A hard morning's rising, but tea and toothpaste, orange juice and toast, coffee and marmite and marmalade, all combine to make the waking world a place where I'm happy to be again.~
The bamboo steamers stood stacked in the middle of the table like some marvellous dream; each time it seemed we emptied them, another layer was removed, revealing yet another filled again with the steamed dumplings. And the smells of plum sauce and honey, star anise and cloves sweetened the house for days.
On the road which passes through the market gardens on the way to St Brieuc, I pull up behind a tractor with a trailer loaded with Brussels sprouts. It makes me think of Christmas.
My friend G, he of the Gallé cat etc, has just opened a Wordpress blog for his paintings, which are glorious coloured abstract landscapes, or at least the two he's posted so far are. He's being sniffy about blogging and says he probably won''t do much on it, so I reckon that means he has to be chivvied a bit.
(Stansted Mountfitchet, Essex.)