Further impressions

We don't seem to be getting very far from Pompei, mainly because we're having difficulty with the driving around here - for the problems see the Fox's blog. We did try to get to Castelmarre di Stabia to get totally lost. We did discover Pompei's out of town supermarket. We decided to get some bottles of water & some wine. We returned to discover some vandal had scratched right along our hire car. There goes our 600 euro deposit!

A trip to Salerno did actually find us there, but unable to find a parking space. It looked beautiful with a long, flat promenade, the lungo mare, along the Mediterranean Sea. We're thinking we might try again sometime midweek.

We have now made various discoveries. Disabled parking spaces are delineated in yellow/orange, the colour of Italian disabled badges. That should make finding parking easier.

Lacrima Christi wine, a grape only grown on the lower levels of Vesuvius, is delicious. It's slightly more expensive than some but still reasonable compared to English prices. Definitely something we will look out for when we return home. It comes in red, white or rosé.

We've also found a very good restaurant just around the corner from the hotel. We keep surprising the waiter by choosing items that are on the Italian version of the menu, but not on the English. The spaghetti con vongole (with baby clams) was delicious. Yesterday we both tried the risotto con funghi porcinini - obviously the Italians share the French opinion that the English don't eat mushrooms so there's no need to translate - & shared our first real Italian pizza, quite unlike those you get in England. Even the bread is different, made with olive oil & baked in special wood-fired ovens. As for the tomatoes, they have an intensity of flavour never experienced in England.

We've splashed out on an extra map, which hopefully means we stand a chance of getting where we want to. I wouldn't guarantee that when few roads have road signs or directions. I just hope we will be able to find Naples airport before the plane takes off when it comes time to return home. We're intending to allow plenty of time for that trip.

We've also bought a dictionary. The phrase book is not sufficient. Contrary to what the guidebooks say few people in Pompei speak English so we need some extra words. But then the town itself is not an obvious tourist place. Most visitors prefer to stay in Sorrento, on the Amalfi coast or in Naples itself.

We're also struck by the level of poverty there is in the area. The roads are in bad repair. Much of the housing is uninspiring concrete blocks of flats. And yet some things are expensive. We've met one English couple whose bags got left behind at Manchester airport. They had to do some hasty clothes shopping to find a T-shirt could cost 250 euros! They were relieved to find a cheaper sports shop but even so it was nearer £25 for a basic T-shirt. Their joy when their suitcases caught up with them was all too apparent.

The adventure continues.

Arrival & first impressions

We've made it, though I'm already wondering if I'll manage to write anything comprehensible on this ancient keyboard. It certainly isn't suitable for touch-typing & the layout is quite different to the British one. I'll persevere. Hopefully it will get easier with practice.

We are just about recovering from a traumatic arrival in Italy. We landed at Naples airport, which is more like an old hangar than a modern airport. We could see no sign of the car hire desks to collect our prebooked car. There was nobody at the info desk. We eventually asked a Thomson rep - we thought she might at least speak English. She suggested we tried the other terminal. We did our best to find it but found ourselves outside. The taxi drivers did directed us to where the car hire car park was. Off we set. A long way it seemed to be. The Fox took the cases & I pushed myself. It felt like I'd done a marathon by the time we got there after crossing roads, going up & down drop kerbs(?). There we found the office closed. We had to go back to the terminals! We discovered there was a courtesy bus to the airport but it was not accessible for me. We decided I'd best wait at the car park with the bags, while the Fox caught the bus back to the airport. He eventually found the car hire desks in the departure lounge rather than arrivals. He got the keys to find he couldn't find where the bus went from to get back to me. He set off by foot, once more, getting lost a bit en route. Eventually he got back, hot, sweaty, thirsty & exhausted.

After a sit down, he set off on the next jaunt to locate the car - the far side of course. Eventually he found it. Naples airport is right in the centre of the city so we were straight into busy city traffic without chance to get our bearings or get used to the car or Italian road signs. Somehow we manage to find the motorway out of the city to discover the car was a joint manual/auto &, from the sound of the engine, we were stuck in manual. The book that came with the car was in Italian only. We eventually managed to work out how to get into auto mode & go at a better speed.

We finally got to Pompei to discover the left fork we were directed to go along was the second right on the roundabout & we had taken the first. Fortunately we had a street map of central Pompei & managed to find the hotel. We then had difficulty getting into the hotel garage, scraping it against the wall. Staff came running out of the hotel, & had to manually lift the car away. We discovered then that guests are supposed to park in the reserved parking across the street & the staff put the car in the garage as it it so awkward an entrance.

