A morning of truancy

I'm playing truant this morning. In theory I'm doing the ironing, but somehow it's already got to 11.45am & I've not even got started. I feel it's too late now.

So where has the morning gone? Well, I had a look at the chicken we're going to roast this afternoon & tidied it up a bit. Then I got onto the phone.

First I spoke to Nan. Her husband, Big B, has not been down to the Pub once this year. This is very unusual. He usually comes a similar time Monday-Friday. He has Alzheimer's & prostrate cancer, so we feared his health may have got worse. But no. All is well. There's just been so many colds & viruses around this winter, they decided there was no point in taking chances. As the spring arrives, & some better weather comes, we should once more see him walking down the hill to the Pub.

The next call was to MK & Helen, his wife. We've not been to see them this week, partially because we've been so busy with kitchen people, & partially because MK has caught another virus. He's beginning to feel the antibiotics are kicking in, so hopefully we'll get over some time soon.

By the time I'd got the potatoes peeled & par-boiled for the roast potatoes for dinner, I looked at the clock & saw it was already 11.30. The pile of ironing remains in the laundry room untouched. There's a big pile & it seems too late to get started. So here I am.

Next I'm going to adjourn to my current jigsaw, "Chinese Wisteria". It's the last of my Xmas presents to try. It's quite a challenge as it seems to be nothing but purply blue flowers. The only more solid thing is the footpath that wends its way under the pergola so bedecked with flowers. Even the flowers by the side of the path at the foot of the uprights are bluebells just to continue the colour theme.

A feather ball

The fat ball hangs from the archway from the patio area to the lawn. We look out from the kitchen. It is virtually impossible to see the ball itself. It is covered by a mass of feathers. Half a dozen coal tits are feeding. (Quite a contrast with the 2 I reported for the Birdwatch last weekend.) They take to wing as a couple of starlings arrive on the scene. When they in turn fly off, the tits return. Our hearts are filled with warmth & joy.

No giraffes

I thought I'd just have a quick write. I'm in the midst of making a chicken & vegetable pie for dinner. The filling is just cooling down before I put it into its pastry case. That should make it nice & easy this evening. Hopefully today's kitchen designer isn't about to spend quite so long with us, but you never know.

Yesterday we were at the Pub. It was a good turn out. Much humorous speculation was caused when Fran told us about an ad she'd read in a magazine. "Holiday cottage to let......Pets welcome, but no giraffes." Who would take a giraffe on holiday? How would you get in the car or on the bus? Who would even have a pet giraffe? Had someone turned up with their pet giraffe which was why the cottage owner was so anxious to preclude giraffes? How would you get a giraffe in a house with average height ceilings? The various scenarios we produced had has all guffawing away. A real tonic for the spirits.

Psychic

I think I must be going psychic. Yesterday the kitchen man did indeed turn up. I thought I must have written the appointment in wrong, as I suspected yesterday. But guess when we are due to go in to see & discuss the resulting design? That's right. Tuesday the 10th of Feb in the afternoon. I didn't even have to enter it in the diary, just add the street name for their private parking space.

Meanwhile, today, I'm feeling shattered. This is partially the after-effects of taking a sleeping pill last night. Having spent more than 3 hours listening to the radio in bed, feeling increasingly hot & pain-filled, I decided that was the only way I was going to sleep. This seeing people about the kitchen is very stressful & physically exhausting for me. I keep getting up to get out of the way, or to show how I use my perch/stool when preparing & cooking food. We have one more man due tomorrow, then, hopefully, a break before we take the next step on the way to a new kitchen & see the results of all this measuring. I need the break. I have a suspicion I'm going to be in need of a week or two recovery time before finally deciding on any of the designs that are produced.

Flight overhead

I was in the laundry room, seeing what washing had dried overnight when I heard a great honking. I hastily looked out. Wave after wave of geese flew overhead. About 8 great Vs of them in all. A couple of hundred geese at least. They were flying west. In view of the fact it's not migration time, I would guess they're off to their Morecambe Bay feeding grounds, to return to their sleeping grounds more inland, probably at Martinmere, this evening. We've certainly heard numerous geese flying overhead, even if it's been too dark to see them.

