The date
Saturday
12 September
Two thousand and twenty six
Solstice
Scroll
It took eleven months, four disagreements about the kitchen tap, and one winter spent living out of boxes. The house is finally quiet, the floors are finally level, and we would very much like to fill it with people.
Nothing about the evening is formal. Come at four or come at eight. There will be a fire on the terrace, a long table indoors, and more bread than is strictly sensible. Ines will walk anyone who asks through every room, twice if pressed.
Please bring nothing but yourself. If you insist, a record for the shelf.
Saturday
12 September
Two thousand and twenty six
16:00
until late
Supper is served at half past six
14 Solstice
Lane
Ravnsborg · the pale house at the bend
Come
comfortable
Shoes off at the door — floors are new
Six rooms, drawn rather than photographed — we would rather you saw them for the first time in person.
Oak island, two brass pendants, a shelf of things in jars.
One chair, one lamp, a stack that never gets shorter.
West-facing. The best hour here is the one just before dusk.
Cast iron, salvaged. It draws beautifully once it gets going.
Seats fourteen at a squeeze. We intend to squeeze.
South glass, north draught. Everything green lives here.
Solstice Lane bends twice. We are on the second bend, the pale house with the black window frames. Hover or tap a marker.
Kindly reply by 29 August 2026 so we know how much bread to bake.
Questions, allergies, late arrivals — put them in the note and we will sort it out.