toasty

Today is a day for sitting on a sheepskin rug, mug of homemade soup in hand, and staring into the open fire. Despite the extraordinary amount of effort it took to get up this morning, I’ve settled into one of those gloriously serene and romantic states of mind. The world is continuing around me, I occasionally look up and watch it, smiling to myself before turning back to work.

It is a day for nesting, for settling down amongst the bits and pieces in my mind and putting them all in their rightful place. I have that lovely calm feeling I get from knowing that everything I want is where it should be; that feeling you get when you finish the spring clean. Everything sparkles, surfaces are clear and you know you could reach out one hand and find anything you want at the tip of your fingers.

So in my head, in much the same way as I would do after a spring clean, I’m sitting back and putting my feet up. Basking in that fire glow and warming my toes. I pull my sleeves down and curl up on my sheepskin, nestled down and rested. I know that outside the storm is brewing, I can see the thunder clouds, but inside is warm and cosy and I am happy here.