Watch this space. In the next episode , the whole story!
I go to see my friend Anna who is staying in a rehabilitation centre near here. She sits by the window looking out on the lawns, where she tells me she saw a hare this morning. We talk, among other things, about Montaigne, who on his own admission writes only about himself, or at least of his own experience, and yet who seems to have been the least self-centred of men.
It occurs to me, in my morning reverie, that cooks have an instinctive capacity for remembering people's likes and dislikes. So that many years after hearing a preference or an aversion expressed someone, who, like me, enjoys cooking, will recall that a friend does not like cucumbers or marrows or that someone else has a passion for crème caramel, though he may have forgotten his opinions on films, books or sport.
There is a certain translucense about the blue flowers - as if they have a light source of their own, hidden deep inside them... brilliantly captured. I scroll down everyday to take a look at this picture - thought I might as well tell you how much I enjoy looking at it...
Thank you Rashmi. It is encouraging to know that flowers please you. Buds do seem to have an inner light before they open.
I'm quite good at remembering what people don't like to eat, and also what colours they do and don't wear...
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