This was our rest day. Antony and I have been working our socks off recently, so we decided that today would be just about us and the little one. We slathered ourselves with sun cream, dusted off our sunnies, and set out across the fields to Rodmell, a small and picturesque village in the Sussex countryside.
I've been thinking a lot about prints this week (blog post to come - oh yes), and today I went for what can only be described as an insanely nutty clash, as I teamed this vintage 1950's summer dress, with my gorgeous Oscha wrap. The wrap is cushy enough to carry the weight of my (not so) little one, but cool enough that we didn't melt in the midday heat. And yes, after days and days of minimal sunshine and endless rain, the sun finally won out. Have I mentioned how much I love summer? I think it must be something to do with being a July baby. It's in my blood.
Rodmell claimed it's place in literary history when Leonard and Virginia Woolf bought a house in the village in 1919. Monk's House was eventually passed to the National Trust, after Leonard's death in 1969 and is a fascinating place to visit. The house is full to the brim with Bloomsbury treasure. Paintings by Vanessa Bell hang on the walls, and furniture from the Omega workshops is muddled together with the Woolf's antique pieces. It's hard not to feel a few pangs of inspiration as you stand in Virginia's bedroom, or peer into her writing room in the garden.
And speaking of the garden, well I'd pay the small entrance fee for that alone (and it's apparently what snagged the Woolf's attention too). The grounds cover three quarters of an acre, and are an absolute joy to behold. A riot of colour, with irises, poppies, and a beautiful magnolia tree, the garden spreads out from the house onto orchards and an abundant vegetable patch, and endless endless fields. We lingered for ages at the edge of the pond, trying to spot as many newts as we could.
After all that 'rest', I'm in need of a long bath and bed.