One of the things I love most about this time of year, is the tendency for people to throw open their windows to welcome the slightly warmer (on some days) fresh air in to their homes. It brings with it the sound of families sitting down to meals and the lovely 'clink clink' of plates being picked up and laid on tables. Occasionally, especially if children are involved, you can hear lively chitter chatter as the working day comes to and end, and, if back doors are also ajar, footballs being kicked, goals scored, and water pistols fired in celebration. April and May seem to be the months where the UK holds it's collective breath and ponders whether this glimpse of sun is a fleeting one or could it, yes, could it just possibly be, BBQ weather?!
Rose & Grey recently set me a styling challenge and sent me a wire locker room shelf to play around with. While I have plans to position it within easy reach of our BBQ, a home for sauces, spices, tongs and a cocktail or two (chef's prerogative), the downpours which closely follow every period of moderate sunshine have prevented me from doing so just yet. But I will. And it will be amazing!
Until then, I'm using the shelf as a rather handy tray. And it has been performing the task marvellously. With sides high enough to hold cookbooks and magazines, and compartments perfect for herbs, oils and balsamics, I'm in danger of forgetting its real purpose and am tempted to declare it a tray, after all. If it looks like a tray, acts like a tray, could it, in fact, really be a tray? What do you think?
On Fridays, Paul works from home, and if he's able to tear himself away from his laptop and mobile phone, I dust off the colourful crockery and prepare a simple salad for lunch, and we pretend we're once more sat lakeside in Como discussing which villa is home to George Clooney (Villa Oleandra in Laglio, if you're interested ... the boat from Como to Bellagio takes you right past it). The rain often reminds us of our real location, and my littlest dude's cries of, 'tomatoes are yuck', lack the charm of a swarve, Italian waiter pouring me a chilled glass of wine, but they're nice moments, nevertheless.
Care to join us? I'll lay you a place. Clink clink!