1. The sound of my father's coffee pot. When it gets going, it makes a bubbling, rattling snoring noise that always reminds me of weekend breakfasts. He has had it since before I was born and now the lid is gone and the plug is cracked open. He won't have a new one because he doesn't believe any other pot could make such good coffee.
2. The smell of woodsmoke - I think nothing is more homely.
3. The blue part of flames; and watching the gum boiling out of cherry wood and catching light.
I must agree on woddsmoke.
ReplyDeleteWe had a writer's group a couple weeks back and had the delight of having a fire.
I live so urban now that going home with the woodsmoke in my clothes and smelling it on my sweater the next day made me miss all the days we used to camp and hike in the mountains.
YOUR FATHER AND MINE WOULD HAVE GOTTEN ALONG. YOU MADE ME THINK
ReplyDeleteFONDLY OF THE DAYS WHEN DAD WOULD
MAKE COFFEE AND COOK BREAKFAST, JUST FOR THE TWO OF US.IT WAS WONDERFUL TO REMEMBER DAD THAT
WAY.
THANKS,
Are you sure the "bubbling, rattling snoring noise" wasn't your father?
ReplyDeleteIt happens to us all eventually... :(
Did you like my red rose, will you be my valentine I think you are a beautifull think and I would like to hear you snorting and bubberling with me???
ReplyDeleteHi,
ReplyDeleteClare, please ignore that silly comment above. It was I who gave you the red rose.
I've admired you from afar for a long time, but have always been too shy to approach you. Hence, I would prefer to remain anonymous - I'm so sorry Clare, I so, so want to share my feelings with you.
Alas, it can never be.
You know, it's not easy being a middle aged lesbian.
No, my dearest. It was I who secreted that rose in your doorway. I was covering a story about rampant cows roaming the Pantiles -- the perfect alibi to drop off said plant.
ReplyDeleteYour one and only,
Ex-Courier colleague
My lovely things, of which there ate three:
ReplyDelete1) Coffee
2) Smoke
3) Fire