after the rain, a quiet morning
Woke up to wet streets and a clean smell. Made coffee, sat by the window. No notifications, no rush. Just the sound of water dripping from the leaves. I think these small pauses are what keep us sane.
learning to bake sourdough
Second attempt. First one was a brick. This time the crust cracked perfectly and the crumb was airy. There is something deeply satisfying about flour, water, salt, and patience. Will try with whole wheat next week.
old notebooks and half‑written ideas
Found a notebook from 2021. Lists, sketches, story fragments. Some pages just said “remember this feeling”. I couldn’t remember, but the handwriting itself brought back a version of me. Maybe blogs are the same — a slow record.
tea, winter light
Low sun through the kitchen window. The cat sleeping on the chair. Earl grey with a little honey. That’s the whole post. Some days don’t need more words.