what the chef and the camera saw: a snapshot of baku and the caspian sea.
my weather predictions were totally wrong. there were at least 6 raindrops yesterday and, at times, it smelled like a wet pine forest floor. we are being spoiled with overcast skies and a cool breeze.
all the wisterias seem to have bloomed and gone quiet.
except ours which, after a single flower, is pumping all its energy into climbing the height and breadth of the wall.
our chef and our camera are in baku, azerbaijan. while digging into the photo archives + excavating the fridge, we miss them both terribly!
i am cheating a little.
these are from a couple of months ago, but saturday was just the same - minus the clothes. the scoop-and-bucket season is upon us.
talking of sun + sea,
my favourite beach bag just dropped through the inbox, reminiscent of those colourful, voluminous baskets local fishermen keep their nets in.
it was our first ever 'last day of school' today and we'd been wrapping 'thank you' gifts for the teachers.
more emotional than anticipated; our favourite teacher - who built up a.'s confidence brick by affectionate brick, day on patient day, all through this year - is going back home to scotland. but a.'s too young to know. she is still living off yesterday's euphoria and the school trip to the big park: "it was a very happy bus with all the children in it!"
just when we thought it was all over:
wind . . . rain . . . cardigans . . . we are happily confused - as if a sentence has been commuted!
of course it could be just climate change and we are going tropical.
[made a while ago for friends :: red silk thread // sterling silver // turquoise]
"something happened to the human brain, between say 50,000 and 100,000 years ago, that allowed this fantastic creativity, imagination, artistic ability, to emerge - it was probably that different parts of the brain became connected in a new way, and so could combine different ways of thinking, including what people know about nature and what they know about making things. this gave them a new capacity to produce pieces of art."
prof. stephen mithen, in neil macgregor's A History of the World in 100 Objects.
a tiny personal milestone: after a 3-year hiccup - the first ever and oh so scary - i'm reading again.
[jomon pot: clay vessel from japan, 5000 BC]
bathtime can be a fraught, precarious affair.
but not this afternoon. both entry and exit were consensual, hair was washed with neither fuss nor tears, and mummy + baby duck made a smooth transition from water to towel.
we are suddenly faced with a new child peddling 'yes' for an answer - and it takes some getting used to, all this sweetness and light!