Tag Archives: Sunday lunch
a day called Sun….
Cooking, reading and taking pictures in the warm sunlight that fills the kitchen on this quiet Sunday morning is as close to worship as my soul currently needs to approach. Bubbling pans and knives on wood combine with muffled snippets … Continue reading
Last summer whine..
The silence after the hubbub of Sunday lunch is like the white noise that fills the brain as a general anaesthetic takes effect. There’s a mixture of narcotic pleasure in the cushioned lushness of the collapse from consciousness, combined with … Continue reading
Fire up the de Lorean….
We arrived home without the expected three explosive flashes that accompany the moment of return from voyages back to the future. The sharp intake of breath as we entered our glacial stone house created more of a whimper than a bang. … Continue reading