Tag Archives: The British Summer

Comfort Eating

7 Jun

I know the British summer is notoriously fickle but today takes the biscuit. It’s been so cold and wet that Husb and I went to the Continental Cafe for a full roast dinner at lunchtime, and lashings of hot tea, wrapped in layers of jumpers and raincoats. And now this evening there’s a storm going on outside with gale force winds and torrential rain. It’s the school holidays and summer festival season – Download and Hay-On-Wye have started and they’re getting washed out. Awful!

Anyway, here’s a couple of people also eating winter fodder in the Continental earlier. The chap, a policeman, had an interesting way of holding his fork in front of his face while he chewed . He had his summer uniform on. It’s a popular cafe, good, unpretentious food at very reasonable prices, very old school, always full. It’s been there a long time. You can’t beat it really, especially in the sort of climate when you might need comfort food at any time. Like we do.

A Load Of Mangy Scribblings.

23 Dec

Ink sketch: small boy with dangling legs.

When I was in Art College, back in the days of the dinosaurs 😉 we were told to keep a sketchbook and to put something in it everyday. What fascinated me at the time was the diversity of sketchbook styles and approaches amongst my fellow students. Some put as much effort into their sketchbook as they did in final pieces of work and produced these sumptuous, wondrous, beautifully bound confections teeming with exquisitely rendered drawings and paintings, illustrations and collages. True to form, my sketchbooks tend to be a load of scruffy, mangy rag-tag collections of thoughts and scribblings, sometimes almost as many written as drawn lines. I suppose they’re a drawn diary of what’s caught my attention at the time, so when I look through them, it triggers memories and takes me back to the time and place of the original drawing. They can sometimes be very emotional so I’m a bit careful about letting people look through them.

Sometimes we get some quite nice weather in the British summer. Sometimes, not often. On these infrequent occasions, husb and I like to stroll along the beach just a few minutes walk from our home and around the local marina. There’s a nice cafe / ice cream parlour there with little tables outside, overlooking the boats and this fine day there was a little boy sitting with his Grandpa at the table in front of us, his little legs dangling in mid-air as he tucked into his ice-cream and pop, because he was too small to reach the floor. It wasn’t easy to draw his tiny skinny legs through the legs of the chair. The rest of the page is filled with notes about a completely different drawing which is in another part of the sketchbook entirely.

%d bloggers like this: