The third textile that Charleston sells is Duncan Grant's 1931 'Grapes' which we use for the endpaper for Good Things in England, albeit our version is much more yolk-coloured. 'Grapes' also comes in a wonderful blue which, curiously, is exactly the same blue as a British motorway sign; we are waiting for the right 1931 book in order to use the blue one day.

Charleston only has a tiny fragment of the original West Wind; which is why our piece of original Omega fabric 'Amenophis' (used as the endpaper for Katherine Mansfield's Journal) is safely framed behind glass. Years ago we had a cushion cover in the same material but it soon became a torn rag. Do ask to see 'Amenophis' if you come in to the shop – it hangs over the computer table.

And this is Duncan Grant's 'West Wind' 1931 as reissued by Charleston, also £55 a metre (but nearly a metre and a half wide). The textile blog is – yet more – evidence that our obsession with mid-twentieth century textiles is in some ways extremely limited...

In fact it's quite interesting to see how different the fabric looks as the endpaper of the notebook. The scale is different, and the background colour, and the texture of course.

Well, we are back from our fabulous Port Eliot weekend, the nearest most of us will get to Le Grand Meaulnes. Inspired by the textiles that decorated our tent at Port Eliot, this week we are celebrating Charleston's reissuing of three Duncan Grant fabrics. This is the one he designed for the Queen Mary in 1936 but the directors rejected as being too modernist. We use it as the endpaper for the Persephone notebook. It is £55 a metre from Charleston.

We are off to Port Eliot, by train to St Germans, all to be reported in the next Fortnightly Letter.

Joanna Walsh ie. 'Baudaude' will again be at Port Eliot this weekend. She did this drawing last year: it shows Lydia, well-wrapped up in a scarf, and reveals that she has so far read sixty pages of Kipps by HG Wells (but when? No time for siestas at Port Eliot). She and Clara are setting off this afternoon to put up their tent, in preparation for creating Persephone in rus in the Walled Garden tomorrow morning.

Or imagine we are sitting on a sofa at Charleston.

But actually it is fairly quiet in the office – so we take it in turns to retreat to the garden and read an old favourite.

Sue Macartney-Snape's The Siesta. Now the Norfolk idyll is over and it's back to 'normal' life in Bloomsbury there will be little chance for forty winks after lunch.

Finally, Sheringham by Tom W Armes from c.1948.

Cromer c. 1930 by the local artist Walter Dexter 1878-1958.

And this is 1935. Everyone here is a tourist: the couple in the foreground seem lost, perhaps looking for a tea-shop and there is definitely no sign of the local fishermen who had hauled in their catch that morning. But the BBC has some wonderful films of East Anglian fisherman in their archive, so we can see them ourselves.

With a week's holiday in Norfolk in mind: a selection of railway posters celebrating the English seaside. This is from the 1930s.

Off for a week's holiday in Norfolk: the plan is to have no plan – except long days on the beach and late afternoons and evenings slumped in a chair like The Artist's Wife 1933 by Henry Lamb 1885-1960 © Tate. How the poor young woman yesterday would have liked to be able to lie in an armchair with a book...

And a century (at least) later, in another country, and a very different kind of interior, more washing up: Stevan Dohanos for Saturday Evening Post July 19 1952.

A hundred and fifty years later than Vermeer: Pierre Duval Le Camus 1790-1854 Interior of a Kitchen Private Collection/Bridgeman Art Library

And the blue of John's dress may well have been deliberate homage to this Vermeer.

We once had this 1903 Mother and Child by William Rothenstein in the Persephone Quarterly. It's 1903, is at the Tate, and was painted in Church Row in Hampstead: the house, and indeed the fireplace, still exist and belong to a Persephone reader. The child became John Rothenstein, who was director of the Tate for thirty years.

This is not 'finally' as we'll have more interiors next week. Here is Interior Mornington Crescent 1910 by Spencer Frederick Gore. This street in Camden Town was, until very recently, extremely run down, right by the railway. But who knows, a hundred years ago it may have been less impoverished: the pictures and the things on the mantelpiece do not shriek impecuniousness. But why is the young woman looking so wary?