Gosh, it was an exciting day here in the household today, I can tell you. Still, I quite like this shot, considering the limited opportunities the day threw up; I like the various arcs and textures and that it’s nearly monochrome, but with that nice blue intrusion of the cup.
Not an exciting shot, because not an exciting day, sometimes you just have to hang around at home and get the chores done. Tomorrow won’t be any more eventful either. At least it gives me the chance to show how the garden has started producing: the leeks, mint, rhubarb, rosemary and kale you see here all went into dinner, in their different ways.
Another Monday spent at home working…. working… all work… all work and no play?
Coming to the end of a long (for me) period of time spent entirely at home. Let’s enjoy the kitchen while I’m still around. This stuff takes an hour to make and costs about three pounds for a year’s supply — and is the best goddamn piccalilli I’ve ever had.
It would be lovely if I had been able to head off to some dramatic windswept coastal spot or gone up a mountain or made some other such photogenic opportunity. But I did tell you it wasn’t going to be an exciting weekend. So, courtesy of the self-timer, here’s me making dinner again. And yes, I can do pasta from scratch, it’s not that difficult.
It says a lot when you get a photo of my dinner, or rather dinner-to-be, as photo of the day. But on a grey, dull and uneventful December day, this was a splash of colour and form, at least.
I’m travelling again; rest of this week I’m working in Norway. But because it’s Bergen (the City of Perpetual Rain) it was throwing it down on arrival, so here’s one from the journey. Rim-light is always worth trying to capture but my attention was also caught by the crates at the top which looked to my eye like a piano keyboard.
Made no greater excursion into the outside world than yesterday, and the weather was worse too, with this being perhaps the darkest and gloomiest day I’ve experienced since January. Racking off the blackberry wine was about the most interesting thing that was seen in the day. Ahhh, alcohol. It’s all just the excretions of yeast, you know. Fungus poo, in other words.
To say it’s been a good year for blackberries does not even start to do it justice. If it’s possible to become addicted to these beauties then get me into rehab, I’m a terminal case.
Incidentally, it seems that the bloke I got a picture of on Saturday isn’t Edgar Davids at all. Whoops… sorry…
It’s not exactly home, but I’m here often enough at the moment. And I was working. Honestly. All the trappings are there – Mac, cup of tea, the essentials.
Being 42 