reading, travels
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St Ives

St Ives

St Ives

The Goldfinch, Donna Tartt

Half-term, and we’ve escaped to St Ives. We make like the three bears and have porridge for breakfast, with a starter of grapefruit & a dessert of chocolate-spread covered toast. Mornings on one of the beaches, sipping coffees & watching the little ones mess about in the sand. Lunch back in the cottage that T insists has come straight from a fairytale: Cornish pasties or scrambled eggs, maybe leftovers from the night before. Afternoons, and B works while I read Littlenose — my own brother’s childhood favourite & staple of my babysitting years — to T & the Moose, and the littlest bear sleeps off his sandy adventures. A walk into town with one or other of the older children to buy provisions and visit the wonderful bookshops. Dinner together & then a round of Uno. Evenings: for more work and for reading. Mint tea before bed.

The perfect routine.



  1. Oh, lucky family. I love St. Ives. The light, the Hepworth house, a wonderful shoe store near the Leach Gallery (maybe on Fish Street?), the patina of all those visionary artists over the houses and sea.

    • We’re feeling very lucky! We visited the Tate today & are going to go to the Barbara Hepworth garden on Friday (we’re planning a little train ride along the branch line to Carbis Bay tomorrow morning). I’m so looking forward to the BH — I’ve been reading ‘The St Ives Artists’ by Michael Bird from the cottage book shelves — so many connections that I hadn’t made! And yes, the light is amazing, even today in the rain. I’m going to go & look for those shoes — thanks for the tip!

  2. Pingback: Notebook: two journeys | edge of evening

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