where art collides philosoperontap

Day Eleven. Inauspicious. Omelette with smoked salmon plus a gallon of tea. Milk running low and represents this morning’s shopping list. Low sun no surprise. The gentle hum of the dishwasher. A silent wife nurtures her sore throat. Previously unnoticed chimney pots on the horizon. It is a Saturday morning. Occasionally a cough breaks through upstairs. Another day of getting things done ahead, at least that’s the plan. This is not a jobs list thing it’s a Tref thing. The list is in my mind and has been days, if not weeks in the planning. The kitchen is brightly lit. There are a lot of lights in our kitchen. I note a few breakfast items need putting away. I note also maybe one hundred cookery books in the kitchen bookcase. Many recipes, mostly untested. It is not yet nine o’clock. There is no rush.