The sound of wind through the trees. And of leaves under our boots too.
The hidden world behind puddles.
Knowing that Christmas is just around. Because, really, the best thing about Christmas is the perfect mix of anticipation and excitement.
Don't you love rain ?
Things that #1… I could fall asleep to
The sound of his voice in my head. And his hands tickling the back of my neck.
The lullaby of raindrops crashing on the ground.
The purr of a washing machine. Or even better, a never-ending passing train.
Comme la rosée des matins d’été – Confiture de concombre à la vanille
[Not unlike summer morning dew - Cucumber and vanilla jam]
I walked in mud and bought some vintage tupperwares at a vide-grenier. I saw waves bigger than life. I felt them too.
Les vagues
[The waves]
I drove along the coast on Sunday. It was raining. Of the fast windscreen wipers kind. And the wind would push waves on the road.
I stopped. And my cheeks turned pink.
Surprise, surprise – Madeleines aux framboises
[Raspberry madeleines]
This morning, the sky turned black, of the bruised kind. And then, clouds started to grumble, roar really. For minutes. And before we knew it – {insert French accent here} surprise, surprise {end of French accent} – rain was pouring down in the kitchen window.
On clouds blanketing everything we see – Roast chicken and root vegs
An hour ago, I took a whole – 1,5kg kind of whole – chicken out from the oven. Just for myself.
You see it started this morning when I first opened my curtains to a day where clouds blanket everything we see.
Through the wrong end of a telescope
I look through the window. And this is all I see. Rain and trees that snow.
The very spectacle of April happening before my eyes. But no matter how breathless it makes me feel – every single year – I somehow wish for more.
On thunderstoms and first kisses – Caramelised Jerusalem artichoke velouté
It’s been oh-so-quiet around here lately. Perhaps, that’s what happens when I have too much to say, too much to do, too much to look forward to.
But last night, I saw the dark sky turn into fireworks.
PS. I felt like cake; made one and ate a slice.
A friend, of the dear-to-my-heart kind, made this cake today. A few thousands of kilometres away. And I did too. In ten minutes, from cupboards to oven*.
It was eaten on the couch.
On secrets and playing pretend – Hot chocolate tartine
I’ve been grazing at the sky lately. Sure it was from my bed, possibly half-asleep and not-just-half-deaf, but it was during day time.
Or so I think.
The clock said quarter to three (pm) but the rain made it all so dark it seemed like an hour past my bedtime.
Street lights happen to be just like moments – Doughnuts à la vanille
[Vanilla doughnuts]
It’s been raining a lot these days.
And the night has been falling late in the morning; leaving very few hours for the light to turn from golden to blue.