Fruit Bowl

I'm in love with my fruit bow. I have taken the darling out of the cupboard and placed her on the kitchen counter. This beloved and beautiful bowl was given to me as a present from a dear friend. She had been banished too long. Why you scream? All because I thought a fruit platter in the lounge was a better alternative! How fool hardy that was! My kitchen is at the centre of my flat, all rooms lead off it so I can check the state of the fruit and gaze adoringly at the myriad of good health contained therein oh and eat some three times a day.

Last night I went for a walk at twilight. I had been sat on my arse reading Country Walking Magazine when I decided i could actually do something active. I crossed farmland then through woodland and the tinkling brook therein sounded ten times more delicious by nightfall. The branches caught at my clothes and there was something extra scary about traversing mystical landscapes in the gloom.

I then walked past a row of English stone cottages, their lights burning within and curtains opened. Each had low natural beams, a sturdy fire and a fireside chair; it was so quintessentially English I nearly burst.

Came home and now I have the most delicious sensation of everything relaxed and thoroughly exercised.