In which I stress buy bath bombs.
Sometimes, when things go wrong, and you want to go to sleep, but you want to stay up and watch the Olympics opening ceremony, all you can do is slather yourself in Sympathy for the Skin, and hope for the best.
In which I lose my Sunday to a glorious bath.
Then I went to bed. And I was lying in bed, thinking how, actually, the post-bath smell of The Enchanter is a bit like a citrusy, Christmassy hug, especially when you're wrapped under a duvet. Then my phone made that whooshing noise it makes when an email comes in, and it turned out to be … Continue reading Bananas