Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Point, prints and push.

1. At the first stroke, the sharp new point on my pencil pops and crumbles into a tiny constellation, black on white.

2. Dry morning. No-one in sight. Dew wet footprints on the path get fainter step by step.

3. One last push late at night to finish my day's proofreading.

Rising, skiing and winter TV.

1. Watching the thermometer lounging in the marmalade pan creep up to 104C. 2. Fine rain is blowing on a mean wind across the slope, but she...