...is sometimes wonderful. Like when your lunch is silverbeet fresh from the garden with mushrooms, olives, cannellini beans and a squeeze of lemon juice on sourdough toast:
... sometimes messes with your head. I spent so long staring at our lettuces during my morning coffee that I started to see ballet dancers.
Started to look a bit like this:
(except my lettuces have their arms folded around their shoulders, not stretched out in front)
Started to look a bit like the male lead here:
(except my lettuce is being more dramatic and yearning and is bending at the waist)
...and it sometimes leaves you to be the person left at home to discover that the two mysteries of our household
- where has the brush for the dust pan gone?
- why does our weird laundry/annexe room smell so disgusting?
can be answered in one fell swoop:
Because the brush fell down some odd, until-now-unknown open drain hole behind a cupboard and caught anything from any of our household sinks in the last month or two in its bristles. It was foul.
Ballet photographs by Andrew Bossi.