There’s No Place Like Home

Spending time at Riverside made me realize, yet again, how comforting ‘going home’ is … this, despite the circumstances. Sleeping in ‘my’ room; wandering the garden (alright, more working in the garden but that was fun too); evenings just chatting with mom. All that stuff I studied in English Lit about the importance of your ‘hearth’ came ringing true over those 5 days.

(sigh)

Granted, my mom and I have radically different takes on decorating. Mine is more a modern esthetic (thanks G!). Mom’s, far more traditional as these few pics show.

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1) the dinning room overlooking the Thames; 2) Mom’s livingroom (foreground) and sitting-room (background)


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3) ding-dong all day long [and so loud!]


Papa’s garden is gorgeous and they recently had an artist friend of theirs, the watercolourist Helen Allen, do a couple paintings which are in the kitchen (of all places).

Here’s a picture I took Saturday alongside Helen’s watercolour.

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1) my picture of the trellis; 2) Helen’s version done last summer


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3) Papa’s iris; 4) “Mom’s Porch” and the kitchen window by Helen

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5) looking across to the bird feeder



Monday’s reading: Three actually.
With thanks to orchidgrass, Mishima‘s “Confessions of a Mask” and with thanks to Jack, Wolk’s “What Einstein Told His Cook” and Dornenburg and Page’s “Culinary Artistry“.


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