Bolognese daydreamer

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Photo at Pixabay

I guess all of us daydream about food. I’m still working on losing some of the pounds that girded themselves about my waist over the Christmas period – so perhaps my culinary reveries have been sharpened a tad.

One of the ingredients that will combine with those in this photo is presently browning in the pan. I know what outcome I’m dreaming of, and thinking particularly of a world renowned city where I once revelled in the most enormous dish of it. What does this photo call to mind for you? And where?

Little bins

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Photo at Pixabay

Every day, twelve little bins in which to order disorderly life, and even more disorderly thought

Mary Oliver
Upstream, page 25

Recycling in the UK has had a bad press this month. I read I’m not as good at it as I once was, and need to live in one of four counties to pass muster. Boxes and bags are out. Ubiquitous and ugly wheeled bins host the nation’s best-ordered recycling efforts.

Mary Oliver writes of the social self that might be cycling life through ‘twelve little bins’ – the hours of the clock – more concerned with keeping pace with the ‘regular’ governor of time than with whether or not it gathers ‘some branch of wisdom or delight’ along the way.

Containers play their part, like the hours. But both the regular and the irregular – coupled with an ability to reflect and to ask ‘what am I doing and why am I doing it?’ – are essential elements whatever we’re talking about, wherever we are, and whatever we do.