Thursday, December 28, 2006

Christmas at Kettles

There's nothing quite like waking up at Kettles on Christmas morning under a Couverture vintage quilt! The distant sound of a carol concert drifting upstairs, then creeping down in my 100% cashmere bedsocks (an extravagance, i concur) to find Ma and Pa stoking the fire...divine.

Christmas was lovely. My brother Ptolemy was there with his darling girlfriend Gracie (they were at the RCA together and now run their own furniture design company Ptolemy-Grace, centering on the trad-modern style. Their concrete benches embedded with Victorian flower motifs are in Elle Deco practically every month).

Being at home was a real tonic; lots of late suppers, kippers, cocoa and hot buttered toast. Muddy walks down the lane, hot toddies and sing-songs at the pub. No cocktails, just warm beer.
Nancy's presents went down a storm; my family took to her immensely and treated her like one of their own.

Pa made me promise to slow down a bit and was very relieved to hear that I had come to that conclusion myself. They were all terribly intrigued by Ludo Jansdotter and think he sounds infinitely fascinating. I have very much missed him actually and I think I may have been a bit silly about the whole thing. I'm going to put all this Celine/Tony Novembre nonsense out of my head and just enjoy things as they are for once.

Ho-hum...I am not relishing the prospect of going back to London; Issue 11 and Graziella's tedious sagas. I shall have to put on a brave face.

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