I just love lemon curd, and for the Autumn Fair at the neighbor's farm I made one batch of the traditional type, and another flavored with lime and passion fruit. Absolutely divine, if I must say so myself... ;) Here's the only jar left; looks nice, doesn't it?
Is that what you would call me? No, maybe not. But you should never judge a book by its cover, right? Not that I necessarily would liked to be called Rock Chick. Just that I'm these days are tuning in to my new favorite channel as soon as I'm alone in the car - Bandit Rock - and turn the volume up real high. In my teenage years I used to listen quite a lot to heavy stuff, like Motörhead, AC/DC and Krokus. Eventually I grew out of it though; I think hard rock appeals mostly to younger people due to its intensity and energy, something we old folks can't follow. Joking aside, my current mood goes perfectly together with heavier rhythms like the ones from Dead by April (a band from my home town, Gothenburg), and I can feel the beat running through my whole body when they play the song "Losing You". Whenever it's on I get a little carried away...
I just love this retro humour, and today I bought 2 keepsake tins with peppermints. The first one here I think I'll give to Toril, and the other has no name tag on yet. Unless you call it...
Please don't tie me up against this one...
Yes, it is the trunk of a very thorny palm tree.
He could hardly sit still, and was talking without interruption for the whole time. While sitting at the table his hands were constantly fiddling with spoons and napkins, and when he joined us at the kitchen counter he asked about everything possible and impossible. "What's that?" he said, trying to stick his nose into the simmering pot, only to seconds later ask my mother what she was doing.
Soon it was time to pick up my daughter from the airport, and I decided my mother needed a break from this continuous blabber. So I brought him with me in the car, and then he talked for another half an hour. He commented on people walking along the road, wondered about the mysteries of the seas, and kept going from one topic to another in an endless stream of words.
Up at the airport I almost lost him while checking the arrival times, but I found him on the other side of the hall, looking at the new Volvo on display.
On the way back, we didn't hear that much from the back seat, I guess he was just trying to understand what me and my daughter were talking about. Lots of strange words, hard to comprehend.
Then who is this person I'm referring to? An obnoxious little 4 year old, with a severe case of letter combination? No, this is my wonderful father. He's 81 now, and he's always been a talker. A smooth one as well, I presume. (I have no problem seeing the type of guy I'm attracted to myself. The kind that always has a way with words, always knows how to talk his way out of trouble.) But as my father now is getting older, his ramblings are getting harder to follow, and we'll have to help him stay on track.
Just so you know, I'm fully aware that I'm very much my father's daughter, and I know whom I got my mouth from. I know I easily stray from the point when I talk, but now I see a little hope. I can change this, I can turn this around. Break the pattern. Maybe even keep my mouth shut from time to time.
Ventured out again yesterday, and this time I brought the camera. Or I should say phone - with camera. The camera is actually very good on this one, but I've already found it's rather sensitive to movements. No anti-shake as you can see... I was a little "excited" and probably didn't keep my hands still long enough.
But I hope I'm excused, it's no picnic creeping up on creatures like this one from behind...
Wouldn't face him straight on, can you blame me?
Here I got down on my knees. The Cantharellus tubaeformis looked like giant trees from that angle, and I felt like I was a mouse.
I know people start to build in height when the ground gets too crowded, but I was quite surprised to see fungi overcome vertigo and set up camp on higher altitudes... No Photoshop! No optic illusion! This one actually grew straight out of the trunk of the tree, a meter up.
I bet there was a whole magical world down there, in that old sawn-off tree trunk
I have also wondered often "Where do they sleep?" The wild animals that is, like the moose. Now I know; I found his bed in the grass.
And then I turned my head. Realized he'd probably be home soon. Time to go to sleep...
