Spring
Spring is here, spring is making the trees burst into life, spring is.
And while it is doing it's thing outside, I am reading old entries in this journal and marvelling at the fact that I could write, once upon a time, and wanting to do it again. Rereading my life in words was such a pleasure. That makes me sound a bit self-praising, but is isn't what I mean to express. It's rather that I can recognise and feel my own emotions when reading what I wrote and I love that a lot of what I talk about is simply the day to day tasks I have done, the simple pleasures of a good meal, or cooking, or reading a fabulous book.
Actually, I should be baking an orange and almond cake, so I am going to do that. The oranges have boiled for an hour in water with a flake or two of cinnamon bark in it, and are ready for me to pulverise with a blender and then get on with the baking part of it.
God, I love writing. I seem to have forgotten this over the last 6 years. I hope I continue to remember.
And while it is doing it's thing outside, I am reading old entries in this journal and marvelling at the fact that I could write, once upon a time, and wanting to do it again. Rereading my life in words was such a pleasure. That makes me sound a bit self-praising, but is isn't what I mean to express. It's rather that I can recognise and feel my own emotions when reading what I wrote and I love that a lot of what I talk about is simply the day to day tasks I have done, the simple pleasures of a good meal, or cooking, or reading a fabulous book.
Actually, I should be baking an orange and almond cake, so I am going to do that. The oranges have boiled for an hour in water with a flake or two of cinnamon bark in it, and are ready for me to pulverise with a blender and then get on with the baking part of it.
God, I love writing. I seem to have forgotten this over the last 6 years. I hope I continue to remember.