Tiny Pleasures #230: Dark Beer Dregs
The dregs of a dark beer on a winter afternoon. A sign of time well spent in conversation and contemplation.
The dregs of a dark beer on a winter afternoon. A sign of time well spent in conversation and contemplation.
I know a full moon comes around every month, but it continues to be a little joy to when shines down on me in the early evening, filling the sky with a purple hue. hdsr
I got all energetic and lifted the lid of my piano to record today. It gets a much better sound than using my phone sitting on the top! I've joined a songwriting club and have to write and record a song every week. This is not an easy ask, but it is very satisfying. I
It's fun to plant seeds. I sprinkle them on the dirt, water them in and promptly forget I have done so. Then one day I get a wonderful surprise to find they're sprouting tiny little leaves. Lettuce abundance is just around the corner.
I picked up Nat King Cole's 1957 album, Just One of Those Things, at the opshop for two bucks. Talk about money well spent. Nat's voice is the musical equivalent of apple tart and custard, perfectly balancing the sweet and spice. The band arrangements are spectacular and the songs are top shelf.
While walking to the shed this afternoon my attention was caught by a familiar yet unidentified scent. I looked around and realised my Green Wattle has bloomed. It is a mass of fluffy, yellow balls with a distinctive perfume that reminds of growing up in the bush in Smythesdale.
A verdant verge is a pleasure to behold on a sunny Sunday morn. Textures, colours and shapes combine to create a rectangle brimming with energy and life.
Outside the Brunswick library the footpath is littered with quotes about libraries and reading. One of the many benefits of not being in a hurry is that one has time to stop and read the footpath.
Abstract shapes appear in ordinary objects when the eye is open to ideas.
Ah, quel plaisir, what a joy to get up this morning to a clean kitchen. Dry dishes were put away and there ensued a delightful moment of emptiness, as though my kitchen were having a spiritual moment of zen nothingness.