The every days are the common days. Day after day they come, like beads on a string. I love every days. I love the routines, up from bed, wash my face, have breakfast, brush my teeth, take the bus down to work, home again in the afternoon, dinner, coffee, may be some garden work, writing a letter, reading, house work......... And I love to colour the every days. Like setting a table out on the terrace, warmed by the spring sun, fish, a carrot salad prinkled with fresh green herbs, potatoes sprinkled with chives, water, a little creme fraiche, sun in my face, the grand daughter of our neighbour playing over in his garden.
Every day dinners are simple, made of pure ingredients. Preparing a meal is like writing a story, doing a painting, choosing the right words, the right colours. Blend the food, find the right china to set the table, to serve the potatoes, the vegetable, the sauce. Often glasses in different colours, a soup as a starter, a salad. Simple food, prepared, served, eaten with our minds and hearts here and now.