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I think I'm going slowly bonkers. Yesterday I arranged for one of the kitchen companies to come to measure up & design our new kitchen. This morning I look in the diary & see I wrote the appointment in on Feb 10th, a fortnight's time. Now I'm left wondering. Are they coming today & I put the appointment in the diary wrong, or are they indeed coming next month? I know, just before, I had made another appointment which was for the 9th, so did I put the kitchen visit on Tuesday, the day after without checking which page the week-to-view diary was open at? As I say, I'm going nuts. We'll find out this afternoon.

Confessions of a tea addict

I'm feeling a bit out of step this morning. Last night was my first night of taking pills during the night. This happens for a fortnight every 3 months. With these pills it is important not to have anything to eat or drink 2 hours before & 2 hours after the pill except water. Unfortunately I forgot about the pill. So although I got up about 2ish to go to the loo, I forgot to take the pill whilst I was awake. The Fox, too, forgot. Eventually he reminded me about 7am this morning, which means I can't have so much as a sup of tea until 9. I tried to sleep on but couldn't, so I got up. I thought I could get the curry made for dinner then have my tea, but I just can't get myself going without my caffeine kick start to the day. I certainly don't feel safe to tackle something as demanding as cooking, so here I am instead. At least blogging I feel I can remedy if I do anything wrong. Cooking involves sharp knives to cut myself with, hot pans to spill over me & live gas flames to set myself on flames. For that I need TEA first!

Having done this, while I wait for 9am to arrive, I shall play a bit of mahjong. Then tea & a vegetable curry to make.

The birdwatch

Well I've done my birdwatch. Some changes have inevitably happened since I did it last year. I'm not sorry to see the disappearance of most of the feral pigeons - we were inundated with them when we first arrived. I'm sadder to see this year there seems to be fewer sparrows & great tits. But equally we have some new faces, eg a pair of greenfinches, & the return of some who've not been around for a few years like the little wren with its jaunty stick up tail. Above all I'm pleased with the steady growth in blackbirds. When we first moved here I was shocked by the absence of any blackbirds or thrushes, but my abolition of slug pellets & a bit of healthy neglect seems to have encouraged them to move in. These days we also seem to have gained gulls. This is largely because the tip a mile or so away has now been largely filled in & has started to be landscaped, so they're having to find new feeding places. I find it all very interesting & a reflection of the health of the garden. Now I've only got to send my results off to the RSPB.

A Politician

As I make the cottage pie (using some left over roast beef) for today's dinner, I listen to "Desert Island Discs" on Radio 4. The guest today is Vince Cable. This is a politician who never really impinged on my consciousness until fairly recently. I gather he is on the shortlist for Channel 4's Politician of the Year award. He's obviously impinging on other people's consciousness this year too.

Everything I've heard about him impresses me. He's clearly a very family orientated man. It's noticeable that all the records he wanted to take had family associations, from his father singing in the choir of York Minster to his son & daughter-in-law singing Mozart's "Don Giovanni". Even the book he chose to take was Stephen Hawking's "A Brief History of Time" . This was so that he could use his time on the island to get to grips with the maths & science involved so he could talk to his younger son, a mathematician, on a more informed level. (I couldn't help thinking of the TV programme, "Numb3rs", where I'm sure Charlie's family have no idea what he's talking about half the time.) He strikes me as a man of intelligence, compassion, honesty & a certain amount of courage. I can't help thinking it's a pity that I can't say that for more of our politicians!

It's all go

Time for a tea break. It's been a busy morning. So far I've done the hand washing. I admit these days I tend to check before buying whether things need washing by hand or not. I tend to avoid buying anything that says to wash by hand only. But that doesn't alter the fact I still have a lot of older clothes - woollens, even the odd bit of silk - that require washing by hand. It's now done for another few months.

My next job is to turn my attention to the dinner. The Fox is going to have a go at making a rich beef casserole for today. The amount of red wine wine going in should make something quite delicious. My job is sous-chef. This means peeling the potatoes & sprouts that will accompany the casserole.

