weekend colour palette // red

Last weekend wasn’t the best of weekends, I have to say. There was rather too much rain lashing off the windows, and stress-induced tear-soaked pillows, and tug-of-war matches with words that wouldn’t ease up on me (‘come on, guys. Give me a break here!’). But – even in the tussle of it all – here’s what I noticed. These red things. Popping out of the grey. 

There were odd bits and pieces around the house: books and (actual) Russian dolls, and shoes, and old-things from my late-grandparents found in a silver tin (Granny Chrissy’s tiny driving licence, a favourite photo of my Dad and Grandpa). 

There were things-I-stood-in-the-rain-for: the ferry, the post office doors, some flowers.

There were food related moments. Like the juicy crunch of watermelon triangles, and minestrone soup from the slow-cooker, and a rare outing away from the PhD to catch up with old-flatmates-and-co for dinner (Rosie – the beautiful girl in red up there – is getting married later this year, and moving down to England for a while, so it was a goodbye-for-now dinner. Which was a sad reason to be meeting. But good to visit, nevertheless. She was holding up the silver tray our bill came on at one point, and it cast such a lovely light on her face that I had to leap up and take a picture. Isn’t she lovely?)

❤

I’ve been trying to stay away from my phone the last few weeks as much as possible because it is an MTG – i.e. Major Time Gobbler – so for these pictures, I switched from the iPhone to my DSLR. It was the first time in more than a year that I’ve used my camera and it made me remember that I want to learn how to work all those buttons. I’m adding it to my growing list of Things To Do after this study! Other things include: learn how to make an origami elephant, read Gone with the Wind, travel somewhere in Asia, make steps towards preventing potential-impending-Cat-Lady-future, bask in the bliss of being able to write what I want, watch the rest of the Gilmore Girls guilt-free. 

Following the difficult weekend, this first week of August has been a good, if incredibly full-on, week. May this next one be similarly productive (for me and for you).  

ps. This post has been written bit-by-bit over the last week as I've been working pretty much all day everyday on the thesis. Got there eventually though. Also pps. I've written a little about this colour project - which is actually Lu-from-Beside the Danube's idea - in the previous post). 

notes from the hermitage // forget me not

There are so many things I want to write to you about, friends.

I want to tell you about how it snowed this morning so now the house is glowing with brilliant white light, and about the full moon I saw one evening back in the autumn while I was on my way to buy carrots from Aldi – it took my breath away and I chased it around the village in my car on the drive home. I need to tell you about the life-changing discovery that is: roasted broccoli* (um, hello, Green Deliciousness. Where have you been all my life?). I’ve been blown away by so many wonderful novels the last couple of months, and I’ve been saving up things to write about them because: trust me, you need to read these books**. They’ll change your life for the better. There are pictures and pictures and pictures on my laptop that I want to show you from the places I travelled to last year: from rainy Amsterdam, to the Southern heat of Georgia and North Carolina (where I was complemented by a gargoyle. Yep, you heard me right), to the green-doored Moniack Mhor (which is the most beautiful writing centre up in the North of Scotland. I spent maybe the best week of 2016 up there and fell back in love with writing while discussing the importance of stories with kindred spirits and eating, amongst other things, some great quiche). 

Oh goodness, there's so much to write. But *scratching record sound* – not for another few months. (Dangit.) This blog is on hold for a little bit longer because of the Great Time Consumer and Attention Demander and Monolithic Mega Project that is The PhD. 

I’ve mentioned that I’m doing a Creative Writing PhD before, I’m sure. But in case you didn’t know: that’s what my full-time – albeit unpaid – work is at the moment. I’m in my final year and that word – final – brings with it a very real sense of urgency as the countdown till the submission date ticks a little louder, and a little louder, in my ears. I’m very deep in the heart of finishing off the novel just now (and enjoying getting a clear run at working on it. I feel most 'alive' while I'm writing, even if also I find it very difficult). But I'm a terrible multi-tasker. So, to get to the end of the novel, I’ve had to become a bit of a hermit for a while. The only way to 'hear' the story is to switch off all the other noises, it seems. Noises like: Facebook, and watching TV, and, I’m afraid to say, the news (because, heaven help us all, it just frazzles my brain these days. But being stunned into panic isn’t helpful to anyone. I’ll re-engage with it when the book's finished). All those are things I could do with less of anyway, but other noises that I’ve had to turn down include, yes, this blog and other good things like: leaving the house sometimes, and seeing my friends more than once in a blue moon***. It's just for a season though. I believe in the work. It'll be worth it in the end (...right? *nervous laughing*).  

