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.

Watering cans, eating alone and settling down.

1. The grounding weight of my watering cans. 2. Our schedules mean that I eat supper alone in the peaceable, silent kitchen. 3. Now the chil...