New paintings and regular art updates.
It’s too cold to drink you,
Ice, lemon and tonic water.
Too chilly to quaff you,
Gulp your icy liquid down.
My thirst will be quenched
With decaff coffee.
Or decaff tea,
Hot and brown brews,
Or maybe hot mulled wine.
But….
I can’t wait for summer
When glittering, cool drinks
Will seem sensible,
And not send shivers
Down my spine…
As a change from blue, white and black, I’m having a red drink (cranberry juice, slimline tonic and frozen berries instead of ice) in a green glass which is the bottom of a recycled wine bottle.
Tasty, low calorie and has a bit of fibre in it. I think I’m going to have a rest from painting for the rest of the evening.
Her face seemed chiselled and angular, it was pale and smooth. The one blemish was a small mole just below the left side of her mouth. Icy, that’s what he thought, like an ice sculpture. Her manner was friendly though, a slight smile played around her mouth as they chatted. He was attracted to her and decided to ask her to go for a drink.
At the bar he asked her what she wanted? Vodka and tonic was her reply, no ice.
They sat and drank and chatted, he felt closer to her than anyone else he’d ever met. He held her hand and she smiled that quiet smile again.
Look I’ll give you a lift home he said. No problem, it’s on my way. She readily agreed.
As they pulled up outside her house he leaned towards her, a little peck on her cheek, it felt cold under his lips. He looked into her tranquil blue eyes. She took his face in her hands, directing her mouth towards him, pulling his face down, inwards. He felt the cold now, sharp, icy, his mouth was numb. The chill spread across his face, his head. Despite the heat he was freezing, shivering. The kiss continued until his eyes glazed over and he slumped forward.
Sorry hun, she said.
Imagine a game like curling that you play with stones on ice, but on a normal floor. That’s sliders, a curling game where the stones have ball bearings underneath them to allow them to glide across the floor You aim at a target with scores which go from 1 2 3 4 5 and 10.
Today I actually scored a 10, which is very unusual for us. Sometimes I can’t even reach the target as the bearings on the stones are starting to get worn out. We play a simple game where the highest score after an hour wins. Today there were 7 of us playing. It’s also good exercise as you are bending and stretching and walking backwards and forwards.
If you want a simple game to play at a community centre or village hall I would recommend it.
As we came out of choir group tonight it was cold and icy. The snow that had fallen earlier had turned from slush on the car park to hard ridges and furrows and ice.
I walked across to the car, managing not to slip. The car started reassuringly. The cold air from the heater took a few minutes to warm up. Then the screen started to demist. A car flew past in the dark. It’s headlights were not switched on so I flashed mine to try and get their attention.
I carefully drove off the car park and onto the road. Luckily it was wet but not slippery. The gritter lorries had clearly been past. Up to the traffic lights, turn right. Now I was on the main road, safe for a moment to drive at normal speed. But I live in a hill so I wanted to park up facing downhill. The only way to do that was to drive up the other side of the hill But I had a plan. Drive halfway up then take a short, flat, side road through the housing estate to get to my street half way down the hill. .. Well I got to the side road, and it was covered in a thick icy snowy layer. Solid, slippery. A steep slope to one side. I dropped into a lower gear. I did not want to slide across the road, on black ice. Keeping to the centre of the road, I drove at the slowest pace I could. Parked cars on either side made me fear hitting their wing mirrors. Nothing happened. My car slid and glided past, slowly and gently. My heart was thudding and I felt my neck tensing. Half way. A road bisecting my slippery route…. Anything coming fast up the hill and I would not have been able to stop safely. Now the road started to twist and turn. The slope increasingly downhill. The grip between the tyres and the asphalt was reducing. I applied the breaks gently. Close to the hill where I had to turn down onto my street. Nothing coming. The snow transformed into moisture, salted and defrosted. Slow turn. Almost in slow motion. It was too dark to see any frosty patches. So I carefully drove down hill in first gear. I got home slightly shaken.
I got my partner to read this. He said “it’s a bit boring” which is honest.
Ice like feathers,
ice like blood,
ice poured over the bonnet of a car.
Jack Frosts finger nails have skittered across
Leaving their trail of frozen air.
Ice leaps over
ice slips on,
Ice is strong till it is fractured.
Warm air makes ice wet, clammy, then it melts.
Jack Frost,
Dream maker,
gone.
It was about 5 years ago when we were on holiday in Devon. We had arrived at the camp site late in the evening after a leisurely drive down from the Midlands.
As the Sun started to set we walked down through the dunes to the beach. My eye was taken by a pillar of sunlight shining from below the horizon where the Sun had just set. I have seen sundogs before (reflections off clouds on either side of and above the Sun that look like tiny parts of rainbows). But I did not know what this was. Luckily I had my camera with me and snapped these shots.
I later found out this was a sun pillar, caused by the sun reflecting off high icy clouds. I’ve never seen another one.
