pemberley

After watching Jane Austen’s finest (version 2005) and developing not a little crush on Matthew Macfadyen…

I’ve spent hours-into-days staring slack jawed at the Painted Hall. Wanting to touch, but not touch, the Veiled Vestal. Wishing the huge yew maze was large enough to get lost in. (It really isn’t.) It’s this thing you do in England. On weekends. If you fancy a picnic. Or a scenic stroll. One feels obliged to take advantage of all the many beautiful things on their doorstep. Pemberley, by way of Chatsworth, was once on mine.