Explanatory caption text: Um no, I don’t know what that red square outline is, some error I made with screen capture, I suppose. Tomatoes, red, sweet, delicious and organic, clustered together like pool billiards in an old handpainted Italian platter I found somewhere in Florence or Siena. Lemons from the garden, early winter lemons and not yet juicy enough. The kitchen table is impractical tongue-and groove white-painted pine and dates from a year when rustic shabby chic was popular. Shabby without chic is a good way to describe my, ahem, lifestyle. Various dogs and an sharp-clawed little grey cat have added their marls. Behind the platter and slightly silly red-checked place mats you can see most of a tall pepper grinder made of polished imbuia wood that grinds peppercorns very fine, right down to a handful of fragrant dust, and then there is a dark granite mortar and pestle I use to weight down terrines and keep papers together when I am working at the kitchen table. The small wooden salt bowl has been adroitly moved out of reach of the Great Dane and comes from Tanzania.
I mean, is there blogger life after posting your own images?
Here is my Great Dane lying on his bed, looking noble and dignified, wondering what I am doing holding up a small boxy thing in his face and talking to myself about ‘squeezing’ the camera icon, not pushing it, He still has his teenage acne but he is in the peak of glossy dogginess. Out here we don’t stiffen their ears up or dock tails or do anything like that. Satchi’s ears are au naturel, silky and expressive. He is wearing a jazzy red/orange African collar found at a coastal market and that white patch on his chest shows he is a type of Great Dane known as a Bismarck. Grossly unfair naming practice, since Bismarck was a short fat cigar-chomping Prussian who wanted to unify Germany by force, and the dog just wants me to give him a biscuit or pat his noble head.