Things to Do in the Belly of a Whale

^ andreas m. wiese (via share some candy).

Today the postman delivered to me a large packet of very aromatic chilli and a recipe for 'Chilli Con Vege', odd but delicious. My hands smell very strongly of chilli just from opening the envelope. Our friend Ash stayed over last night, took us out for Thai food and later introduced me to the wonders of Degrassi Junior High. I'm not very far in yet and I have a long way to go. I think my favourite character so far is Lucy. Today I am having a sneeze-a-thon and have dosed myself up with antihistamines, lounging on the couch, watching Six Feet Under. Riveting stuff.

Here is a picture of me pulling a ridiculous face at dinner last night. I'm really good at unflattering photos. I just wanted to show you my sweet jacket;

And here is the chilli package;

When C gets home I'm going to bake these biscuits again and perhaps photograph them to show you, if I don't eat them all up first.

I came across this little piece of writing entitled Things to Do in the Belly of a Whale by Dan Albergotti and I rather liked it;
Measure the walls. Count the ribs. Notch the long days.
Look up for blue sky through the spout. Make small fires
with the broken hulls of fishing boats. Practice smoke signals.
Call old friends, and listen for echoes of distant voices.
Organize your calendar. Dream of the beach. Look each way
for the dim glow of light. Work on your reports. Review
each of your life’s ten million choices. Endure moments
of self-loathing. Find the evidence of those before you.
Destroy it. Try to be very quiet, and listen for the sound
of gears and moving water. Listen for the sound of your heart.
Be thankful that you are here, swallowed with all hope,
where you can rest and wait. Be nostalgic. Think of all
the things you did and could have done. Remember
treading water in the center of the still night sea, your toes
pointing again and again down, down into the black depths.