It was just a blanket on the grass, that's all it was. Strewn with a few pillows for propping purposes, a stack of books and the latest World of Interiors. But to me, today, it was so much more. Yes, I know it's 2009 and I live in Hollywood, California, but when I crept out here after breakfast and laid my things down under our majestic pittisporum tree, visions of Edwardian lawn parties and fetes du champetres and pastoral scenes from a Trollope novel popped into my head. It was the reading material, it was the serene milieu and it was the mood I was in.
In my last post, I announced we were going to take a road trip up to Northern California. But after a cocktail the other night, The Divine Italian and I decided that it would be more restorative to stay put on our little patch of green.
And so today I lazed and I loafed and I read. And I listened intently to the birdsong and I sipped my coffee and I watched the dappled sunlight make patterns in the grass and I scooted over when Luca and Piero lay down beside me and I was grateful for earthly pleasures.
Just a blanket on the grass. That's all it was.