Making something of nothing

Times are, as ever, hard in Crone-World.

Look, OK, I'm not like starving or wearing literal rags or suffering from a terminal illness or chronic pain. Nor am I exactly unemployed. Nor am I friendless. Or purposeless. No one I love is currently actually dying (as far as I know) and I have a roof over my head and really rather nice tiles beneath my feet.

But I have nothing to take pictures of. The birds sing and warn and flutter about but are completely unwilling to participate in any kind of photography session. Then I am anxious about carrying the camera while I trot, so that reduces the opportunities further. Even when I do have it with me, I just feel uninspired.

This is sad.

So I resorted to desperation. Photos of things against other things.

In addition, the painting has been a tiny bit disappointing. the previous effort was a very nice piece despite the head being too small and too high. The current one is close to being scribbled over.

And I am writing my fox thing but utterly convinced that it's crap and to make it good would take an effort of will of which I appear at present incapable.

Then there's cookery. I made my famous "orange soup". Not so called because it uses oranges: it does not, though lemons play a not insignificant role. Instead it's the carrots and red lentils which make it orange. But this time it is not orange because the heritage carrots were purple. And oddly that seems to have bleached the orangey-ness out of the lentils.

It is all sub-optimal.