Of getting the paint out to create yellow-hued doors and splashes of sunshine.

yellow door

Of wading through warm shallows with red painted toes and time on my side.

Tuscany’s Elba Island is home to many gorgeous beaches, but Sansone might just top the list.                                                                                   (Tuscany, although I don’t mind finding myself somewhere equally nice. Never let it be said that I’m fussy.)

Of the day this book is available in paperback; I won’t be leaving the house until I’ve finished it.

Of silly-but-awesome kitchen equipment that will make me smile as I ladle out yet another warming and wholesome soup.

Nessie Ladle

Of a garden filled with daffodils that nod and dance, rather than mud and grass and muddy grass.

William Wordsworth, please do the honors:    I wander'd lonely as a cloud  That floats on high o'er vales and hills,  When all at once I saw a crowd,  A host, of golden daffodils;  Beside the lake, beneath the trees,  Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.  [...]  They flash upon that inward eye  Which is the bliss of solitude;  And then my heart with pleasure fills,  And dances with the daffodils.

Of finally finishing my crochet blanket. This may take a little longer than March to arrive. Especially when pesky cats keep me company.

Of wandering around this exhibition with the Teen who, I feel, should always be encouraged to reach for the moon.

Of Amsterdam. My head is full of Amsterdam and planning my first ever solo holiday. Scary and exciting and new.

Colorful Amsterdam, Netherlands

As we approach the arse-end of the year (February – ugh, I loathe February and it’s misleading hints of spring) and I tire of casseroles and stews and trying to find new ways with pearl barley, I need to be reminded that sunshine, birdsong, blossom on the trees, some other vegetable than swede and fewer than 4 layers of clothing before I leave the house is just a few short weeks away.

(Images found on pinterest via 1.; 2.; 3.; 4.; 5.; 6.


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