Then, come lunchtime we're off to the Farmer's Market where I'm hoping to get some meat - some pork to roast on Saturday, some gammon, maybe even some veal. What we don't use immediately will be going in the freezer for the month ahead.

It's just as well I slept virtually 12 hours last night!

Big Garden Birdwatch

I was pleased to discover yesterday that this weekend is the weekend of the RSPB Big Garden Birdwatch. I always enjoy taking part in this. I hope the weather is a bit better than last year. Then it was very stormy so most of our birds hid away. All you have to do is spend an hour sometime over the weekend, counting the birds in your garden. You only count the birds you can see at any one time, as often a single bird flits in & out of your view & the same bird would otherwise be counted multiple times. There's no need to count birds flying overhead, just those that settle on the ground or in trees. The results are then sent to the RSPB. Easy.

Usually I sit in the warmth, behind the window of our kitchen door. Binoculars at the ready. A pad of paper & a pen on the work surface next to me. Before I begin, I usually list our regular visitors so I just have to note the numbers as I count the birds. I always keep a bird book next to the pad in case some stranger arrives whose species I don't recognise. It makes a very pleasant interlude, whilst feeling that you are doing something positive to help the RSPB in its work.

Miracle workers

Today Obama is made President of the United States of America. So many hopes seem to be pinned on this man. I have difficulty in imagining he is going to be able to solve all the world's problems. In the last week I've heard how he's going to fix the world's economic problems, solve the Israel/Palestine troubles, end the wars in Afghanistan & Iraq, make life so much easier & fairer for black people & women. In fact just about everything. Surely this is expecting too much of any one person.

I will admit even I can't help feeling a bit of hope. At last we seem to have a man of great intelligence & vitality, a man who doesn't holds grudges, a magnificent orator, a man with vision who looks outside of the United States. And that's quite a relief after Bush. But I don't believe in people who can just wave a magic wand & abracadabra, the world's ills are solved.

Last night we watched the first part of the Channel 4 programme, "Big Chef Takes On Little Chef", in which Heston Blumenthal is given the task of solving the problems of the Little Chef restaurant chain. Much as I am dubious about some of his culinary experiments, & some of the portion sizes at his own restaurant seem ludicrously small, I did end up feeling that he was being asked to do the impossible with his hands tied behind his back. How anyone can hope to turn a restaurant's fortunes around without knowing their gross profit margins I don't know. I can understand Little Chef not wanting to publicise these details on the TV, but surely they could at least tell him off camera. He's told to "think outside the box", "do some blue skies thinking", bring back the excitement that was Little Chef. Yet the moment he tries anything really different, it's too radical, but if he goes traditional, it's regarded as no better than what they already offer. He just can't win. We'll see if things get easier for him as the week goes on.

Personally I think they would have been better off employing a more traditional chef like Brian Turner for the job. To my mind Little Chef is about good solid British fare at reasonable prices but with some flavour. The only food we've recently appreciated at a Little Chef has been simply griddled fish with new potatoes. I also appreciated being offered a choice of salad dressings with a salad once. Food needs to be quick & flavoursome. Most Little Chefs are the sort of place you stop for a quick bite at as you break a long journey rather than a restaurant you go out of your way for as a special culinary treat.

I can but say I wish both miracle workers the best. If either achieve a fraction of the expectations put upon them, they will have done well.

Uninspired

The greyness of the day is not very inspiring. It doesn't encourage me to feel much zip. I've got the beef curry made for dinner & now I turn my mind to non-chore items. I sit here to write my blog & find my mind curiously devoid of thought. This doesn't often happen to me. My usual difficulty is trying to whittle down the ideas to just one or two topics. Maybe I'm just a bit tired. All that jubilation yesterday was quite taxing, though I'm still rejoicing in hearing from Dot & Margo. This afternoon we were intending to look at more kitchens but when it is as wet as it is becoming, I'm not sure we'll bother. You can get remarkably wet in a wheelchair. I've tried phoning friends but they seem to be having problems too. MK, our friend with Motor Neurone Disease, is going through a falling spell which is getting to him a bit. PD, who suffers with depression, has got himself so worked up that he can't face seeing people other than his family. His only joy in life at the moment are the visits of his young grandchildren. None of this brought much sun into my life.

