From the blue door
Summer has moved right up to the threshold
At this time of year the cottage begins to feel as though it is wearing the garden. The hanging baskets have softened the porch, the blue door has become brighter against all that green and pink, and every arrival starts with a small pause at the step.
That is the feeling I want the journal to hold: not a polished house, but a lived-in place where food, flowers, friends and animals make the welcome. The open door catches that best. You can see the table inside, the warm light, and the easy movement between outside and in.
Stan and Alfie have appointed themselves guardians of the front door. They sit exactly where guests arrive, framed by the baskets, as if they understand the whole point of the cottage is to let people know they have come somewhere kind.
