The comforts of home

There is something rather lovely about coming home from a holiday to the comforts of home. My own bed, shower and bath. My own family. Everything in its place. Last night, or more correctly early this morning - we didn't arrive back to EK until ten past two a.m. - Jack the cat was very pleased to greet me. He knew I had been away for longer than my usual working day because he kept looking at me intently and thoughtfully. I was pleased to see him too. Then this morning I had such a lovely long lie, and James brought me breakfast in bed. It is therefore a little ironic that I will be leaving the pleasures and comforts of home tomorrow for another week, as James and I head up north for a walking holiday.