Thoughts of a Soo

A YELLOW SALT DOUGH STAR  PodBean Link for those who like to listen This morning the air does not smell like the aisle with lots of candles in it at the supermarket, nor does it smell like last night’s paprika in oil casserole starter. And this means that for the first time since starting this blog in September 2023 I cannot report what Monday smells like. My sense of taste and smell have been affected by covid this past week. I can sense there is taste to things and luckily, I have a good imagination so can sort of sense the flavour of things I am eating, but only salt actually registers. And as for smell, the only things that have been evident since Friday are that supermarket scent and the beginning of yesterday’s dinner, and even those were dim.   Although covid greyed my week it had a wonderful beginning ... Good company and the kind of conversation that makes time fly over a delicious and leisurely lunch at Shrub in Chester. It was lovely to eat ou...

FROM COUCH TO CHRISTMAS LIGHTS IN LESS THAN THIRTY SECONDS    This morning the air is misted by rain and brings the scent of damp, aging leaves. The night holds tight to sunrise slowing the day’s beginning.   Alt text says this week’s photo is a plate of heart-shaped cookies. I wholeheartedly agree and look at that plate!   PodBean Link for those who like to listen This week I did some recipe testing and these biscuits were the result. I had a very clean kitchen floor before the baking because I had moved everything in the kitchen for a good mopping and just as I had finished, and mopped myself out of the room I tripped over the bucket. The floor got a very thorough second clean whilst I cleaned up the lake I had created.   I am a very neat and tidy baker when I have weighed the ingredients in advance and set up the kitchen. Unfortunately the same does not apply when I leap off the settee suddenly fancying biscuit...

PUT THE BACK OF YOUR HAND ON YOUR FOREHEAD AND WIGGLE YOUR FINGERS     PodBean Link for those who like to listen This morning the air is cold and wide. I believe I can smell the woody sap from the myrtle branch that was snapped by the recent heavy snow fall.   The snow saw us choosing to hibernate indoors with only a brief attempt at a snowman. That young person who used to love playing in the snow didn’t resurface in me for this snowfall and my snowman was not a success. On reflection I rushed it and didn’t wrap up as warmly as needed to complete the task effectively. The hot chocolate afterwards was delicious nonetheless!   Alt text says this week’s photo is a group of people posing for a photo. I say it is Kath and I posing with a promo board after seeing Wicked .   The weekend started with a trip to the cinema when we found ourselves with some unexpected free time, and ended with a fast food burger. I felt young again!...

A HANDSHAKE FOR A CONVERSATION AND THE ICING ON MY STOLLEN 63 This morning the air is cold and the waxing moon is white against blue. I rather wanted there to be a smell of recent rain in the air even though I am a poet who doesn’t like petrichor, but it is clear and fresh this morning.   Alt text says this week’s photo is a piece of toast on a plate. I say it is indeed that very thing. I also say it is a piece of toast on a plate in which I saw a face whilst I was deciding whether marmite or marmalade would be the appropriate topping one morning. Perhaps a photograph of the stollen from Stollen and Wolle would have made a more appropriate photo for this week’s blog, but I ate that before thinking to capture its image. It was one of the nicest pieces of stollen I have tasted! PodBean Link for those who like to listen Looking back on this week I see there is a linking theme. A first meeting in real life with someone I know, a nearly meeting with som...

POETRY AND PROSE    This morning the air carries the essence of brown leaves. They are there mixed in with the wet yellow on the ground while a few are still to fall from their twigs. Some are holding their shape, and others are beginning to fold and soften. As the sun rises it brings orange and purple. PodBean Link for those who like to listen Alt text says this week’s photo is: a book on a colourful blanket. I say it is My Humming Bird Father by Pascale Petit on a hexiflat blanket made from left over wool from a vast array of projects and designs by my lovely wife. I loved spreading out the reading of this book over a week and finding different places in which to read it. I saved the final hour of reading for a sunny courtyard in Bakewell while Kath was teaching a knitting workshop at a yarn festival. It felt good to finish reading in the open air. It never ceases to amaze me that I see a film of the book in my head as I read, and I loved watching this one unfold....