Upon entering the new Saddler & Co store and workshop, I knew I had found somewhere special. The craft, care and consideration of every element - from the beautiful leather goods right down to the lighting fixtures - is a true reflection of the lovely owners, Bede & Jemima.
Waking up here was something special.
Waking up here before everyone else, just me and the birdsong, tiptoeing through this beautiful house and into the kitchen to boil the kettle then slipping back under the covers to enjoy a cup of tea, the quiet and to watch the soft morning light streaming through the window above my bed, was utter perfection.
A home away from home in the Southern Highlands of NSW, only this was like no home I have ever known. We pottered in the kitchen and gathered for family dinners, each woman with her own task and all working side by side. We wandered around the garden, through leaf covered archways and petal strewn pathways; and enjoyed picnics of cheese and rosé at sunset. By the fireside we sat with knitting needles and books, the room filled with soft conversation and the crackle of a warming fire on a cool spring evening. After dinner there may or may not been a rather energetic dance party in the living room...
I have never really been one for "girls weekends" as such but this trip may have changed my mind. I don't think I have ever laughed so much in all my life.
A floral masterclass, in wintry whites and green, with the wonderfully talented and incredibly kind Michelle of Shady Fig.
Truly the perfect way to spend a chilly June evening, surrounded by sweet-smelling flowers and lovely, likeminded people.
The word ritual, to me, evokes a sense of something that is sacred and beautiful. At first thought, I must admit, I did not think any such thing existed in my mornings. Of course, upon reflection, I happily proved myself wrong.
I wake early, as the stars twinkle their last, and think certain thoughts in the dark. My first cup of tea for the day is taken alone - the silence and solitude of that time is very important to me.
A favourite tea strainer is pulled from its place on the shelf along with a jar of tea leaves, the scent of which comforts me to no end.
Leaning against the counter, I stand and watch the sky lighten through the kitchen window as the water boils, notice the dew on the grass and the birds on the telephone poles while the tea steeps in my favourite cup.
Each morning I sit in the same spot - curled into one corner of the couch, close to the fire and with a view out the front window to our garden, the footpath and the park just beyond. At first the park is filled with fog and kangaroos until slowly both disperse, making way for sunlight, autumn leaves and a troupe of neighbourhood dogs leading their owners to and fro. We all have our own little rituals, don't we?
Perhaps none of this sounds particularly special to you and that is quite all right. The same, small things I do each morning are sacred to me and me alone. My mornings are simple and quiet, and to find happiness in such small things, all before 7am, is a beautiful thing indeed.
*correction to the linked article: I no longer actively monitor the #mymonthofsundays Instagram tag though still heartily encourage all to "reclaim your Sundays, slow them down & fill them with joy". - ka