Or Odds and Sods
My father kept a drawer full of junk in our old brick lined scullery at home in Westcott Place, a collection of odds and ends (less euphemistically, junk). This drawer has become iconic in my mind, defining him, forming me and evoking feelings akin to veneration. I shall explore this wonderful, magic drawer elsewhere but I mention it here because it serves to introduce the general idea of gallimaufry.
Whatever seems not to have found a natural home elsewhere in this volume will find itself in here. I have a natural inclination to operate mainly up one those tangents that fly off of from life’s roundabout. Off I will flutter, I nearly used the word soar but that would be over doing it, enthusiastically fired up by some spark which has set off in my imagination, often up a blind alleyway, on yet another new interest or endeavor invariably confident that I am about to become master of or expert in it. So that the most serious and enduring of these excursions do not feel left out of my story I have made a space for them here. Publishing recipes for my modest efforts to cook without gluten is one of them. Another to follow eventually will be on the subject of wood turning. I restored my father’s lathe, rapidly disappeared up another tangent and it is now my intention to become proficient at turning wood and present my results here.
There will be others as time and opportunity permit.
There will be others. I shall return.