My one consolation is that I'm not actually getting myself depressed. I may feel a bit lacklustre, but everyone does that at times, but I'm not feeling black, not questioning my worth, so that is good. Maybe I should get back to contemplating that holiday in the Far East & look at hotels in Singapore. Maybe that will give me a bit of zip. Or start a new jigsaw.....Maybe what I really need is a bit of sunshine.

An unexpected call

The view of Sydney from North Head

Dot at Dee Why

I'm late up this morning. It's already 9am. I'm just in the midst of getting changed. The phone rings. I hastily hobble out, grabbing my perch stool as I pass to sit down on. A strange voice asks if it's me. It turns out that it's a call from Australia!

When we visited Australia a few years ago, we'd done so in order to visit an old family friend, Nesta. While we were there we met her friends, Dot & Margo. Nesta unfortunately died last March. Dot rang to let us know. This Christmas we hesitantly sent a Xmas card to Dot & Margo. We weren't sure of their surnames, so we sent the card to Dot & Margo, friends of Nesta. We knew they lived in the same sheltered housing block, so even if we didn't know their flat numbers we just hoped the card would arrive. It did. This was them ringing to thank us & invite us to visit them if we're ever in Sydney again. It was lovely to hear from them. Margo's intending to write sometime soon.

We have warm memories of meeting them. Over the years Nesta had often written about them. When we went to visit Nesta in her home, we had a picnic lunch in the garden of the complex. Dot & Margo came too. A pleasant meal was had.

Later on during that holiday, Dot, the only driver & car owner, took Nesta & us out for a drive one afternoon. We had a fabulous time driving through the northern suburbs of Sydney, following the coastline as much as possible. We stopped for lunch at Dee Why & stopped at North Head, near Manly, to see the magnificent of view of Sydney Harbour & city centre before we were taken back to our hotel. It was a great day that will long remain in our memories.

It seems Dot & Margo, too, have such fond memories & are keen to keep up an acquaintanceship that may blossom into a friendship. It was good to hear from them, even if I did feel a bit of a fool with only one leg in my tights & no skirt on. At least, I'd got as far as a jumper so I was warm enough. Ever since, all morning, I've been going around with a song of joy in my heart.

Mosque visiting

I've switched off "Excess Baggage" on Radio 4. I made the effort to listen as it was partially about the pleasure of visiting mosques. I've never been to a mosque, but I'm anticipating maybe visiting one if we ever get on this holiday to the Far East. Brunei is a Muslim country. Bandar Seri Begawan, called locally BSB for obvious reasons, is the capital of this small country. The city is dominated by the Omar Ali Saifuddien Mosque. It sounds fabulous, an outstanding example of Islamic art. Certainly the exterior looks breathtaking with its circular lagoon surrounding it and its huge golden dome. It's reassuring to hear that non-Muslims are very welcome to visit. I shall make sure I take appropriate modest attire with me when we go on this holiday so as not to insult worshippers.

A very determined bird

Mrs Blackbird is on her marks this morning. I venture out into the garden with the bacon rinds from yesterday's floddies (see the Fox's blog). I'm barely in the house when she appears ready for breakfast. She hastily flies to & fro with the smaller bits before the others, especially the gulls, appear on the scene. Soon she's left with one larger bit, long & thin like a worm. It's obviously a bit heavy for her. Every time she tries to take off the fat falls from her beak. But she is not to be defeated. She steadily drags it to the large pots further along the stoop. She goes backwards so she can keep an eye open for any rivals for the tasty morsel. Eventually she's fairly hidden between the pots of hostas. She then gorges herself in peace.

The kitchen hunt

We go off to town to look at kitchens. We need a new one. Ours is steadily disintegrating. We've decided to abandon the conservatory/extension idea - too expensive. We also wonder if we really need the extra space. A well designed kitchen will probably solve the problems. We may think of a veranda or something later, but that's not urgent. The kitchen is.

