Sometimes when I'm at a loss for a photo, I'll go back to this time last year. Things were delicious this time last year. All orangey and coffeeish. Things are still pretty here, the street I drive down every day in my office park is a long stretch of flamboyant color, and my apartment is toasty and blanketish. Things aren't as delicious though. I've been eating at home too much for that, my own ridiculous creations, accidents involving cuts of meat I don't understand, or negligence in the form of frozen bags. For lunch there's a frozen box, and now that B has an office job, the lattes aren't the same.
It's indicative of something, of course. I'm a little hungry these days, but not the good kind of hungry, where everything looks like a feast. It's that kind of hungry where nothing appeals, and of course that's how you end up with the frozen box meal. Food as necessary.
Other things are feeding me though. Books. Work. Plus, travel transforms, and next week I fly back to California for the Tomales Bay workshops. I know what I want when I get there. A latte from the little stand there, one of those oat bar things, some oysters from Tony's, a burger and milkshakes.
Some things are just always good.