All this talk of only shopping for essentials has got me thinking. After all, what is essential?
The shelves in the supermarket suggest that my needs are quite different from others. I don’t think I can remember the last time I ate dried pasta and I probably don’t open more than two tins in a month. But flour is essential for me to be able to follow my usual lifestyle, and so are milk, eggs and cheese.
Continue reading “needs and wants”
In the first post of the year, I suggested the outlook for the blog was “clear with a touch of Photoshop.” I’m not sure the photos in this post actually live up to that, as the sky is hardly what I’d call clear. Still, they have been manipulated in Photoshop.
In fact, there is only one photo and it’s just been altered to support my theory that how you feel about things has lot to do with your attitude and perspective. Note that I haven’t actually changed the colour levels between the different versions of the photo; all I have done is crop in on different sections.
So, life lessons from parasols:
Continue reading “lies, damned lies and Photoshop”
I’m really not one for enforced fun, but this past week I attended a couple of training days where there were ice-breaker activities before several of the sessions.
On the first day we had to arrange ourselves according to how many letters we had in our names – a fairly innocuous activity that was presumably meant to make everyone introduce themselves. In fact it resulted in pained expressions and much counting on fingers. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the polysyllabic Italian lady ended up at the far end.
Continue reading “(not) a singer in a rock-and-roll band”
I was brought up in a time before coffee shops.
Well, not entirely before coffee shops, but certainly before the global phenomenon of American chains with their skinny ventis, Americanos, and tall decaf drips.
There were tea shops in my childhood – both independents and the ubiquitous ABCs; and I have fond memories of Saturday afternoons spent in the Kardomah in Nottingham. But children were given nursery tea, while coffee was a drink for adults; even then, it was as likely to be Maxwell House as anything. (Our kitchen did have a bottle of Camp Coffee tucked away, but although I remember the intense smell of chicory of the inky brown liquid, I think it was only brought out to make coffee cakes, not to serve as a drink for guests.)
Continue reading “milking it”
I mentioned yesterday that I recently spent an evening sitting on a fire escape and thinking as the sun went down.
It had been a long, ridiculously hot, day and it was a relief to know that I didn’t have to walk any farther or do anything else until the next morning. The top step was quite a good vantage point and I gazed out over the town.
Continue reading “horizontal thoughts”
don't confuse the narrator 