Back in June, we spent a couple of days at our friend Ben Pentreath's home in Dorset. We drove down from London late on a Friday night and, as I recall, enjoyed a midnight feast of cheese and fruit before bedtime. We slept like logs that night, waking to a beautiful and bright Saturday morning. With mist still clinging to the valleys, we headed into the nearby town of Bridport, where we picked up groceries (as well as a few antique books), and spent the rest of the weekend reading, eating, drinking and exploring the Old Parsonage in which Ben lives (when he's not in town), and its enchanting surroundings. Ben's garden is an utter delight - I remember sauntering out into the vegetable patch at twilight, glass of wine in hand, to gather handfuls of rosemary for our supper.
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