is what I would like to be contemplating through my jet lag haze at 4.00am this morning. Jet lag is a pain wherever you experience it; tiredness and a fuzzy brain are a bore however pretty the location. I have tried every antidote known to man to overcome the effects but whatever I do, or whatever I take it is a good five days before I settle back into my old routines.
Waking up before dawn is not my idea of heaven but rather than tossing around in bed, trying to sleep when sleep is never going to come I prefer to rise and shine....and read. There is something very peaceful about a home that sleeps. Tiptoeing around in the darkness and listening to all the familiar noises; the gurgling of the radiators, the sounds from the kitchen as the appliances buzz, the ticking of the clock that is so soft in daylight and so loud in darkness and the creaking of the furniture as it expands and contracts with the changing temperatures. Padding around barefoot and listening to these familiar grumbles is part and parcel of my homecoming ritual and as tired as I am I relish the familiarity and comfort it brings me.
Curled up in my favourite chair in my most comfy PJ's (jet lag means never having to be glamorous...) with a cup of tea by my side I have been reading, Lunch in Paris: A Delicious Love Story with Recipes by Elizabeth Bard. This is a very sweet memoir in the genre of Almost French by Sarah Turnbull. We all know the story - girl meets boy, boy happens to be French, girl and boy fall in love against a Parisian backdrop and girl and boy marry and live happily ever after. In this case Elizabeth Bard finds happiness and love through culinary fulfilment. I am usually not a fan of romance and recipe compilations but Lunch In Paris is an exception. Elizabeth has woven her love story, her quest to make Paris home and her love of cooking into a lovelymemoir. xv
image - harper collins via google
No comments:
Post a Comment