weekending

By mid-week it was time to call in the big guns to adios a miserable cold turned sinus infection with an unstoppable cough. Antibiotics are never a fun experience (hello acidophilus, meet what used to be my stomach…) but I was desperate to round the corner to wellness. Yesterday my energy returned and I was symptom-free, which felt like a very big deal. It was a chance to reinstate things that I’d given up on lately—cooking, cleaning and venturing somewhere (anywhere) beyond my neighbourhood pharmacy—and to recapture some kind of natural rhythm.

On Saturday I took a garden walk in my hood, camera in hand. I quickly became fixated on a mass of peonies and roses tumbling wildly across a nearby front garden, the romance of which was killing me. So busy was I with my camera, I hadn’t noticed the owner, though apparently she’d noticed me besotted with her garden. So when she approached with pruners in hand and asked if I’d like to take some blooms home, I was gaga in the way that only someone who is intoxicated by the fragrance of David Austin roses can be. Once at home, their Old World scent exploded, filling the apartment with the most delicious, fruity perfume that stirred even Number Four. And on Sunday, he and I did our usual pancake brunch ritual, this time with a chaser of local strawberries, and those sweet blooms on the table.

The afternoon was spent poking around the health food store, strolling in the sun, eating Dolce Gelato (a sublime bacio-pistachio duo), cat cuddling at Number One’s house while she was on her anniversary getaway, and adding to my (endless) Things To Do In Bali list.

I hope the weekend replenished you too. X

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