Last night, I had a pottery-warming party to celebrate the rather wonderful working space that my husband has built for me in the garden. I asked my ceramic chums to bring some food for the table, and one contributed some nice biscuits, on the box of which I came across this blurb:
"The aroma of fresh baking plays on the sea breeze, bare feet leave imprints on the warm sand, and starched sheets reflect the afternoon sun. Trees cast blue shade in the yard and in the distance the sound of creaking floorboards and the rustle of leaves can be heard. Collecting seashells on the shore in the morning light, embroidering initials on white pillowcase [sic], sipping tea from tall glasses, chatting idly with no need to rush anywhere and watching the world gently turning, this is the best of all days - sitting with Elsa on the balcony and enjoying the quiet rhythms of life."
Phew - sounds exhausting to me! Not to mention the requirement for time travel to do all those things at once. I imagine someone in a stuffy office was given the job of dreaming up romantic nonsense.
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im sure i write vague stuff when bored at work
James.
20/07/07 @ 15:25