By this time our nerves were raw. We collapsed for a lie down. The car remained in the garage until yesterday. Meanwhile we've been catching up on our sleep, discovering Pompei's restaurants & generally strolling around the town. Over the weekend the excavations have been free entry so we had a look around some of them. It's a hard push. Unfortunately I couldn't see much, just sufficient to whet the appetite, but at least the Fox has been wowed.

Life in Italy seems quite different from that in England. Everyone seems out on the streets once its dark. People have been very kind & helpful. Few speak much English. In fact our best conversations with others have been in French! We're managing to survive. We even impressed the waiter at yesterday's restaurant by chosing & ordering something off the Italian menu which never appeared on the English translation version of the menu. Italian drivers seem to be as mad as expected, driving up one way streets the wrong way. That's not just us! The theory seems to be keep your eyes open in all directions. Anything can happen. They don't hesitate to do a U-turn in the middle of a busy street!

That's it for the moment. I'll maybe try to write a bit more another day.

PS Forgive any mis-spellings but the spell check doesn't seem to work in Italy.

Holidays & calculus

I've just been listening to some of "In Our Time" on BBC Radio 4. The topic under discussion is the battle between Isaac Newton & Leibnitz over who invented calculus. This is a heady topic indeed for someone who can barely remember what calculus is or its purpose & value.

I always find this a strange programme. I'm all for having some intelligent programmes, something intellectually stimulating. So many programmes are just lightly entertaining, & that's no bad thing. I think my real problem with the programme is the timing. These days I'm rarely sufficiently with-it to follow all the arguments. 9am didn't bother me in school & university days, but these days I'm still in the process of waking up. I know the programme is repeated at 9.30pm but by that time I'm relaxing, if not falling asleep again.

I do better when the topic is one that relates more to my own interests. Generally I follow the programme better when it's to do with history, particularly classical Italy or Greece, the Tudors & Stuart times in Britain & Europe, or the 20th century. I also appreciate discussions on literature & art. Theology I'm interested in but don't always follow all the nuances. (There was a recent programme on Thomas Aquinas, for example.) But science & maths is quite a different matter. I end up being grateful that Melvyn Bragg, the leader of the discussion, does remember that some of his audience are ignorant, or at least sketchy on the subject, & bring the experts back to ground as they strive to disappear into the intellectual ether.

Enough of that. As readers of the Fox's blog will know, we're off on our hols today. I was looking forward to it, but now I'm not so sure. It sounded an exciting & lovely area to visit, but I feel I've heard nothing but negativity coming from the Fox for weeks. All he seems focused on is the difficulties. Firstly there's the language. Italian proved not to be the slight variation on French he thought. Yet we managed in the Netherlands without a word of Dutch, armed only with a phrasebook. His researches have made him aware of the amount of crime in the area of Naples. Despite the fact thousands of people go there every year & have a great time, he's convinced we're going to be mugged, robbed or kidnapped. Italian driving doesn't reassure him even though he's driven often in other countries with erratic drivers with no problem. I've got to the stage of almost dreading the holiday. I can't help feeling his negativity is almost sure to make the trip into a disaster. And to add to it, I'm going to be blamed for it. He's already blaming me for the choice of destination despite the fact it was he who first wanted to go to Italy & dismissed the northern lake area & Venice as too touristy!

Well we shall see. But my hopes aren't very high. We're not taking the laptop with us so there probably won't be any more blogs until we're back. I hope all goes well for you all, as well as for us.

An old friend

Time for the pack this afternoon. The holiday is fast coming upon us.

I rang an old childhood friend last night to see if he was free to join us at the hotel the night before our flight. He really didn't sound well. For years he has been massively overweight. For the last ten years or so he has been fighting valiantly to lose weight, not easy when he's on the road a lot of the time as a sales rep & so eats out a lot. When I last spoke to him, he'd got down to about 17 stone, but now he's down to just 14 stone, which the doctor reckons is too light since he is over 6ft tall. He's been suffering from a virus that affects his metabolism. He's now been put on a diet full of cream & other fattening stuff to put on weight! (Oh what an excuse to indulge in chocolate with a free conscience!)

I'm glad to say after our little chat & knowing we're meeting up later this week, he sounded considerably more positive, stronger. The call obviously gave him a morale lift.

I wonder if he'll look like the extremely slim man he was in his teens/early twenties before he got married & piled on the inches. We'll see.

Hair cut time

It's hair cut time once more. The Fox managed to get his done yesterday. I'm off later this morning. As you may remember, I find this a necessary evil rather than a source of pleasure or relaxation. The old English sheepdog look has got to go.

I'm hoping the weather will brighten up so I'll be able to go in the Mean Machine, my electric scooter. At present the road the salon is on, is dug up for new gas pipes. It's in the midst of four sets of temporary traffic lights. The pavement looks reasonably clear so the Mean Machine shouldn't be a problem. But if it's very wet, I doubt I'll be able to park within my limited walking distance.

