The watchword for today, boys and girls, was Comfort.

Jeremy left for BarCamp early this morning, and in order to prevent myself from wallowing in self-pity about being left on my own all weekend, I decided to take the bull by the horns and only do things that would soothe and comfort me.

It didn’t start off well. After Jeremy took off for the train this morning, I fell back to sleep and—as is usual when I wake up early and then drift off again—was plagued by very vivid, very disturbing dreams. I mean, I like David Cronenberg’s work and all, but I really don’t need to see it in my sleep.

After getting up and having some coffee, I decided that the most comforting thing for me to do for the next hour or so would be to head to a café, have some brunch and read a bit. Stupidly, I failed to take into account the fact that, it being Saturday, everyone in Brighton and Hove would want to be sitting in a café, particularly since the weather was less than ideal. I therefore spent several fruitless minutes wandering around my little corner of Hove, through the wind and spitting rain, peering into cafés packed with groups of laughing, brunching people and feeling progressively more dejected.

Recognizing defeat when I saw it, I finally grabbed a piece of quiche from the Real Patisserie and went back home to eat it before heading out, yet again, to three of the most comforting places to be found in busy little Brighton:

1) The bookstore: City Books, to be precise, where I was very pleased to find a copy of The Interpretation of Murder, the book that’s been chosen for Relly’s first book club dinner in a few weeks. I did, of course, take the opportunity to ogle the lovely Penguin books, greeting cards and journals that fill the narrow aisles of City Books, but I was very good and left the shop only with what I had gone in there for—most unusual for me.

2) The kitchenware store: The counterpart to a kitchenware shop in Hove opened today on Western Road in Brighton. It wasn’t all that long ago when I’d huff and puff and roll my eyes with boredom whenever my parents wanted to go into a kitchenware shop. Now, kitchen stores are right up there with bookstores for me when it comes to terrible temptation. Whenever I go into a kitchenware store, I always seem to find things that I didn’t even know existed but that I suddenly realize I can’t live without. Again, I was very, very good: I was sorely tempted by the pretty crockery, handy utensils and clever storage solutions, but I left without buying anything. It was enough for me to just wander around touching stuff. At one point, there was jaunty French music playing and the couple next to me was speaking French, so I could pretend I was in a cute little shop in a charming neighborhood in Paris rather than a cute little shop on the distinctly un-charming Western Road.

3) The craft store: C&H Fabrics, that is. After the craft show yesterday, I felt compelled to go finger some beads and fondle some yarn in the shop, and that’s precisely what I did. A feeling of calm always descends over me when I step foot into the craft store—well, calm combined with a massive adrenaline rush when I see all the fuzzy yarns and sparkly bits and bobs. I was most pleased to find a £2 substitute for the £7 ball of yarn I was intending to buy—so pleased, in fact, that I bought a completely unnecessary and rather expensive beading book to reward myself for my frugal shopping.

Gloomy evening was closing in when I finally got back home, so I made myself a comforting cup of a tea, flipped on North by Northwest and finished up some sparkly knitted sleeves I’ve been working on. Then I cooked up a gorgeously earthy mushroom and barley soup (again from the River Café cookbook) for dinner, which I ate while watching Coast. This week’s episode was set in the Shetland and Orkney Islands, which was absolutely perfect: lots of isolated islands and waves crashing against cliffs, just the way I like it. There’s something deeply soothing about the wild sea.

So, despite a lack of sunshine and lack of a spouse, I managed to maintain a reasonable level of comfort and coziness throughout the day. And while I’m on a roll, I may kick the pampering up a notch in the next hour—there’s a pear in my kitchen that’s just waiting to be poached in cinnamon syrup and eaten with some ice cream while I sip another cup of tea and watch the Tudors to wrap up my day.