elegant as ever, attired in forest green lace – rifled through her handbag and emerged for air with a pile of Christmas crackers and a book-themed present. Thankful to know such a fun, seize-the-day kinda girl.
Thankful for my sweet boss who gave me the most thoughtful gift on Monday, just because.
Thankful for the post boy at work who twirls around the office singing carols and dispensing mail-related joy with the biggest grin on his face.
Thankful for the opportunity to finally see the Portrait in Vienna exhibition at the National Gallery on a rainy London afternoon. I had forgotten how much the place fills up my heart, and the ensuing Kaffeklatsch with my dear friend was satisfying in the most essential way. And Gustav Klimt, you’ll always have my heart.
Thankful for finally getting round to decorating the house and the ‘Tree of Horrors’ (a revered family tradition soon to be chronicled in a blog post.)
Thankful for a long, lazy Christmas supper with my colleagues in a dimly lit pub on a nondescript corner. As the sky darkened and the twinkly lights wrapped around the staircase shone, and I drank a little more red wine than usual, I realised how very grateful I am to work with such funny, kind folks.
And thankful for my camera, making wreaths with my grandmother, my grandfather’s mischief, two cats (as ever), the Sicilian band playing big-band music (technical terms elude me!) outside the underground and for the feeling that finally London is stealing my heart. A gentle unfolding. Quite happily.
* photographs: a pretty wreath in Primrose Hill, aforementioned Sicilians, twinkly lights.