A different breakfast spot today. The summery summer weather brought it to mind because it reminds me of a restaurant in New England where we frequently holidayed, both the outdoor above-it-all balcony and the indoor seating in an old lovely house. So I ‘vacationed’. *
Still baking, the blackberry and lime muffins were near completion but the day-old carrot-millet-raisin looked worthy of a try and my experience with muffins at this eatery is that they get even better after ‘ageing’ in their initial richness. I cut it (knowing I would have to taste the lime-blackberry when it was ready) and put half on the plate with the huge lapin cherries and wedge of brie cheese I had brought from home. The other half, and half of the just-baked muffin, would go home and into my freezer to provide muffin ‘nuggets’ for lazy summer afternoon treats. (These are described in the cookbook STROLL THROUGH STASH: A Knitting Cookbook which is ‘on the needles’ at the moment, a sample in the July 27 2004 posting.) The coffee is fresh roasted locally and called Café Americano for some reason to do with how it is made that I didn’t really grasp – no matter – it tastes delicious, EVEN the decaffeinated which I had.
Food taken care of, I could nourish other senses by knitting and gazing about.
Next door to the right was a summer blooming tamarisk shearing pinkily (cutting lace-ily into my consciousness!) in a secluded back garden.
To the left, eye-catching, eye-holding, were the surrounds on three levels of landings. There were patterns cut into the sides, three different designs, one looking like a person dancing if you rendered fanciful. We so seldom see anyone taking the time (or spending the money – ah, there’s the crux!) on such artistic detail in architecture nowadays. I found this delightful and gazed hugely.
Then a dumpster diver doing his thing across the street was even more interesting. He had a shopping cart from some grocery store (and, yes, I had mixed thoughts about his having and using this!) and must have been just starting out on his ‘business’ as it was mostly empty. He was looking into the large bins behind a block of apartment building and retrieving an object here and there. Looking quite presentable (as fresh-from-the-shower as the more conventional people passing by on their way to work), what struck me most about him was the jauntiness in his stride. Carefree. His own boss. Of course I had a wonder at his income, at the balance of wage versus freedom.
The blackberry muffin was warm and tasty and fragrant. I think I was sighing in contentment as I glanced through the balcony railing to the brick courtyard below (okay, it was a parking lot, but that restricts the image; think of it as a courtyard on which cars could park) and noticed letters on the storm sewer grating. It took a moment to figure these out. They read OUTFALL TO STREAM. I was charmed: the thought of a stream in the middle of the city and water returning to it. Then I read what it said at the other end of the grating. DO NOT PUMP POLLUTANT That raised my eyebrows a bit. But I had nicely dined so was more amused than sighing.
* Common Sense Cookery 1127 Fort St. Victoria BC 250 475 0775