BURNT CARROTS BY DONNA ASHWORTH
I love imperfectly decorated trees, with mismatched trinkets that tell a story of the past. I treasure last-minute gatherings, with food rustled up from nowhere, It's always ‘just enough'. I see the beauty in gifts handed over with words of ‘oh it’s nothing', for that simply means the giver cannot begin to convey how they really feel. I value the quiet moments when the lights twinkle and the raucous moments, when the laughter fills the room. And I can't get enough of burnt carrots, forgotten stuffing and failed attempts at desert. Because my friends that's where the love lives, In the messy. In the real. Love is in the burnt carrots. Look for it.
HOLA SOBER | MADRID
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