The stillness of Mrs Mallard high on on a wall above us as walked down the steps....
Mr Mallard strutting nearby - agitated when I got too close to her.
Our lunch in the Old Mill Bakery - edible bowls made of bread dough - heaped up with Cowboy Chilli Beans for my husband, Caponata for me.
A row of tall layered cakes on the counter in the Bakery - Caramel Banana,
Poppy Seed and Walnut...
Courgette and Lemon and Pistachio - how do you eat such high cakes without getting icing on your nose?
Made me think about the two cakes I made for my friend yesterday..... for the 30 women in her workshop....one of the cakes with coconut chocolate frosting like this one I made for my vegan cousin a few weeks ago. I wonder if the cream cheese icing on the carrot cake separated overnight in the fridge and if the chocolate polenta cake was moist enough...
My first sight of poppies this year - my heart always stopped by their vivid orangeness, by their blowing-in-the-wind flimsiness....
by the extravagant velvety spideryness of their centres.
And what surprised me today, too, was how easy it was to change my allotment and gardening plans, to change the pictures of my day, when my husband said he wasn't bothered about going to tie up the flopping broad beans..... and preferred to walk by the sea instead......and it did look like it was going to rain.
And when he said he was going to give up singing in his choir, and give up all his ceramic classes I could listen to his pain about it....imagine the prospect of all his empty days - the loss of my two free afternoons, my two free evenings.....and just let it settle in me and seep into the fibres of me.....and reach out to put my hand on his knee while he drives us home....and think about supper and not the path which could take me into an unbearable future .....surprising myself......keeping as still inside as Mrs Mallard.
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