We go round two showrooms. We seem to be faced between a choice of high gloss, quite sterile looking, modernity, or a more traditional wooden look which may be harder to keep clean. We're having a day off to mull over our thoughts. Undoubtedly, if our kitchen was just a place to cook, I would go for ultramodern. For me a kitchen is a workplace. Hygiene is essential & should be achievable with the minimum of effort. However, our kitchen is also our dining area. We enjoy relaxing over our meals, spending time just talking or watching the antics of the birds in the garden. We spend most of our daytime hours at home sat here. I'm not sure how relaxing I find the idea of all that gloss & stainless steel. There is something more warming & welcoming with wood. More conducive to relaxing. Just plain, more human.

Certainly the Fox feels more at home surrounded by wood. For him, the kitchen is the heart of the home, not a domestic lab. The property dates from the 1930s & somehow wood seems more consistent. We've a few more places to look at before we start inviting people to the house to produce some designs. I wonder what we will finally decide on.

The need for privacy & curtains

There is much disgruntlement in the Pub yesterday. It covered a range of niggles including this one.

"It's like sitting in a goldfish bowl," moans Mr P. Some time ago the curtains were taken down in the bar. Some new material appeared across the top of the windows but that's it. We've waited ever since for the matching curtains to arrive. Indeed we were promised them for the new year, but clearly 2009 isn't the new year meant. There's certainly no sign of them.

I have to confess I've long thought looking at the bare windows is cold & unwelcoming, not characteristics you want to encourage in a bar. Lack of curtains is fine in an office or gym, for example, but not somewhere you want to relax. It's one of the things that irritates us a bit in France. They tend to use shutters & so often don't bother with curtains. But curtains soften the look of the room to my mind, making them more relaxing.

The only rooms I'm prepared to consider not putting curtains in when it comes to our own home are the kitchen & bathroom, the latter because of the damp & the smallness of the window, the former because of the difficulty of keeping them clean in the greasy atmosphere. We may have blinds in the other rooms but they are in addition to the curtains, not instead of, to block out strong, low, blinding sunlight & to stop people looking in. We like our privacy & the front of the house is near the pavement.

I'd never really thought of it before but I can see Mr P's point. We don't live in the village the Pub is in so the only people who know us are fellow Pub goers, but for Mr P it's a different matter. Not only does he live in the village so is locally well-known, he's also a teacher. As people pass, on these dark nights when inevitably the lit bar is easy to see, indeed is eye attracting, everyone can see how often & when he is in the Pub. This includes his students & their parents.

Now, there's nothing wrong with Mr P being in a Pub. Indeed he needs somewhere to unwind from the stresses of teaching before taking on the stresses of his home life, with a wife who has had ME for many years & a mother who had a stroke a year ago & is now hardly able to recognise him, let alone acknowledge him, when he visits her. He's always good company & rarely drinks to excess. But you never know what others looking on may think. Some people can get very moralistic about such behaviour. I can't blame him for not wanting to be lit up in this way. I suspect he's not the only one with such feelings. The numbers at the bar seem to have reduced drastically in these winter months. As a result he can't even hide in the crowd.

And all this for the sake of some curtains!

A plea for peace

Saturday's programme, "A History of Scotland", which I wrote about yesterday, prompted some more serious thoughts, questions I don't know the answers to. The history of Scotland, like that in most places at the time, was violent & brutal. Babies were slaughtered for political gain, people skinned alive etc. I accept this happened in times past.

What I have difficulty is in understanding how mankind has failed to improve his ways in the intervening centuries. I watch night after night as Israel bombs Gaza. The Palestinians are virtually besieged without food, water, fuel, medical facilities. Israel may have been bombed first - I don't know sufficiently to make any real judgement on the question - but that is no defence for the inevitable injury to innocent citizens. Equally I hear that rape, even of babies, is regarded as a tool of war in parts of Africa these days. Not so long ago, in Rwanda & the former Yugoslavia, genocide once more reared its ugly head. Torture still goes on. It may be more sophisticated but it is still torture.