Anyway – I just wanted to say: please do keep checking back on this blog, because I’ll be returning to it in a few months. Writing on here is one of my favourite things and I was overwhelmed last year by so many of your generous comments on my posts (thank-you). I will be back. 

In the meantime, I have been ‘micro-blogging’ over on Instagram since the new year if you're interested. What does that look like? Well, I’m trying to take at least one picture a day that tells a story. And I also talk a lot on there about how much I love Jane Eyre and how the writing is coming along. You can find me under @teaandascone). See y'soon. 

//

Notes:

*Broccoli: Okay, this can’t wait. Here’s what to do. Chop the broccoli into little trees, toss with a little olive oil (if you have garlic infused oil, all the better), salt and pepper and bung it in the oven for about 15-20 minutes (turning it a few times so it gets crispy all over) and: voila! (You could also add some lemon zest, chilli flakes and a little grated parmesan. Amazing. Even if you don’t think you like broccoli: try it. Let me know if you like it).

**Books: the good books include Olive Kitteridge, All the Light We Cannot See, I Capture the Castle, and Jane Eyre (obviously).

***friends that I haven't seen in a while: I haven't forgot about you. I still love you. (Don't forget me ❤). I'll be back in the world soon.

//

Dear July, seven // from the cutting room floor

Because it's been a while, I thought I'd type out some recent 'noticings' from my writing-notebook. (I've written about keeping an observational notebook a few times before on this blog, but specifically: here. Basically, I am a bit nosy but use the excuse of ‘I’m a writer’ to legitimise writing down interesting things strangers are doing in a little notebook. 'For the novel. It's for the novel'):

One // as seen from the library window

Two bald business men in lilac shirts are eating fish and chips in the company car. They’ve opened the doors – wide. And rolled down the windows – all the way. They’ve flicked their ties and lanyards over their shoulders. The larger of the two men smooths a white napkin across the lap of his black suit trousers before tucking in. And so it goes: the rain coming down outside, and the two of them - the air con blowing goose-bumps up their arms - eating chips on a Wednesday afternoon. Life is good.

Update 10 minutes later: It looks as though the larger gentleman also has a packed lunch with him, because he’s just finished eating a banana and a yogurt – the carton of which he’s just crushed in his fist – and there are crusts (from a recently consumed sandwich, one can only assume) sitting in little right-angles in the Tupperware dish he’s just put up on the dashboard. I suspect he’s eating this second lunch to smother suspicion when he returns home because he is, after all, meant to be on that diet ('Did you eat your fruit, Arnold?'). That’s why the windows are open, why the AC is causing an autumnal gust inside. (‘We can get chips if you like, Graham. But Marjorie must never find out...’

♥

Two // trying to describe a man I keep seeing about town

He’s the kind of man who tuts to himself while going about life. Tutting at the laptop screen, rolling his eyes at emails, mentally shaking a fist at the heavens whenever the rain comes on. He’s the kind of man who wears a blazer with his blue plaid shirts (always those plaid shirts. ‘Every day the plaid shirts’). The blazer and the plaid shirt and the jeans, and that hair on top of head like Fezzik from the Princess Bride. 

♥

Three // on the baristas in a coffee shop one morning

I’m writing in a coffee shop today, sitting beside the door to the kitchen marked ‘private’. Staff members keep walking in and out with cups and mugs, so the dishwasher must be in there too. The girl with the messy ponytail who served me peppermint tea has just walked past with a tray full of dirty saucers. 

‘It’s a busy day,’ she’d said earlier, her eyes tired. ‘I'm feeling a bit stressed.’ 

As she got closer to the door – ‘Private’ in gold letters – her colleague – bearded, happy eyes – bounded up the stairs towards her, almost skipping. 

‘Hey!’ he said, coming towards her. 

‘Hi,’ she’d said, her voice quiet, shifting her arms under the tray to balance the weight. 

