One day I will tell you why I’ve been so quiet this past month. Right now, it all gets down to my bed, a virus, a bottle of water, and way too many pills for one girl to take.
In fact, I should probably start with the usual Happy New Year and all the trimmings that come along. I had planned to. Selecting one picture for every month of 2011. It looks pretty.
But I’ve never been good at doing things the right way.
Instead, I’m here to share what’s been keeping me going through my hibernation. A hibernation made of pillows and fever-nightmares. Of wool blankets and dreams that felt so real I didn’t want to wake up.
Yes, I’ve been sleeping. Through Wednesday and Thursday. Friday and Saturday. I missed a night of drunken fireworks. But it’s ok, because a week before, as I was walking home after work, I had my very own.
In a street so quiet, except for the rain. But really, who consider raindrops a noise? Under the light.
I’ve told you before, I’m sure there is a hidden world behind puddles.
My last touch with the outer world.
Yes, after Into the wild, let me introduce Off the wild. Where more hours are spent asleep than awake* and the only food worth eating is a cherry compote that might not taste like my grand-mère’s, but is decent enough.
Without the occasional cherry stone, of course.
I’ve been reading too. Dan’s latest book. And a few online favourites, both old and new. Gelato al limon, Poppies in October, À boire et à manger, Je veux être bonne…
* An upside-down, inside-out version of my usual everyday. Perhaps, I have fallen in a puddle…
** A totally random post. But I thought the compote jar looked pretty. And I started drawing, for the first time in days. And then, somehow, I had to write. Maybe I shouldn’t have. Oh well, this is what temperature does to you.
At least, tell me what’s your very favourite compote flavour?