How can this be? This is the 21st century. Surely man is capable of better, of evolving into a more humane being for whom verbal negotiation could solve problems, rather than such atrocities. It's bad enough that so many die from natural disasters of floods, droughts, hurricanes, tsunamis, volcanoes, earthquakes etc without mankind himself adding further to the maiming & death toll. It's time we gave peace, tolerance & living in harmony with one another a try.

Feathered visitors

Yesterday I put out the leftover skin & stuffing from Sat's roast turkey. Soon a huge black-backed gull appeared & most of the turkey disappeared. As the gull flew off, a small brown face peered round the corner of the garage to see if it was safe to venture on the scene. Seeing all was clear, the robin came round, happy to discover the nutty, cheesy stuffing was still there. He had his fill before flying off. The next to arrive was a blackbird. By the afternoon, it was time to put out second helpings. They soon disappeared too.

This morning, the robin was on the garage stoop, eagerly looking for food to find none. I hastily put out the last of the turkey leftovers plus some cheese rind. Herring gulls arrived this time, but only after the blackbird & robin had helped themselves.

Fact & fiction

I see the Fox has recently been inspired to reminisce about Vancouver. My holiday memories lately have been of much earlier holidays. On Saturday night, we watched "A Short History of Scotland" on BBC2. It was interesting to hear the tale of Anglo Scottish rivalry from the Scottish side, even introduced by a Scot. My knowledge of Scottish history is limited, usually seen through English eyes. Of Alexander II I knew nothing. However, I knew much about William Wallace long before Mel Gibson's film "Braveheart". The source for me was Nigel Tranter's novel on the man. It was a source of deep disappointment for me when we went to Scotland & passed through Ettrick Forest. In the novel, & I suspect it probably was so in Wallace's time, the forest was great. Wallace is described as a tall man, tall enough to carry a broadsword on his back without tripping over. This man was able to hide behind the trees of the forest. By the time we got there, the only trees were saplings, barely a foot tall, hardly enough to hide a child, let along a man of great stature like William Wallace.

The programme also referred to the dispute over kingship which Edward I of England resolved by appointing John Balliol king, rather than Robert Bruce. All this had been brought to life to me by Tranter's Bruce trilogy. So much of my knowledge of Scottish history is coloured by Tranter's historical fiction. When we went to North Berwick we were surprised to discover that it was Tranter's home town. Although I accept that he undoubtedly took a certain amount of poetic licence, I always had the impression that he always tried to keep to the historic facts as much as possible, even sometimes at the expense of the narrative.

So it was with Tranter's works in mind, we visited St Andrews. Our visit to Edinburgh castle was recalled when later reading his novel about deciding on Edinburgh as the capital of Scotland & the building of the castle there.

All these memories came flooding back as the programme went on. I was also reminded just how beautiful a country Scotland is. It's high time we went again. I'd love to see Linlithgow & Stirling castles, though these days I could no longer get round much of them.

Christmas is back

Christmas is back again. I'm in the midst of roasting a turkey for dinner. The potatoes are parboiled, the sprouts peeled, the stuffing par-cooked & cooling. Come the afternoon, it will be all go.

It may seem over the top to have a second turkey. I suspect it's a reflection of how much we missed our turkey last year as we spent the holiday period in St Lucia. So far we've only had roast turkey early in December when I roasted the other bird, & on Christmas Day. All the leftovers were put in little bags & then into the freezer for later in the year. I will do the same again. Over the year we should then have plenty left for turkey quiches, curries, croquettes, rarebits etc. Delicious.

Morecambe Bay

As we drove along the promenade to the Pub, I couldn't help but notice the beauty of the scene before me. Yesterday, in the morning, it had been grey & overcast. In the afternoon, the skies cleared & turned blue. It was still hazy across the Bay, though ghostly shapes of the land there could just about be discerned. The tide was out, so vast stretches of wet sand filled the intervening land. The sand & the rocks of the sea defences had taken on a pinkish hue, though quite why I have no idea. It was still far too early for sunset. All seemed serene & peaceful, so quiet. It quite took my breath away.

