A Vision

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

TSEliot The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock

No auroras last night, but a beautiful crisp and frosty morning with amazing patterns on our bedroom window, thankfully outside the glass. I went out for an earlyish walk - along the old green road towards Kilcrohane. I met no-one. The colours were intense, the robins singing madly, the views wonderful. As I came down on to the road, I passed one of my favourite abandoned houses. Irresistable. Frustratingly I still haven't managed to get in, frustrating for there are lots of interesting things within - I managed to press my nose against the smeary pane of the bottom window, entangled with yet more ferocious briars. Very sleeping beauty - and look, there she is at the window! Actually a bit spooky. I just showed this to Himself. He said,' that is you isn't it? it doesn't look like you'. I hope it is.

Home, and cleaning and cooking as we have friends to supper tonight. The menu is this: crostini with hummus and sundried tomatoes, a stewy thing from Yotam Ottolenghi (quite a fiddle and so far it's not loooking that special) and rice; baked apples with medlar syrup and custard.