I remember the morning light that filters through the shutters and the polished tile floors; the arrangement of china for breakfast on the veranda and the fragrance of lavender that drifts out of the closet.
It is the most tranquil house that I have ever stayed in and the effect lingers after you have driven down through the olive trees and out into the world.
This is a silver and enamel necklace commissioned by my father and mother and made by my friend Emma.
I am overwhelmed by the knowledge that my parents and Emma worked together to create such a beautiful object.
I have been writing this blog since June 2007 and the necklace encapsulates everything I value about the experience of blogging: the friends it has brought me and the person that I have become over the past five years.
A heartfelt thank you to my father and mother for having this wonderful idea and to Emma for working with them to convert love into silver.
MrsM considers her new Sports Bra and anxiously wrings her hands.
It has many necessary features but it is not obvious how to get into it. She wishes there were instructions or at least an annnotated diagram. MrsM always knew that she should have paid more attention when she was being shown how to rig a bell tent.
There is only one solution: it is humiliating but inevitable...
Nobody else would photograph these trees. Actually, I am not sure why I am doing it. I have to stand on an angle of yellow lines with my back pressed against a brick wall and lift the camera a precise amount to obscure the portacabin roof.
There is no deep meaning in the choice of view but as I pass the corner in the carpark I see the trees in the distance framing the morning or evening sky.
And now, almost without realising, I have a collection of photos over the months. Looking at them I can feel that moment when I am not thinking about anything, just pressing my back against the wall, facing east.
MrsM is having coffee with her friend who is from 'Another Department'. They are comparing trials and tribulations.
MrsM's Friend "I have put together a rota for the reception but the problem is that one of the team brings her tortoise to work every day and it is not ideal to have a free-range tortoise trundling around the reception area."
MrsM chokes on her latte.
MrsM's Friend "To be fair... it wouldn't be a problem in the winter because she keeps it in her fridge."
MrsM says faintly "in her fridge??"
MrsM's Friend "Yes, apparently it is ideal conditions. She looked at me very oddly when I asked why she kept her tortoise in the fridge so I didn't dare ask any more questions."
We arrived at the cathedral in the early evening when it was still light enough to see the snowdrops under the trees and the flag at half mast on the tower. Inside the great West door the Bishop and Dean waited to take us forward to the High Altar. In a simple and dignified service the coffin was brought into the cathedral that Thomas had loved and laid on a bier between four pillar candles to rest overnight in the vast silent space before committal and commemoration.
We have all been touched by your kind messages of comfort and support.