What time are you up? My five-year-old daughter gives me a wake-up call, so 9am if I’m lucky. Parenting and ageing means I can’t get the hours in that I used to!
Sunday best or dressed down? I dress similarly across the week, but Sundays are a little sloppier. I might wear khaki jogging bottoms and pretend they look better than they do, like I’m channelling military chic. It’s not a particularly stylish look, but it’s considered.
Breakfast? A bacon sandwich. What’s the phrase? ‘You can take the boy out of Manchester…’ If I’m feeling flush, I’ll go to a local bistro for a full English. Back in the day I might have had a Bloody Mary, but these days I’ll have a strong black coffee.
Sunday morning? I’ll fanny around doing domestic goddess stuff like stripping the beds. I’m so house proud – I can take a lot of time and pleasure in arranging a pile of books, a bowl of fruit and a bunch of flowers.
Sundays growing up? We’re Catholic, so we’d go to church, then visit my grandma for lunch. She was an avid dressmaker, so I’d lose myself in her fabric swatches and nick all her tins of buttons.
Sunday lunch? I’ll make a big coleslaw with walnuts, and rustle up whatever’s in the fridge, then we’ll have a picnic on a pretty Kantha throw. I bought my parents a lovely wicker hamper with plates, but I’m still on Tupperware in a cotton bag.
What makes Sunday special? I live in Mallorca, in an idyllic coastal village with epic scenery. Every day can be like Sunday, but my week is mostly rigid, so Sundays are a wind-down day. It’s about less is more and slowing my pace.
What’s on TV? I love cheesy Sunday telly. The Great Pottery Throw Down is a happy little comfort show. Dancing on Ice is a guilty pleasure, but my daughter likes it, too, so that’s my excuse – it’s partly for her!
Do you get the Sunday blues? I get them to a lesser extent now I work independently. I love my work, so I’m hardly like, “Oh shit, it’s Monday!” I think it’s more that gear shift to, “Here we go again.”