It's the night before I leave for London. The past weeks have been pretty incredible. Full of big emotions and quiet existential crises, but also incredibly and beautifully simple. I think it's a lovely and rare thing to have a place you can return to that always feels comfortable, like home. I'm very lucky.
There's a lot to do yet before I go - packing and errands and cleaning and getting-of-ducks into some semblance of a row. But now it's midnight, I'm just home from a lovely evening at the Dinkytowner with some of my nearest and dearest, and the only thing to do before bed is to look around, take some deep breaths, and absorb the moment before I watch some Deadwood, finish off that pint of Chubby Hubby and go to bed.
Big day tomorrow. But aren't they all?
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