I have been spending a lot of (mostly idle) time in front of this view up here (yes, it’s my old kitchen desk that you’re remembering, I’m sure), to avoid paying any attention to the other, wider view of the inside:
And, more importantly, to avoid thinking about the even larger picture:
It’s been a hard winter, this one. But at least we never lost electricity. Our house has been comfortable throughout and we’ve been able to cook ourselves small treats to get us through the horror of watching the snow pile up outside the window in an apparent attempt to bury us, house and all.
But my kitchen smells like spring, thanks to the hyacinths who, of course, don’t live on my desk but by the window where they get the light they need to survive. This whole desk setup is just made up for the sake of a pretty photo, obviously. I do keep the quince next to me, though. There is this memory from my childhood of wardrobes lined with quinces on top, making cold winter rooms smell all sweet and woody. The quince has been my madeleine for the past few weeks since I found it at the Indian market, filling me with nostalgia every time I catch a whiff of it.
Well, I think this post is not going anywhere from here. But I mean, really, I’m trying. I don’t know why you people complain so much! This has been a short but sweet visual and olfactory treat, hasn’t it? All right, maybe next week I’ll find the energy to write something more interesting. (No, it will have nothing to do with my life. Yes, I know, nothing could be more boring. Whatever. It would kill you to be nice once in a while, wouldn’t it?)