From Beaminster to Carcassonne, it's time to go home.

I can't remember a time I felt quite so laid back, or at least basking in a happy haze brought about by the non-stop aroma of home baking and cuddles with whippets called Toby and Millie by an open log fire. When I wasn't by the fire I was perched on a stool in the kitchen by the Aga with an eye half on the proceedings, leisurely licking out the remains of the coffee icing whilst writing. Otherwise I could be found huddled quietly in a corner of the cosy patisserie whilst people happily chatted, drank their coffee and indulged in lusciousness from the seductive chiller cabinet.

All I was aware of was the low buzz of conversation, I was totally engrossed with my writing, 30,000 words to be exact. It's the first time I have ever been able to completely feel free to write. I hadn't realised it could be so relaxing, therapeutic and bring such freedom.

But it's time to go home, for home is where the heart is and although a small part of my heart is here the voice in my head is urging me back. I've achieved what I set out to do and now it's time to move on.

I'm thrilled to be taking back a copy of Recipes from Le Vieux Four, The Secret Culinary Adventures of a Dorset Pastry Chef which is my friends brilliant first cookbook. Available directly from Le Vieux Four it's going to prove a wonderful source of inspiration. Whilst I have been here I have been delighted to have met up with old friends, frequent a few old haunts and lay a few ghosts to rest.

And for once, just once, the words have flowed more freely than the wine !!