Blogue d'un québécois expatrié en Angleterre. Comme toute forme d'autobiographie est constituée d'une large part de fiction, j'ai décidé de nommer le blogue Vraie Fiction.
Tuesday, 27 May 2014
Longing for a fireplace
Today is cold and wet. Yesterday was cold and wet. Wet like an English day, cold like May should never be. I already blogged about the weather this evening. I blogged about it yesterday. I promise tomorrow, I will find another topic. But it does not feel or look like May, anyway. I should be in short sleeves, I wear long sleeves and I miss sorely my old green jumper. And more than my green jumper, I miss a fireplace, any fireplace. We have two in parents' home, I wish I could be there right now, lit a fire and warm my bones by the fire. I took this picture in The Three Tuns in Henley, I thought it was worth the fanciest ornaments one could ever have. A bunch of logs, simply. I love the pub for many reasons, this is one of them. My dad had a whole bunch of logs like these ones, enough to warm up en enlighten many cold nights. Or days. I love the warmth, but also the colours of the fire and the smell of smoke. I find fireplaces soothing and comforting.