Yesterday was glorious. The sun was out, the air was crisp and quiet, and a warm breeze rolled across the yard. It truly felt like spring had come. This, of course, means we pulled out the shovel, gardening soil, and cinderblocks so we could build a new planter bed in the back yard. We
have no grass anymore, it was spotty at best and would turn into the Dead Marshes straight out of the Two Towers. But I digress, I’ve told you guys that before. Now, with our 4th planter bed alongside our multitude of flower pots,
we have a designated growing zone for bell peppers and parsley! After our adventures in horticulture last
summer, we finally have a grasp on what grows well here. Tomatoes apparently
love it here, because the bushes almost ate me. Zucchini, eggplant, and squash also
spread with equal fervor, and the basil was almost a tree. But these particular vegetables of
enthusiasm bring something delicious to mind- ratatouille.
This was a request from our dad actually. We were
flipping through the DVD case to see what we should watch, and when my Dad saw Ratatouille
the Movie, he asked if we could make Remy’s dish. How could we say no to a man
who so loves ratatouille in all shapes and forms, baked, pressure cooked, or
soup-ified? The recipe is under the cut.
This week, we are offering the full SanrioHello Kitty Set (12 items):
outfit, dress, shoes, hat
drawers, planter, bed, table, chair, clock
Saturday: 27 sets available. Click here for a delivery on SATURDAY, 12 November
Sunday: 43 sets available.Click here for a delivery on SUNDAY, 13 November.
If the order form links no longer work, we have run out of sets, sorry!
Check your order here. (note: there is a ~5 minute delay)
These sets are free and limited to one set per person. Please make sure to read up on the availability of deliveries for your time zone when choosing time zone and delivery time! If you request a time out of our offered time windows your order will be cancelled without further notice.
Your URL needs to be entered correctly and your ask box or IM must be open, as it is our only way to contact you. If we are unable to contact you, your order will be cancelled without further notice.
You will receive a message on your delivery date from your deliverer with their info. If you did not receive a message on your delivery date, please let me know the following day, so the appropriate arrangements can be made to reschedule a delivery.
Max Liebermann (German, 1847-1935), Wannseegarten, Blick auf die Terrasse mit Blumenbeeten und Pflanzenkübel links [Wannsee garden - overlooking the terrace with flower beds and planters on the left, c1920. Pastel on paper, 22.5 x 28.8 cm.
I was tagged by @xdelayedgratification and as a non-writer, wanted at least to attempt it. I used to write a lot, ten years ago, but then I lost Mum and I put away my pen. It’s been a long time and I’m very rusty, so please be kind.
Rain. Drips chasing each other down the windscreen, running rivulets, blurring the view.
The station is a scene from a postcard, even in the rain. The sandstone buildings like red clay against the sky. There’s even a proper guard here, navy uniform and a whistle. As well as looking after the travellers they also tend the planters and weed the beds, proud of their postcard, not today though, not a soul to be seen.
I take a sip of coffee, gripping the cardboard cup. Feeling the corrugated ridges under my fingers, I’m thankful for the warmth and comfort it provides. Glancing at the illuminated dashboard display to check the time. Ten minutes.
I know I’m going to have to brave the storm and head onto the platform. Reaching into the back to pull out the coat and struggling into it; time. The wind tries to whip the car door away as soon as it’s opened and I cling to the handle, long fingers curling, knuckles white. Bent against the weather to forge forward, the signal is red and down the line I can see the train approaching.
Almost as if it knows, the engine sails the last section and comes to a halt in front of me in a screech of brakes. There you are. Facing me, behind the glass like a packaged doll. Beautiful and wistful and mine. Everything stops, wind and weather in stasis, falling into the background; my senses facing only forward.
Twisting the handle on the old train door and suddenly you’re in my arms in a cloud of scent; beret tucked down, crimson against the dark curls. You bury your face in the crook of my neck and weave your hands inside my funnel coat, I feel a month of longing pass between us and thank both stars and moon above for this chance to reconnect. Wherever you are is where I want to be. Almost as if you’ve read my mind I feel you raise your head a little.
“Tom..” you whisper “..I’m home”