Monday, March 02, 2009

Bread, sunset and green tea.

1. Pam sends fluffy yellow puris to the table. I sneak out to the kitchen to see her stretching and rolling the dough and frying them so they puff up like clouds.

2. It's hard to resent delays and a snarled journey when the sun is setting orange in a grey sky.

3. Finding a burnt sugar note in my green tea.

Blue glass, hot pink and bergamot.

1. Our taxi driver has a string of blue glass beads hanging by his window. He speaks proudly about his two boys -- one at school with my son...