a memory of orange
sparked by that little white dress
which she wore again today,
three summers on,
as an airy blouse

[photos of marrakech by k]


once upon a time
there was a cornflakes box  .    .       .          [ template here ]


in real time, every year
our neighbour kindly brings round a bagful of tiny plums
they were a little sharp so we stewed them
and ate them with vanilla ice cream :

> bring 500g of plums to the boil with 4 tbsp water + 2 tbsp sugar.

> tuck a cinnamon stick + 2 stars of anise amongst the plums, turn heat down to a gentle simmer + leave fruit to bubble slowly until tender  - 10/20 minutes depending on ripeness.

                                                                     [ from tender ]



the other night's dinner
grown from french heritage seeds
into these primitive animal shapes

simply prepared with garlic, olive oil, cherry tomatoes
it always feels good eating the garden )



k. is back from rabat
with some blues and greens  .    .      .



when it's 43 celsius it might as well be a rainy day
playing outdoors is inconceivable
so we hover drowsily in the dark shadows and make
clay biscuits, among other things

the thought of turning the oven on to bake real ones
just doesn't even enter our minds  .  .   .




1950s wooden bead handmade ceramic bead |
 sterling silver | waxed cotton thread

i have a beautiful friend
both inside and out
this was made for her
happy days, καλή μου Α

 yes, i have rivers running down my arms )



a little parcel from morning calm, beautifully curated
it soothes the skin and lifts the spirit
a. appropriated the flower soap Hwasoon kindly sent as a gift
for her bath and she reveres her tiny tube of rose lip balm


a.'s first herbarium
deliberately set up to be photographed.



hot   |   hyper  |   happy  !

(and the bedcover goes quickly back on the sofa .   .    .  )


a rose for ariane -
 thank you for the liebster blog award
i couldn't bring myself to choose
so i send it on to all of you as a 
thank you for sharing your days.






our weekend at the family home
one thousand metres up
with my grandfather, 96, telling stories
of barefoot winters and hard agricultural work

what to do with those stray chickens?
luckily, after much circling, they worked their way back in )

there are a few more - maybe tomorrow )


the central plain already shorn and bundled
but in the foothills and their mountain 
the shoots are young and green .   .   .

hope you had a great weekend !