Slippin' on skins

Some stories are so good you just have to go right out and steal them; today I start with an anecdote from a legendary raconteur who co-works with me in my day-money-job.

'After the war, my father went and bought a banana, which had of course become a scarce and cherished food item. Carefully he divided it between himself, mother, myself and my three brothers and we enjoyed it greatly. Afterwards, us four boys spent the whole afternoon slipping on the skin, until there was literally nothing left of it - brought up with cartoon antics and slapstick humour, the banana skin slipping was a far more exciting event than tasting the fruit!'

I just looovvve it - picture those four little blond Swedish boys leaping on the ever diminishing banana skin... I have a tear in my eye.

Tonight is leftover night, an event for which we too have cartoons to thank; Mr and Mrs Incredible to be precise. It may be a little on the sad side but we relish our leftovers and peek into our little plastic butter tubs with glee on the given night; its hardly a recipe but for the record....

Take contents of plastic butter tubs saved over previous days; in this instance curry, chilli and some rice. Heat on the hob and wrap in (surprise) wraps - some great deals to be had on these, with some salad, or tomatoes, or whatever else comes to hand. Tonight we have creme fraiche - wot a bunch of poshies. What this equates to in budget world is a free day of food! We are laughingly well up this week , to the unheard of degree that we went on an Amazon rampage and actually bought some entertainment commodities for the household! Woo hoo.

Reading some lovely comments from a fellow painter on the web about the light and colour of the Sud de France, as beloved by many beloved painters of hers and mine (and the gatepost's).

I remember being knocked sideways by the light in Dubrovnik as I really hadn't appreciated before then that light could be different according to location - I mean its the same sun innit? There, the terracotta pantiles reflected on the undersides of passing seagulls, giving them orange tummies, and the light out on the islands was shimmering, ethereal and misty all at once, like magic. So the south of France is creeping to the top of my 'must visit' list for the end of our impoverished year; learnt to drive on the right in Tuscany last spring, so a road trip to Antibes..... mmm mmmm smell the Mediterranean pines in the hairdryer wind....