I've been listening to Solomon Burke's None of Us Are Free lately and also have been craving for some nice homemade pasta so I made myself some fettuccine that I intend to boil in milk and season with some walnuts and sugar in the morning. I've been kinda down. Somehow the easiness of mistake accumulation seems more visible in the last few days and I am sad and perplexed and angry and sad. Mostly sad. Right now before I went to bed I watched the beginning of House S06E14 to see Peter Jacobson/Chris Taub defend community again. I just love how it all makes sense when he does it; watching him I still see Wally Jabrowski and the world somehow feels less misaligned.
I woke up annoyed and sad, shaken by nights' restless dreams and incessant pain of my inflamed right wrist. Driving to work I stole milliseconds to stare into beautiful cloud-riddled sky and listened to Blue radio and in one thrilling moment, without any warning, Midge Ure song Breathe started on the radio. The annoyance thawed out and pleasure overflowed.
Now, that is what I call a stellar compliment: "You're the best mom and the best cook also!" and I can thank it all to cheese flavored pastries. You can also make these and bask in the warmth of similar compliments by rolling to quarter inch thickness one sheet of puff pastry and then covering half of it thinly with mixture of one egg, pinch of salt, two generous tablespoons of cottage cheese and two flat ones of sour cream (this quantity could be for two puff pastry sheets, it all depends on your measuring generosity). Flip non-covered pastry half over the cheesed one and brush lightly with beaten egg. Sprinkle with seeds; sesame, linseed, sunflower, pumpkin (linseed here) and cut into smaller bits with sharp knife or pastry cutter and bake in preheated oven (about 200 C or 390 F) for about 6 minutes, until puffed and golden.
In the above photo there is 5 leaf clover I found in my yard. Interestingly, I don't really regard more-than-three-leaved clovers as a particularly good sign. I do not believe in 'magical properties', I think that people should be attentive to their environments and that considering 'a bigger picture' helps make better choices ... and yet ... more-than-three-leaved clovers seem to jump out of the meadows for me to find them. It only looks awkward and magical but in reality it is more plausible that this is above mentioned attentiveness at work - AKA magic much more useful than the ordinary household kind.
... And not just any boot! Brand new gray summer boots with open toes and fancy straps. Shoes being one of my passions these really really made me happy and I'm already plotting and scheming plausible scenarios for wearing them.
This stunningly beautiful guy attracted my attention during Friday trip to Rijeka. He was about 2 inches long and grooming about 3,5 inch antennae on gas station near Karlovac. He patiently allowed me to take bunch of his photos and to be bewildered with clever and functional design of his body. I searched for extra information when I got home and it seems to me that he could be Neocerambyx Raddei of the longhorn beetles.
I never did like strawberries before I learnt how to make killer strawberry cake. This fact is actually a great description of many life facts in my life; I see things or circumstances, get challenged by them, peruse them, master them. Of course, mastery has rather subjective criteria yet I would not be fast to judge them insufficient. This being said one question logically arises: does the acquired taste for strawberries stem from repeated exposure, public declaration of commitment or commitment itself (investment size).
Driving around Zagreb so wonderful and hot and green and vibrant with life I was listening to Breaking Benjamin Phobia thinking how listening to this kind of music is like flipping a sex switch in my head - pheromone mode - and how I sometimes truly miss my younger self; adamant to find (and give) pleasure. Today I am more brave and particulate of how I like things done but also more 'understanding' of other peoples' shortcomings. Sex-wise it ain't such a good combination at all.
I'm lying in bed right now listening to Ramona Falls album Intuit on my favourite headphones. I absolutely love it. I fell in love with it first time I heard it and have grown to love the songs even more from then. I went to see Ramona Falls (with Dear Reader) perform in SC and it was wonderful and endearing experience in itself but I find it most fulfilling to listen to this album lying in bed at night hearing it through my AKG K-55 headphones. The sound is crisp and crystal clear, Mr. Knopfs' voice outwordly beautiful and every word perfectly distinguishable. I love how it is possible to hear everything in the music, even the sound the players' fingers make sliding down guitare wires when changing chords.
Yesterday evening we were returning from great Giant Sand concert and we were driving home, excited and tired and happy, exchanging impressions and giggling and sighing and yawning and in one sudden moment of silence my friend who was driving said: 'And the guy who got sacked due to recession downsizing and had his last day in the firm today, I could talk to him about music.'. It was so seemingly unconnected that the rest of us remained silent and he continued:'There is nobody left in the firm that I could carry on decent discussion about music with.'. As we drove in silence for minutes after that confession I thought how horrible this is - not the notion that there isn't anyone in your workplace that you connect to, or share an interest with - but the fact that there is Me on one side and the World on the other. That there are times we lose worthy conversationalists to flukes of (mis)fortune. And lastly, how terrifying it is to know that there are people feeling like this every day, permanently disconnected, barren to nonexistence, broken.