Photopost: Festival Fireworks

I had to work from home today because I was sore enough that moving and eating made me feel queasy. At lunchtime I had to go into work to sort out a problem with access (totally accidental). I was using my stick, and bumped into a colleague who asked why I was working at home. "Because I woke up this morning in too much pain to walk anywhere." Ten minutes later, we had a conversation that ended up with me describing how I was off home to lie on my front on the couch because sitting up was getting too painful.
"Oh, I really envy you on your couch." says she.

I just ignored it, but it's now really bugging me that I didn't make reference to how she could enjoy the excrutiating pain too. Or similar put-down. I really hate esprit d'escalier. Dammit!

There is always tomorrow, but it would be too late, and anyway, I'm pretty sure it was thoughtless or badly put - she really meant she'd prefer to be working on the couch at home, rather than suggesting that I wasn't working, or that I wasn't in pain/didn't have a good reason to work from home.

Anyway, on a far more entertaining note, have some fireworks photos. These are all taken from the comfort of my bedroom window, while wearing my jammies. There's an advantage to living in such a noisy place!
Also, the only processing has been the watermark and resizing. All the weird effects are due to long exposures and in some cases, the high winds.


A good example - no photoshoppery, even though it looks like someone scribbled on the sky with a pencil.

I'll stick the rest under a cut; have a look:

Photopost: Food and Sunsets

The other night P and I made the First Pasta to be created since flatsharing started to happen. This is significant because it was brought into being after P got home from work at 10.30pm; under non-flat-sharing circumstances, this wouldn't ever have happened, partly due to not wanting to disturb my flatmate, and partly because I have to get up at 7.30am, and so like to be heading for bed by 11pm.

However! The joys of flatsharing are that all flat inhabitants are awake and involved in the cooking, and so can't be disturbed. Even better, instead of having to send pajh home so I can go to bed, I can be floating about in my pyjamas (and getting in the way). This time, however, I was allowed to help! This is mostly because P was Cruelly Savaged by a Very Sharp Knife. There's something endearing about a grown man sucking his thumb (to prevent bleeding) and directing chopping operations by gesticulating.

The resulting pasta - created by combined effort - is a thing of exceeding yummyness. In order to mark the occasion, this evening I made my plate of pasta pose for me (for a total of one minute before I fell upon it, ravenous). So, have some arty-pasta shots:

Tomato-y goodness: