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Posts Tagged ‘home’

Ingredients Found Around the Kitchen

3 slices of smoked salmon

teaspoon of chopped red onions

3 shredded red basil leaves

3 slices of a campari tomato

a little salt and pepper

a dollop of Steve’s homemade aioli

Served with 3 crackers and a glass of cold sparkling water (including 3 ice cubes). 😉

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You know those cards that have the seeds embedded in the paper?  Well, a friend gave me such a birthday card a while back.  I’m sure it was meant to be planted outside but I tend to grow things indoors now.  And so I tore up the black-flecked purple card embedded with wildflower seeds, and pushed the paper beneath the soil of a planter or two.  I’d almost forgotten that I had done such a thing and then one day I noticed in a pot of marjoram, new green growth of a different hue. Wildflowers!  Still, I did not think that they would grow very much.  But the spring sun worked its wily ways and one day I peeked into the hallway where the pot does sit, and this is what I saw.

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Today I was a bit housebound with various projects.  Still, the sunlit landscape called to me on many an occasion. As I have written before I am lucky to live in an old house well-kept in its old style with many windows of ancient rippled glass on all sides, some of which are double and even triple paned.  It is both exhilarating and calming to move from pane to pane, over time, and try to capture an ever-shifting beauty from sunrise to sunset.

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As much as I complain about the cold, I love winter’s light coming through the windows each morning.

How it shines on the walls and illuminates the most ordinary things making them extraordinary …

revealing fragile beautiful intricacies …

and delicate beauty.

 

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A paper umbrella, its red fading in the sunlight.

Powdered cinnamon about to be measured for apple crisp.

Steve’s well-used cook books. 😉

A golden yolk … too runny for me to eat, but so beautiful in the morning light.

 

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Of course, I mean nook as in my “small corner, alcove, or recess” and my  somewhat “hidden, secluded spot” where I can sit in sun or moonlight, to think, to write, to photograph … however the spirit moves me.  I feel very lucky to have access to such a place.

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Steve has two tables in his kitchen.  There is the larger central table where meals are served, but against the wall near a window there is a smaller table and that’s the one that holds my attention at this moment.  Sunlight pours through the window.  A variety of plants bask in the warmth.  Steve’s rosemary bushes.   A mug of basil. A rather mutant African Violet, a gift from a friend, that he refuses to replant … he’s hoping it will break free of its clay pot, and like the plant in the Rocky Horror Picture Show, start shouting, “Feed me!” Then there’s a clear glass vase of lemon yellow mums and a red pot of soon-to-bloom paperwhites.  Tucked here and there beneath the foliage small jewel-colored glass votives, a green bowl filled with oranges, and an empty mason jar that held  sliced strawberries just yesterday.

Above the plants, through the window, the sky is the lightest blue.  Seagulls fly all around, as do flocks of sparrows and pigeons.  The hawks are not nearby.  A gentle wind rocks the branches of the oak tree next to the house, and those of the maples across the street.  It is still winter, of course, so far too soon, the sun will set spectacularly, casting a warm golden light across the kitchen walls.  And then, even before I can race to grab my camera, everything will disappear into shadow.  For a little while.

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