sandlewood and jasmine

I'd been deserted yesterday evening, in favour of one of those award shows in the West End. Tickets only and I didn't have one.

In truth I was a bit achey anyway from my afternoon cycling, and as I write this on Monday I can feel even more creaks based on my extra cycling session this afternoon.

I'd just settled down to some supper, a mug of tea and the last episode of House of Cards, when everything was plunged into darkness.

I could only see the meal in front of me by the glow from the fire.

Then I looked around outside and could see that the houses opposite and behind us still had power, but our side for the road and all the way back to the main road was in darkness.

Time to locate a torch, using the iPhone as an improvised light.

Then to find some candles, one of which didn't have a proper wick. I improvised with a match and soon had fragrant scented candles and what turned into a fireside acoustic guitar evening. Excuse my lack of coolness for putting the dubious candle into a baking tray as a safety measure.

Of course by one 'o clock in the morning when the awards revellers returned, it was back to normal.

"...Have you been burning joss sticks?"