dove grey day: see

Showing posts with label see. Show all posts

2.18.2012

dip dye

fallen ombre petals from my congratulatory bouquet, one week to go and the new job begins !

2.08.2012

tabletop lately

leftover takeaway pizza

homemade apple pie

raisin bread french toast and melon

beans and veggie dogs with burnt toast

lunches and breakfasts mostly, by evening the soft light is gone.

1.24.2012

I cried while making the grilled cheese. But by the time we sat down for our meal, I was fine. This cabin, filled with smokey heat and cider we brought in big bottles, it is white and calming and temporary.
I'm trying to sleep this week. This morning though, the rain came down like soft hooves, and I had to get up and make a pot of tea. I sat at the table, after I had opened the curtains. The hillside was filling with fog. I crawled back up the stairs to you, lost in the sheets. Everything was white, and just the hint of warmth left from last nights fire.
We hiked in the afternoon, missing the turn so we had to double back across the valley. Up past the still standing ponies, then back down and over the river. The valley was a field of wild grasses, red and wet from all the night rain. And so their stalks were bent over, eat bush folded neatly in half. The thin tree branches covered in lichen and moss, and just dripping with water, the ivy is what makes these bare hills green.
The mud was long, slipping and slowly us down. Kissing gates and then the river turned, sending us up the hill along the stone walls, covered with lime. I got so hot marching up the rocks, we marched right past Meg's Folly and then that nice wide farm on the left.

Just to catch the sun on the hills across the valley, the field turned yellow under the glow. A few minutes later it passes, only to hit another bluff , and then we are right back where we started.
That red wine won't drink itself, we go inside.

1.23.2012

on the way, ross-on-wye

So we've gone on a drive this week, 'round the bends and through the valleys.

On the way, we found Baileys, thanks to our lovely friend Emily and her recomendation. Photos not usually allowed here, but I managed to get a smile, and I'm in.

Vintage meets re-made, meets France meets countryside, and the swirliest writing on tiny brown labels. Shelves of reclaimed glass, bins of pegs and brushes, enamel cookware, and classic linen towels in crisp red and white, and soft blue and grey.
But most importantly I want the industrial wire pigeonholes. And those bare filament bulbs, to fill a barn with my treasures, ladders all the way to the rafters, softened floorboards under foot.

wire and wood and rough wool, grey light no sun in sight

January days and the sun is so low, barely there. The building large, but inside, each corner and room give light to every object, collected and categorized.
It's the small things I save in jars, bits of string and a stone from that one day, holding onto our days however we can.