She leant against the door with her back to push it open and at the same moment he reached out to help her – his hand on the door so near her head that his arm was almost touching her cheek – following her round with the movement of it. She breathed in. As the door swung closed and I heard the clatter of the tray being put down, and I did wonder whether he was going to kiss her in there. She came back out about 10 seconds later, her fingers touching her lips...

♥

(Pictures from an evening walk along the canal last week with a nice friend...) 

Dear July, five // something you might like to eat

Dear July,

As a small break from my usual pontifications, here are some pictures from my birthday on Tuesday (featuring: a birthday breakfast, a walk round Finlaystone Country Estate, my mother smelling a rose, some sun on my face, salad assembling, a strawberry shortcake, the feet of my family, and the beauty that is the view from our sea-view home). Stay tuned for some strong opinions on salad and a 'recipe' for how we made it...

Quite a lovely day with some of my favourite people.

♥

[Some thoughts on salad and a summer salad recipe]

In my family, salads always have lots of ingredients (though: no raw red onion, please #badbreathforamonth). And all of those ingredients, including the leaves, should be chopped very small (to prevent chokey-ness and looking-like-a-rabbit-ness). To all the restaurants that call a bowl of iceberg lettuce with half a slimy tomato and a chunk cucumber ‘A Side Salad’: I have only this (<-- click that word) to say to you.

I'm a hungry person, and quite like to hear about what other people are eating, so – if you're much the same and are keen to know – here’s what we had in The Delicious Birthday Salad:

Baby-leaf salad leaves . cucumber (chopped up small) . little tomatoes (chopped up small) . avocado (chopped up small) . sugar snap peas (chopped up small) . strawberries (chopped up small) . crumbled goats cheese . toasted pecans (scattered on top) 

The dressing was a basic vinaigrette from Shauna Niequist’s Bread and Wine - very easy to make because you just add everything into a jar, then put the lid on and sh-sh-sh-shake it up baby: 

1 tbsp Dijon mustard . 1/4 cup balsamic vinegar . 1/4 tsp salt . a few twists of black pepper . 1/2 cup olive oil

We ate it with a warm, buttered ‘trio of olive bloomer’ from Tesco, and some Italian herb marinated chicken cooked on the barbeque. And red wine. Delicious.

//

Dear July, three // uncharacteristic

The other night, I had a dream in which I was about to perform a sort of free-style-rap* slash Dr-Seuss-type-ditty to a circle full of strangers. I don’t remember why, in the context of the dream, I felt the need to do this. Nor why I felt certain that I should give my performance in a country-twanged American accent. Very unlike me (when I actually find myself in a big crowd of strangers – unless I have a clear ‘role’ to play – I tend to spend a lot of time “looking for things in my bag”, wandering round the perimeter of the room trying to give off the impression that I'm headed somewhere, or hiding in the bathroom, wondering whether it’s rude to leave yet).

In the dream, I was convinced that what I was about to say/rap was pretty knee-slapping-ly hilarious and it was definitely going to get some loud laughs from the people gathered around. I was sleeping, but I was also conscious enough to think: ‘Goodness me. I’ll need to write some of these rhymes down when I wake up, because this stuff is golden.’ 

Thankfully, I woke up before the actual outburst. I doubt it would have gone to plan. As often happens with dreams, the moment I opened my eyes: the whole thing disappeared out my head like dishwater whirl-pooling down an unplugged sink. So I wasn't able to write any of those hilarious rhymes down on paper to share with you. What a shame. 

All I really remember is that the rap had something to do with sweetcorn*.

//

In other news: today, after writing some of the novel/PhD to give myself a head-start on the week, I baked 17 cookies on a whim (banana, oatmeal, chocolate-chip, coconut, pecan). They filled the flat with a delicious warm scent (fyi, I took that first picture by putting my camera on a timer, and then holding the phone between my chin and neck. Such elegance).

Also: thank you to everyone who has been reading these ‘letters to July’* so far. I’m never sure who is reading this blog, so I have been surprised and moved by some really beautiful comments the past few days: thank you. 

//

Notes.)

*On free-styling, you should watch the Flight of the Conchords' 'Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymenoceros'. 

*On sweetcorn: Who knows... sleeping-me is a strange being that I don't pretend to understand.   

*The original idea for the series last year was sparked by Emily Diana Ruth's beautiful video blogs. You should watch them.