Saturday, 30 June 2012
By far one of the best parts about being home is popping out to the back garden from the kitchen on a sinfully warm day, and snipping tomatoes and basil warm from the vine (and stem, I suppose). There is little better than a tomato warmed by the summer sun, the smell of sunshine still lingering on its delicate skin.
Tuesday, 26 June 2012
Friday, 22 June 2012
Ok, so... not actually taken by me.
But I would just like to say, if I were staring into a looking glass, I'm pretty sure this is what I'd get (if flowery hats were to come back into style, as I'm sure they will. Just look at that thing. Stun.ning).
Also, side note: this is probably the most spectacular costume I've worn in this half of the last decade, but oh my great goodness, the thing is hot. As in sweltering. As in I lose half my weight in sweat over the course of each rehearsal.
But holy smokes, is it worth it. Take a look at what I get to be, six days a week.
Thursday, 21 June 2012
There is something so serene in the thickness of a fog that hangs in a forest. As you pulse through it, landing one foot silently in front of the other, the damp air clings to you and a peace descends, following you quietly along the solitary path.
And there's nothing else. Just you and the heavy stillness.
Wednesday, 20 June 2012
Monday, 18 June 2012
Wednesday, 13 June 2012
Man, I think I've run out of Ireland photos. See, this is why I should have done this before I left. Crap. You think, after all these years, I would be mature enough not to put off stuff like this. So, in lieu, here's some penguins. And a heron. A crane. No, a heron.
Sunday, 10 June 2012
Wednesday, 6 June 2012
Tuesday, 5 June 2012
Ok, this was meant to be:
January - rain and cold.
February - rain and more cold.
March - mostly rain, and not so cold
April - rain and no sign of spring anywhere.
May - rain and surprisingly depressing temperatures
The day Jennifer finishes work - sun and HEAT.
Thank you, weather system, for your vitamin D-filled endorsement. I thoroughly appreciate the support.
That's it. Finis. Good bye forever.
It's been a long year. Months of taking orders, of clearing plates, of talking to people I don't like about things I don't care about. Day after day of the same cyclical mundanity. But no more! This will be known as the last day I will ever waitress. Or bartend. Or serve people in an establishment where things are served on plates or in glasses (or at least let's hope).
Good bye, Alfies. You were fun while it lasted, but I'm moving on. Don't miss me too much!
Oh man. Good gracious. How could you not tell me I forgot?
HAPPY BELATED MOTHER'S DAY, MAMA.
See, had I been on top of my calendar and posted this on Sunday, I could have told you about this amazing gal called my mum. I could have told you that she's pretty awesome, hilariously funny, unbelievably caring and most of all, can make a killer grilled cheese sambo. I'd have told you how she never forgets a date (a skill obviously lost between generations) and knows how to throw a savage party. I wish I had her hair, and I'm grateful I have her smile.
But, I didn't post this on Sunday. So I'll only tell you this one thing. I love her loads.
Sunday, 3 June 2012
Now see, this is the funny thing about... life, actually.
It sometimes just slaps me across the face, how beautiful the simplest little bits of life are.
Take this egg for example. It just an egg, cooked gently in hot water. Nothing worth noting. And yet, noteworthy. A stunning capsule of liquid gold, just sitting modestly on my plate. No gilded mirror or cavernous hall to display its breathtaking beauty. No parade or announcement. No gallery, no press. Just a bed of vivid spinach, and a be-speckling of cracked pepper. It's so simple, and yet I cannot catch by breath when it catches my eye on a quiet, sunny morning, as the coffee next to me wakens my senses and my eyes focus to reveal this elegant delicacy before me.
And yet, it's just an egg... open your eyes, people.