Too my mind one of the joys of living by the sea is its ever changing nature. You never quite know what you will find. Sometimes grim & black. Sometimes rough & threatening. Sometimes reflecting blue skies in millpond still water. Here the views change dramatically as the tides come & go. The Bay fills rapidly. Indeed at Arnside, as the Kent enters the Bay, there is an impressive bore tide, where the estuary goes from a dribble of water to being full as a tidal wave sweeps up the estuary. The land on the other side appears & disappears, sometimes crisply sharp, others just a haze of mist. As I say, you never quite know what you'll find, but it rarely fails to amaze, & often stuns.

Beef Wellington

This is my first attempt at writing my blog on the laptop. And very peculiar it feels too. I expect I will get used to it.

After the Fox's culinary success last night (it was amazing the way the lemonade flavoured the mushrooms rather than the other way around), I'm now in the midst of my go at experimental cooking. I'm making a beef Wellington. The beef is par-roasted, the mushroom duxelle cooked & cooling. I'm still waiting for my puff pastry to thaw sufficiently for me to roll.

I'm with Jamie Oliver on puff pastry. It's not that I can't make my own puff pastry, but it does seem too much hassle when you can buy some perfectly acceptable ready made pastry. Shortcrust I always make my own, a variation on the family recipe, but puff & flaky is another matter.

I've got a 2000 vintage bottle of red Bordeaux wine out to warm up to accompany the beef. We're not on the whole very excited by clarets - we much prefer Chateauneuf any day - but if ever there was a meal a claret should compliment it is beef Wellington.

Impact of change

We're back to more normal weather - rain. I've just been talking to Helen & discovered they've got snow. Admittedly we did see some sleet coming down last night but there's no sign of it today. Instead we've started another lake in our garden. The ground is so frozen solid I suspect it's not absorbing the water well. We had intended to go into Lancaster today to look at kitchens. Ours needs replacing desperately but we've decided to put it off until another day when the weather's better. Instead the Fox is going to have a go at making a chicken casserole for dinner.

One thing about our decision not to go to the Pub so often is that we have time to do things like making casseroles in the afternoon. Admittedly we may still go to our local village pub but that doesn't take so long as it is considerably nearer to go to. We'll certainly have to go to the doctors' this afternoon to collect our prescriptions & that's in the direction of the village pub, not the Pub.

Our decision not to go so often gets baleful looks & moans from Little B. He needs regularity & certainty in life. It gives a stabiliity & shape to his life which he finds reassuring. But as the Fox said in his blog, the time has come to put our needs before other people's.

What Little B doesn't seem to realise is the adherence to such strict routine is the very thing I find so stressful. I find it constraining.

My childhood was regimented. You could tell the time of the day from the time of meals, even cups of tea & toilet visits. The day of the week was told by what was ate. You always had the same food on the same day of the week - no variety. My reaction is to get as far away as possible from such a straight jacket. Yes, we do have some routines. Church is on Sunday, along with the cleaning & bed changing. Meals are roughly the same time of day each day, but that's it. The rest of the time we do what we want when we want. Total flexibility, constrained only by our physical needs & scope of our imagination.

The world outside is whiter than ever. I looked at the thermometer on the shed at 8.30 this morning. -15. Hardly surprising everything is so white. Soon I'm putting out a few cranberries left over from Christmas & some cheese rind onto the stoop. I return inside into the warmth. As I turn to lock the door behind me, I see Mr Robin has already arrived, ready to tackle the cheese. He really loves it.

Then I turn to warming us up. Despite doing a big shop yesterday, we're still having everyday sort of food. Today is going to be pasties. I've just switched the oven off having made & baked them, so they will only need warming up this evening. The idea of a plateful of wholegrain mustard mash (a speciality of the Fox), a piping hot pasty, a few sprouts & lashings of gravy appeals - warm & filling comfort food. I've also brought a bottle of red wine across from the garage to warm up in time for dinner. It seems to take all day to warm up, it's so cold across the way.

Back to normal

The Christmas tree is down. We usually wait until the 6th but this year we couldn't wait. With my cold it has been a very long Christmas & we just want it over, and to get back to normality. With this in mind we're off to the supermarket this afternoon for our first big shop of the year. I'm sure the novelty will soon wear off, but just at the moment normality appeals. The last few days we've enjoyed indulging in the normality of shepherd's pie & spag bol. Time to move on to new horizons.

