‘A crowd is not company; and faces are but a gallery of pictures; and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no love.’
The house is still and warm. Sun is melting the night frost. I am alone in our bed, writing and procrastinating. There are uniforms to be washed, three dogs to walk, grates to be emptied, books to be written and calls to be made. But I’m making cups of ‘Mother Pukka‘ tea, eating apples and toasted rye bread, pinching Christmas chocolate from the fridge and scrolling through Maria Popova‘s inspired literary jukebox to listen to great tunes, cut and paste quotes for you and celebrate my solitude. To be alone is easy when you feel loved.
Posted by Louisa Thomsen Brits on 2 December 2012