Fat Evening

A few days of humidity and then lashings of rain... the air has cleared, the plants are happy, the sun set gloriously, and I lolled on the bed.

Yawn

Perseverance is our watchword as we scale the snowy heights. Will we reach the summit? We can think of nothing but success. Will there be danger? Would we have it any other way?




Far from base camp now, we pitch a tent and attempt to conserve our energies for a final attempt on the peak. I admit that my resolve has weakened as I see the pathetic state of my companions.




We are down to our final rations, and - feeling done in - am surprised at the cheerful pluck on the faces of the rest of the team. They are a capital group of chums!




I can scarce believe it. Mount Knee is conquered!

Unctuous is Right

Breakfast in bed this morning...




Was repeated later in the afternoon...




Yes, it's that time again... pom season. It look a half hour to seed three large pomegranates. I got some on myself... mmmmmmm.




Served over this incredible yoghurt. In Canada all our packaging comes in French and English. I love the French description here. On the English side it says "Our richest, thickest yoghurt."




Check out those ingredients.



Soooooo good.

Sunday at Home

Two weeks ago at the One-of-a-Kind Show, I bought a new pair of sheepskin slippers. Now, as a bit of a polar bear, I don't feel the cold easily. But wintering in Toronto sometimes brings the sorts of days and nights that are just brutally cold. And wearing my new red slippers is like walking on marshmallows - so heavenly! I breakfasted in my pyjamas before the tree.

The big mug.

Night time twinkles... I can't get enough of my table top tree. It's five foot tall. My parents found one for their home (available at Metro, for you Toronto types) that's only two foot tall and already set in a holder - so cute! Apparently as my dad was carrying it home, people were stopping them to admire it, and - yes - even pet it. Small things have that effect. Of course I'll get pictures of it sometime soon.

Fat Evenings

Fat mornings are fine indeed... but I also love, on rare and precious occasions, a fat evening. Remember when you were little and sent to bed at a time when older children were still allowed to play outside? I remember it being daylight and being sent to bed! Laying there listening to the squeals of the bigger boys and girls playing seemed quite cruel.

Now it's a rare treat to retire to bed early in the evening, noticing the lowering light change the glow in my bedroom. I hear the joys and tragedies played out on the basketball court outside my downtown building. I hear sirens and laughter and the distant hum of traffic. If alone, I indulge in a neglected book. And perhaps my latest joy: Green and Black's organic cherry-studded dark chocolate. I recommend.

Fat Mornings

For a Monday morning post, this is a bit of wishful thinking...

"Faire la grasse matinée" means literally "to make a fat (or thick or deep) morning", in other words, to lie in, to linger in bed (alone or in company), or sleep late and deeply. I love this idea and indulge in it whenever possible, for my own sanity, and as part of my attempt to follow in my hero's footsteps. That would be Tom Hodgkinson, author of one of my favourite books, How to be Idle. If it isn't on your bookshelf yet, I suggest you amble down to your local independent book seller and treat yourself. There are more offerings from Tom, but I think this is the one must-have.

Quote of the Day

In the tenth chapter of one of my favourite books, How to be Idle, by Tom Hodgkinson, chapter nine is titled "5 p.m.: The Ramble".

"In the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the era of romantic poetry, countryside walking became the thing. The nature poets Wordsworth and Coleridge were great walkers. They ambled all over the coast of North Devon and Somerset in the years immediately following the French Revolution, and later wandered the Lake District. Walking for them was a crucial part of the creative act; it was when they thought, dreamed and also gathered images. Rural rambles were central to their new poetic philosophy, expounded in Lyrical Ballads (1798), of getting back to nature and simplicity."

"Indeed it was on a walk along the North Devon coast, just a few miles from where I sit at this moment, that Coleridge stopped off at the now famous Ash Farm, took opium and conceived and possibly wrote 'Kubla Kahn.'"

Quote of the Day

"3 p.m.: The Nap" is the title of chapter eight of How to be Idle, that great little book by my hero, Tom Hodgkinson. In it he quotes Winston Churchill:

"You must sleep sometime between lunch and dinner, and no halfway measures. Take off your clothes and get into bed. That's what I always do. Don't think you will be doing less work because you sleep during the day. That's a foolish notion held by people who have no imagination. You will be able to accomplish more. You get two days in one - well at least one and a half, I'm sure. When the war started, I had to sleep during the day because that was the only way I could cope with my responsibilities."

Thanks Mr. H. and Mr. C.! This chapter is very close to my heart. I have become a proficient napper. I look forward to these little escapes into the arms of Morpheus, and feel all the better for them when I awake, stretching, yawning, idly gazing out of the window as I let my body wake up in its little stages. It is soothing, comforting, healing, indulgent, sensual, and my absolute right. I embrace my freedom to nap!