Returning to London…

It’s now just over a week since I arrived back in London from Hong Kong. We arrived very early on Wednesday morning, aghast at the sharp wind and zero temperatures as we exited into the bathetic surrounding of Heathrow’s concrete car park.

Liz was staying here, to escape the Arctic cold on her narrow boat, and emerged blinking like a very sweet owl from my bedroom as I lugged my bags into the living room at 7am. After three weeks of being in someone else’s company, it was lovely to arrive home and not be greeted by resounding silence.

It’s extraordinary how productive one can be after a thirteen hour flight (I did sleep fitfully for eight hours on the plane thanks to over-the-counter sleeping pills) – all ramped up on bad airline coffee, I unpacked my cases, frantically flung washing into the machine, opened my post, and prodded around the flat looking for late and unopened Christmas presents – thank you CHANEL. Really it’s hard to beat the rush of excitement when you spot a little black and white bag on the hall table.

I had thought I would sleep in the morning, but there are always things to deal with and, by the time I had paid the breathtaking tax demand that was pulsating on the doorstep, JOY, done five loads of washing – I’m a big fan of the eco-friendly quick wash with a big slosh of Dettol antic-bac washing liquid added to the drawer, dealt with some urgent email, fired off a pitch to a prospective client and popped next door to the greengrocer for supplies, it was time for Remy to arrive to tackle the office admin backlog with me.

At four pm I headed to my sister’s house just up the road for a lift up to my father’s house to collect my car, as I needed it for a mission. I’d left it in Northamptonshire over the holidays, because of the threat of WINTER OF DOOM in all the papers, which doesn’t seem to have transpired.

That being said, when I got out of my father’s car at his house I actually thought I would keel over with the cold: I started whole body shaking and my teeth were almost rattling out of my head. I flung myself into my little car and sat there vibrating until the heating started to blast.

And bless my father: he has not only taken it for its MOT, but had it serviced, valeted it, cleaned out all the detritus – my car is never not full of junk – AND sandpapered down all the bumper paint chips (honestly that lamppost hit the car not the other way round) and re-sprayed them. It’s never looked so good. A lovely way to start the New Year.

Until I took my mother’s whippet, Billy, for a walk on Primrose Hill on Tuesday afternoon, that is.

I sped back down the M1 to my sister’s house, and spent the next four days with her and the dogs, only emerging blinking and raw on Saturday evening. Lettice and I spent Sunday in bed, with the papers (heavenly Observer Food Monthly day).

This week has been a jumble of meetings, press days, more washing (does it ever end?), organizing, tidying, IKEA, and tackling the admin mountain. The plan is that this week will be my ducks in a row week, leaving me – and the office – ready to face 2015.

Lettice has been hanging out with me, which has been heavenly – she’s a bit nervy at the moment so she’s been out and about with me too, and I’ve been trying to do a proper hour walk with her each day in Regent’s Park.

I’m sorry for not blogging over the past week. I don’t want to write about it yet but it’s been a very emotional time, and I couldn’t bring myself to open up my iPhoto for blog posts because of all the albums on there, or even to think about writing. So much of what has happened has been bound up with my life online, and I just needed to disassociate from here for a little while.

I’ve also been nose down on the proofs of US edition of Friends, Food, Family, which is going to print shortly. You would not believe how many ingredients have different names – and usages – in the US: my favourite so far is sweet petite peas for the English petit pois.

Over the next few weeks, I will run the rest of my Thailand posts – I need a reminder of sunshine in this cold, cold winter. (I’ve been sleeping with three blankets on top of my duvet, and Lettice under all, acting as a tiny, dog-shaped hot water bottle.)

Top Blanket: Vintage
Middle: Highland Blanket by Boden (gift)
Bottom blanket: Finley Throw by The White Company