Archives for November 2021

A matter of opinion. No.

Beauty is what it is, and most welcome at that.

Is this more beautiful than that? Now that answer, is a matter of opinion.

But by and large I’m right!

We all are!

There is logic and wisdom and compassion – mix these and you have mixed the perfect tone.

No doubt.

The greens are on.

We’re talking about cooking.

The recipe, as always, is made up as we go along.

What’s in the fridge, what did we bring home from the market, what comes to mind – that’s how we cook.

It’s like the Salvador Dali meets Pisaro, of cooking.

But better.

Delicious!

Shifting towards fresh clotted cream and raspberry jam.

This is a traditional festive afternoon serving in England and especially the southwest region of Cornwall.

It is a Cornish Cream Tea. That’s the proper title.

Holidaymakers call in at “Teahouses”, which are usually decorated in the style you expect from a scene in a Dickens novel. Old tudor beams painted black, against rough or flowing looking walls painted white.

This is never going to be a fitness craze – that cream isn’t specially good for the health – but it’ll never disappear.

Oh tradition, oh me, oh my – when available you got to give it a try!

Enjoying solitary calm in the midst of crowds and the connectedness of solitude.

Well, it’s great to mix things.

Isn’t that just the reason people like cocktails?

Don’t answer that! Don’t even think about it!

Saunter down a tree-lined street, or better…if you can, a tree-lined path and imagine how many trees there are as far as you can see. Don’t count, that’s cheating!

It’s relaxing I think.

And then it’s time for a reward.

Yes, that!

Wondering what a ginger cookie, a government office and a beachfront cottage have in common.

It came from a series of apparently unconnected dreams, not nightmares, one night.

Someone had delivered a beautiful gold and silver and platinum box to our front door. Inside were the most delicious organic, what else, ginger cookies.

Then suddenly we were on the phone to a government office resolving a problem buying a permit to drive to a neighbouring county. Perhaps virus-anxiety-induced?

We ended the night sipping watermelon juice on the steps of the cottage, the only one on a crescent of beach framed by palms and tamarisk trees.