6 weeks since last I wrote to you. 6 weeks of work and life and work and life. I've done nothing and yet done so much, been nowhere and travelled to Russia. Lived and breathed beyond living and breathing.
How to Hygge The British Way has taken over my life to an extent: I write there nearly every day, I have a pattern, a routine of books, recipes and random thoughts that seems to work. I love it, how could I not, it's so me, this home and safety and love that hygge generates, that I want to write for it as often as I must. I actually have my posts planned and ready to write when I set down.
This leads me to feel guilty. Because Angel Jem is still me, still who I am, still who I seek to be.
And yet, poor Angel Jem gets less and less time. I could just replicate the posts here. I could just cut, paste, change a little and post again, but that feels wrong. I can't even claim to separate the areas out because there are so many overlaps between my personal journal which this is and my professional interest, which hygge is, that I can't say 'This post is hygge, this is home' since so many are both. Inevitably both.
So I crave your indulgences again. I am still Angel Jem, but on a sort of sabbatical. Riding the hygge wave while I can, and using here more as a jotter, or diary. Random notes collected together.
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