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.

Sparrows, sourdough and hoard.

1. Fluttering on the edge of vision -- a few little brown sparrows touch down in the garden, and then take off again. 2. We suddenly remembe...