1. Under every camellia in the street is a pile of discarded blossoms.
2. An unpleasant lady flumphs herself down on the sofa in the middle of the gallery to have a stressy phone conversation -- 'I want to speak to a man, not a woman... I said I wanted to speak to a man.' I stop enjoying the pictures, and feel myself stiffening.
Then the museum attendant comes across the hall and tells her off: 'We don't allow phones in the gallery.'
'I'm sorry, I'm on the phone.'
'I said we don't allow phones in the gallery.'
The phone lady stomps out.
3. Watching sugar melt; and the smell of caramel in the flat.
Wet Sunday, resting and re-do.
1. We wake to the sound of heavy rain -- just right for a simple Sunday. 2. I put my dough in a bowl to rest, and take a quiet half-hour mys...
-
1. An enormous fat bumble bee at work. She is so bulky that she can knock dead blossoms out of the way as she gets right in to the new jasmi...
-
1. The shortest night and the longest day. I was up at Wellington Rocks with Anna, Paul and Jason. We couldn't see the sun through the m...
-
1. I promised myself I wouldn't moan and grumble about it -- but I do. And as if by magic, a very kind friend produces the required blaz...