I suppose part of my eagerness to take down the tree is that it has been standing on the table, surrounded by cards, that I usually use for my jigsaws. As a result I've spent the time from Xmas looking at a pile of new jigsaws - the Fox bought me 5 as presents - unable to get started on them. You can guess what I'm going to do next. I think I will start by going off to Southend in the 50s......

Life's litle joys

The end is in sight. My cold is finally at the one or two tissues per day stage. Similarly one or two coughs per day. I can once more sleep in a horizontal position, no longer propped up on a mound of pillows as otherwise I would spend the night constantly having to sit up to blow my nose. The real joy is that I'm once more welcome on the settee, next to the Fox.

Whenever we go down with colds we try to avoid much physical contact, sitting apart, faces averted so we don't breathe over each other, trying to avoid spreading germs from one to the other. When we were first married, we didn't adopt such a strategy & seemed to get colds that lasted for months as we passed it from one to the other & back again. At least this way, one of us sometimes manages to avoid the problem &, with a bit of luck, the one who does have it only gets it the once.

So it was with great joy, after dinner, that I sat next to the Fox on the settee. We watched a bit of TV, with me leaning against the Fox. Then later we switched off, opened a bottle of champers to celebrate the return to almost normality, put on some Miles Davis. I sat at the other end of the settee, facing the Fox, my feet on his lap where the Fox lovingly caressed them. Sheer bliss! Soon we'll return to the kissing stage & all will be well again.

Similarly come the night, in bed, my head happily found the hollow in the Fox's shoulder where it usually lies. I made sure I breathed downwards to his feet, but it was great to be in his arms once more - a place of tremendous warmth & security. I always feel nothing can go wrong if I'm there.

Signs of improvement

I've had a frustrating morning trying to sign on to write this blog. For some reason Google has refused to recognise my password. It's only now, after going away for a while that I've finally got on, typing in exactly what I typed in before! Now that's off my chest, I'll get down to writing the real subject matter of the blog.

We ventured out yesterday in search of milk. As we entered the mini supermarket I was stopped by the smell of bread. The first thing I'd smelt for days, almost weeks. I can only assume the bread was freshly baked & had just been delivered. It was intoxicating. Sheer heaven.

Later on, after dinner, the Fox blew out the Christmas candle we'd lit on the table. Even though my back was to it, I could smell the smoke. I'm finally beginning to think I'm getting back to normal. I'm still coughing & blowing, but at least I can SMELL!

Happy New Year

Happy New Year to you all. We're back. We've been off-line for over a week - a disadvantage of changing ISP over the holidays, but now we're back & hopefully all our recent glitches will settle down.

It's a beautiful morning to start the new year on. -13. The world is white. When the Fox went to find the champagne to see the new year in, he discovered it was snowing. A thin covering of ice/snow covers everything now. You can see where visitors have been. Grey snakes appear on the road surface as the tarmac peeps through the white where cars have gone. The robin appeared very rapidly when I put a little bit of lamb fat out from yesterday's meal. The frozen world is obviously making food hunting hard for him.

I'm still blowing & coughing from what I hope will be my first & last cold for 2009. Everyone says the cold that's going around here lasts a fortnight so hopefully once I'm through the weekend I'll be well on the mend. Meanwhile it is a bore, not helped by getting a bit worse yesterday.

I find it disorientating looking at our new calendar. We were somewhat surprised to receive a calendar from our travel agent this year. So it is now we're basking on a beach on Hawaii. Quite a contrast with what's outside the window!

Now we're back on-line, I'm hoping to get down to sorting out our Far Eastern holiday, to decide on hotels. But first, I'm going to get on the phone to Den. He had to go into hospital yesterday for an op on his ear. He wasn't looking forward to it. I do hope all has gone well. Last time he had one done on his ear, he was very uncomfortable. He found sleeping very difficult as whenever he turned over onto that ear it gushed blood as well as hurt.