01. You know when the reading of one book prompts the reading of another? There was a passing reference to Florence Broadhurst in the book I just finished (Flesh Wounds by Richard Glover), which made me pull one of the most beautiful books I own off the shelf – Helen O’Neill’s biography, Florence Broadhurst: Her Secret & Extraordinary Lives. Continue reading →
At the beginning of the year, I seemed to do a lot of moaning about my book-buying-ban. I was thinking about it again last week when I blog-slapped* Marie Kondo.
But in actual fact, I’m killing it. After the initial few weeks of hyperventilating every time I went near a book shop, I’ve calmed down and can now safely walk through the Readings New Releases section without needing to breathe into a paper bag. Continue reading →
So I caved to public pressure and was prepared to hold a cheese grater and ask myself, sincerely, if it sparked joy. I willingly piled all of my crap onto my bed and then audibly thanked cardigans and asymmetrical hemlines for their service, as I stuffed them into bin bags. I even went so far as to tell people that Marie Kondo was right about the fact that ‘storage is a booby trap’.