Toast and Honey

Olv"…It was a dog-heaven sort of a day. In the window of one of the many
antiquarian bookshops for which Lewes is famed, I found a sweetly
spotted old terrier, curled into a croissant-shape and fast asleep. I
pressed my nose to the glass, and he opened one tired eye, glowered
quietly and returned to his slumbers. He was just the sort of dog I
covet, old and spotty, with bandy legs, a pointy nose and a commanding
sort of a presence.

Next I wanted tea, but first we had to tiptoe into Adamczewski to pay homage to the perfection of scissors and string. Once inside, I found all kinds of other things to admire, including crisp sheets of writing paper, linen tea cloths and a whole glass cabinet filled with Moleskine notebooks, standing in solemn regularity side by side. I adore notebooks, but I require them to look serious. They must have plain pages and be bound in black or brown. The soft-backed Moleskine notepads were my favourite for a while, but my new love is the reporter notebook, just the right size for French vocabulary and observations de jour.

Quite drunk with pleasure at this find, we hummed our way down the hill to the Grange, where we found ourselves sipping tea in the thick of a rockabilly wedding. Girls in fifties dresses with pompadour hairstyles drank Pimms and champagne as we lay on the grass, nibbling flapjack and settling in to the sheer sweetness of being alive. It doesn’t take much. A day walking on air, the right cup of tea, a shower  of elm leaves, my dog in a window. Regardez, Monsieur Lapin, le beau monde."

Toast and Honey