Click HERE for Part I of this mini series
Mondays are usually my archive housekeeping days, and usually when I take the time to update my photography website. I like to shuffle the collections around, and arrange them according to mood and seasons. If you are a follower, then you will have noticed that I took down the autumn collection and put up the winter images already. It’s a mixture of old and new, and it gives me the opportunity to review my work and growth as a photographer.
Check out the updated collections here
Horror of horrors, none of the promised snow has landed in my part of the city. Instead, rain, rain, and more rain, oh and sleet, has arrived in abundance, all unelegantly escorted by wind – and I don’t like it. Wet streets and pavements in these current temperatures lead to frozen sidewalks, slippery roads, and out of control cars, busses, bikes and feet. Somebody turn me into a cat please so I can curl up in my cubby the whole day!
You would think that since the nights are long (here in Berlin they begin at 4:00pm and end only around 7:45am) and cold I would be indulging in teapots of tea, coffee, and hot chocolate, not to mention warm pies and cakes. No, not really. Call me crazy and yes, it is utterly bizarre that with all the warmth surrounding me in addition to all the duvets to snuggle under, I find myself craving for ice cream of all things! Although I have answered the siren’s call of the oven and indulged in experimental baking recently, nothing quite satisfies that urge to have a dialogue with the soul the way ice cream does.
Ice cream has always been more of a comfort food rather than a treat or celebratory anchor, mostly because of my extensive history of surgeries. Every time I woke up in the hospital and I knew there was no way of either speaking or eating solids because my lips were sewn shut in order to prevent swelling (NB: for those of you new to the blog, I was born with a bilateral cleft palate that required 15 reconstructive surgeries). Read the back stories HERE and HERE.
For the first 24 hours post surgery I was only offered broths and the liquid was injected into a small corner of my mouth. As a result, I grew to hate and resent soups the rest of my life, broths in particular. If I have to, then thick creamy soups are my chosen path, especially a good homemade mushroom soup. Although I must admit to always hesitating before that first spoonful and instinctively searching for the straw.
The weeks that followed I took my liquid meals through straws. It was awfully frustrating to have soups with little bits of vegetables that got stuck in the straw, but I also got to have a lot of milkshakes. Ice cream was always on the menu but had to be squirted into my mouth as well, especially when the internal sutures were healing and everything was itchy. Eventually I was allowed to graduate to baby food, which I hated even more, and inevitably reverted back to ice cream.
Later on in college, ice cream was a preferred comfort food after flunking an exam, especially accounting. Ugh, those were forgettable and definitely regrettable times, but our mantra was misery loves ice cream and the world always seemed more tolerable afterwards. As you can imagine, all these moments left a deep impression and forever changed the role of soups and ice cream in my life. Luckily I live in a country with very high standards and options for ice cream, no matter what season! I draw the line at the vegan range though, as it tends to be very grainy and I always have the impression of scooping up laundry detergent.