If you were wondering where I’ve been lately, here’s your answer.
After a long (very, very, very, very long) period of renovation work on our home, my beloved piano has finally returned from exile (otherwise known as storage). And are we glad to see one another!
Moreover, there can be few pianos in the world with a prettier view. Which makes it even harder to leave that stool.
If you’re in the mood for singing carols this Christmas, you know where to come.
Black ice. We’re treading gingerly. Today’s will be a slow walk.
Chunks of ice litter the reservoir road like crystals fallen from a giant’s necklace.
There are feathers…
Feathers, feathers and more feathers. There’s been a massacre in the night.
We come upon a tree, its lower half in deepest shade, its topmost twigs in sunlight...
An abandoned hub cap, snapped in two…
It’s finger-nippingly cold. The sun is on the farther shore. Where we can admire it best.
We stop to examine two hoops, missing the log usually threaded between them. Two cyclists pass by. And say hello.
I never ate eggs as a child. Horrid things! (Actually, it was the yolks that were disgusting - the whites were just about tolerable.)
The only time I would eat eggs was at children’s parties where, along with the ubiquitous jelly and ice-cream, egg and tomato sandwiches always seemed to feature on the menu. And those I liked.
Looking back, I don’t know why my mother didn’t capitalise on that aberrant liking and feed me egg and tomato sandwiches regularly. As a way of getting the egginess inside me. But she didn’t. So it was only on the merry-go-round of frilly dresses and party games that eggs and I got along.
These days I do eat eggs. I prefer them soft boiled and served atop a lentil salad or with steamed green veg like French beans or asparagus. A few weeks back, however, some boiled egg on my plate happened to collide with a tomato. And the combined taste catapulted me back to childhood and those forgotten sandwiches. Delight!
Since then, I’ve been deliberately recreating the mixture. Today the soft eggs and chopped tomatoes were mixed with a good dollop of pesto, some torn basil leaves and lots of salt and pepper. Who needs jelly and ice cream!
Speaking of presents (we were, remember?)….might I humbly suggest the Dixon Hill e-course, Falling Into Place, as the perfect Christmas gift? What better way to enter the New Year than mindfully connecting with the amazing world about us?
Lovely gift vouchers are just waiting to wing their way to folk who need them. Simply click here to purchase in the usual way then leave a message in the Paypal ‘Notes to Seller’ saying you want to buy a voucher. It will be sent to you to pass on to the happy recipient; or, if you leave a name and address, can be mailed straight to the person in question.
Don’t forget yourself! I always think it’s mighty important to have something specially nice to look forward to during the gloomy days of January and February. The course usually begins the day after sign up….but if you tell me you want to start it on a specific date (such as January 1st) that will be arranged.
As my special Christmas gift to you, I’m discounting the course by a whopping 40% between now and the end of the year. Click here to read more about Falling Into Place or here to take advantage of this seasonal offer.