One misty, moisty, morning,
When cloudy was the weather,
There I met an old man
All clothed in leather
All clothed in leather,
With a cap under his chin.
How do you do?
And how do you do?
And how do you do again?
It's one of those little gifts life hands you every once in awhile: a rainy Sunday morning. That which invites you to have coffee in bed, to loaf around in your pyjamas and to think of things to cook. Tomorrow I'm heading out of town for the week for work, so I've got some things in the refrigerator to use up, like a red pepper and some zucchini. I had recently noted this recipe in my Pinterest recipe collection which I'd saved from my favourite foodie blog, Skinnytaste.com, and decide to make it, modified to incorporate some not-so-skinny pancetta, also sitting there in the refrigerator. More thumbs-up from both sides of the table.
Walking to Mia's from the station for what will be, as always, a luscious meal. It's a little hard to walk out – rainy and blustery is real good at inviting you to stay in and, say, do laundry. Going out finds images like this and thus all kinds of opportuinity to play with my new PhotoShop software that I got with my new computer. Bear with me as I play – and work out a style!
Later, I get off the streetcar and walk down Spadina home. It's still raining, and that makes it quite pretty. It's almost November friends. I expect a lot of my photos will be night shots again. And so another year comes around.
Oh how I love a misty morning. I walk the long way down Wellington just to see those towers languishing behind the low hanging clouds.
When I was a little girl, I was enchanted with a foggy morning. Mist, with it's silvery, lavenderish cast, was more beautiful than the sunniest of June days. I would run to school imagining I was an angel running amongst the clouds, filled with energy as if the close air enveloped me with some new and everlasting oxygen.
The fog still calls to me and I still go half expecting to find another world.