the dove and the hilly slope

kitchen chaos

holidays ☺. in a daze ☻. i'm redoing the kitchen, or should i say; the builders are in and seriously messing about with my living space. yes, that would be putting it mildly. 

cleaned up, turned round that studio. no drawing ☻

i have to look for peace and quiet elsewhere. not so obvious, because many people seem to be noisily renovating too, in my street, and trains are packed with loud travelers, and the weather is hot. 

all done. 't was good

i did pirouette round a thrift shop yesterday, and i walked a few miles up and down streets and pastures. and yesterday, as i got home and decided to finish a short stories collection by kate atkinson, ...

my bookcase in quieter days

... i found her. or him, i have no idea. a fellow traveler calls pigeons the rats from the skies, because there are many, which i find rather lyrical, but it has me bemused some...  really? 

calm before the storm, i suppose. also, showing off my good leg. ☺

anyway. i crossed the street in front of the house, hoisted the dead bird in tissue paper and posited it in a flower printed paper bag, and away i went, onto the hilly slope i like to wander. 

sleep well, dovey

and there, i put the pigeon to rest, underneath a tree that will always be reminding me of the pigeon that died in my street, not sure why, there was only little blood on its breast. 

(homemade) (mhmmm, yes) seitan and red pepper stirfry with orange and thyme, and crushed potato and courgette

walking back i talked to a few people on the street, but never said i walked up the hilly slope to bury a dead animal. it was my tiny secret, shared between that common grey dove, and me. 

bon appétit, or else, have a bloody good week ahead! ♥