Little jewel

Slow day

The sun shines, it is unseasonably hot, I am in cotton and sandals, in March, and disinclined to do very much at all.

The cats seek sun, then shade; the garden grows.

My heart is full; I am in love with my life.

.....except that I woke up today with a clump of flea bites at my waist.

I have nothing much to do except to deal with the seven furry donors of the fleas, who were all treated (at great expense) exactly a month ago, to wash bedding, and in a leisurely manner, to prepare lentil and halloumi salad and new potatoes for dinner.

Despite the itching, life remains astonishingly, overwhelmingly joyful.

Scratch, scratch......

New shoooooooooes!

Childish delight.

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Sometimes, little things bring unexpected happiness.

Today all it took was neighbour Claire's car in the sunshine, communicating with:

the little pane in the front door.

And then - for a few minutes - the hall became a light show:

Morning sunshine transformed.

I am often intensely happy here in my little house.

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Crystals in the windows; kitchen cupboards today.

Spring sunshine!

Reflect on this

The sun doesn't reach my north-facing sitting room windows.

Unless neighbour Claire parks her car at just the right angle to bounce the sunlight off the driver's window into my house.

Early

You have seen this beach and headland on my blog before, in photos taken by both Tricia and me, but you haven't seen it - photographed by me, the slow getter-ready in the mornings - at 7.30 a.m.

Blue Anchor.

For the first half hour of our walk, as the sky lightened, Flossie and I -  and a few birds - were the only ones there.

Just beautiful.

Playschool for grown ups

To this nice little shop/cafe last night, for a chocolate-making workshop. Two tutors, three students, a vat of glorious milk chocolate, wonderful samples, and over three hours of learning and fun.

First, a demonstration. Tempering, and how to make nice neat chocolates without covering yourself and everything within three feet of you in chocolate.

With high-tech equipment.

And then we had a go. Within moments, we and our surroundings were covered in chocolate.

A bit messy, a bit lumpy, but completely, deliciously edible for all that. The word the cheerful tutors used throughout, when we bemoaned our grottier efforts, was "Handmade!"

There was a much larger hollow piece too, but...  er... well, it vanished before it could have its photo taken. Mysterious, I know.