vegan eclectic

i baked a banana-split tea bread to share between boyfriend, his friend, my mother and myself over the weekend. it sounds and looks like english countryside, but it tastes like the caribbean.

on chesil beach

rereading to feel again the sheer beauty of the words he is able to put together.

falling in love was revealing to her just how odd she was, how habitually sealed off in her everyday thoughts. whenever edward asked, how do you feel? or, what are you thinking? she always made an awkward answer. had it taken her this long to discover that she lacked some simple mental trick that everyone else had, a mechanism so ordinary that no one ever mentioned it, an immediate sensual connection to people and events, and to her own needs and desires? all these years she had lived in isolation within herself, and, strangely, from herself, never wanting or daring to look back.

ian mcewan ~ on chesil beach

la chambre rose

last year, at the start of our eventful adventure in france, boyfriend's bag did not show up at the airport of toulouse. he received a rescue kit to get through the night, and in it was the tiniest tube of moisturiser, which i used instead of him. i bought a larger version of it at the airport when we travelled back: i loved it that much. up to this day, with the scent of it i immediately find myself back in our room in a b&b that was every bit as cute and perfect as its name predicts. la chambre rose. now it's time to search for a refill to keep the vision of this memory alive.

pink and green

pink flowers and green parrots (if you look very closely) on a sunday afternoon walk through town. sure signs of spring.

old habits...

yes, old habits die hard. for humans and felines alike.

it comes together

these are the days of opening kitchen cupboards, at the same time realising i need to look somewhere else. of standing somewhat forlorn in the middle of the house, thinking hard of where to find this or that. even so, things are starting to fall into place.

sunday

all i want now is to look at life. you may come and look at it with me, if you care to.

oscar wilde

step by step

slowly starting to feel at home...

welcome to the grey house

we are unpacking and organising. meanwhile, the princess watches our progress from a safe distance.