Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Sawdust, ghosts and a supper.

1. I wake up to the new bookshelves' smell of sawdust.

2. The breadmaker is going. The floury ghosts of measuring spoons are laid out on the worktop.



3. Green runner beans and parsley in red tomato mince.

Tarry, rolling back and one last taste.

1. Much that I would like to sit and visit for longer packed in with red and crimson cushions and blankets, lit by a bright window and drink...