My main reason for using this hairdresser is its ease of access. It's usually possible to park immediately outside the salon, but not at the moment. Oh well, fingers crossed!

Holiday countdown

It's countdown time. We're off on our hols later this week. I've just picked the apples & pears off the tree. We'll probably be going to the Pub this afternoon. PD is hoping to see us there. We'll take the excess fruit with us. They always appreciate the fruit for making desserts. They've even been known to cook some there & then so we could sample poached pears in chocolate sauce, for example, just by way of thanks. Some I've wrapped up to keep us going through the winter months. It doesn't seem to have been a good year for fruit. We had far too much rain & wind in blossom time. Even in August the gales were blowing the fruit off before they had chance to ripen.

On Saturday we finished the last of the Fox's carrots. We wouldn't want them to go to waste. He's still feeling encouraged to have another go next year. He's even thinking of extending his range of crops!

We're having our use-up stir fry for dinner tonight. I thought we'd use up some left over chicken, rather than prawns, for a change this time. It will be a right mixture. We seem to have a fair number of peppers, both red & yellow. There's a quarter cucumber in the fridge. We tried cucumber in a stir fry not so long ago. It was surprisingly nice, though you do have to dry it out a bit. Just scoop out the seeds. Salt it well to draw out the water. After 20 mins or so rinse the salt off & dry on kitchen paper. We also seem to have a piece of stem ginger & loads of chillies. (It's one of the things that gets to me is that you end up buying a whole packet of chillies, when you only want one. Chillies can stretch a long way.) Oh, and there's some spring onions & shallots. We'll also add a few extra veg from the freezer, probably broad beans.

That only leaves eggs to be used up. We have a half egg which will probably end up in floddies (small bacon fritters) or mini fish balls. After that it will probably be something like an omelette or a rice & egg meal. I'm determined not to leave anything to go off. The potatoes will keep until we're back.

Sleep at last

At last I've managed it. What's it? Sleep.

For some time I've mentioned just how tired both of us are. It's been a stressful year with the new kitchen and the long illness & eventual demise of MK, not to mention the deaths of our friend Dave C & our neighbour Geoff, both just 56. I've not been sleeping well. I rarely do these days between pain, restless legs & burning knees. Somewhere in the mix is a certain amount of mental turmoil. I have the odd sleeping pill when I'm getting too tired, but I've been determined to make the packet last until the hols. I don't want to become addicted to them &, on the whole, I don't find drug-induced sleep refreshing anyhow. It's just the time comes when it becomes essential.

On Friday one of the reasons I went to see the doctor was to get fresh supplies. I knew I had to get some sleep before we went away & I was on the last couple in the packet. Now I've got a new prescription I duly took a pill on Friday night. Unfortunately I was just so tired that even that pill wasn't sufficient to knock me out. Instead I woke up several times, though less than usual.

Last night I tried again. The pill took ages to have much effect, but when it did I was out like a light. Total oblivion. I woke this morning, very heavy. I told myself to take my time. There's nothing to rush for. I'm sure God will forgive me if I don't get to church. Eventually I emerged around 9am, late for me.

Now I'm properly awake. I feel more with it than I have done for months. I'm sure by the time I've done my Sunday chores I'll once more feel shattered but hopefully now I'll be able to drop off naturally. I know it sounds silly but there just seems to come a point where your very tiredness seems to prevent you sleeping. At that point I reach for the pills. Maybe this time I left it too long.

Like old times

It was like old times. There was a good turn out in Geriatrics' Corner. PD had escaped. Lin, his wife, was at the Harrogate Flower Show. He'd done the list of chores she'd left & a few others so he felt he'd earnt the right to indulge a bit. He always brings an extra vibrancy & colour to things when he comes.

Fran & Den were there too. The greenhouse/conservatory they're having built has hit problems. It was all erected on Monday (see Tuesday's blog). The man returned on Tuesday to put some lead over the join to the building when one huge pane of reinforced glass shattered. No new glass has arrived. The man who's supposed to do the concreting for the floor is off sick, so now Fran & Den are waiting. Den is keen to sort the electrics but daren't until the extension is rainproof. Fran is keen to see the new carpet down & throw a party to celebrate. But, instead, now they wait.

Helen, Mrs B & Little B are all in good form. Mr P is in, too. Altogether a good turn out, full of lively conversation & laughter.

When we came to go we said our farewells to those we won't see again before our holidays. Mr P is put out we're not saying farewell to him. I point out we'll be seeing him again before, I should think. He perks up & remembers he's going to join us at the airport hotel we're staying at. Then he suddenly remembers he's departing for Paris from Liverpool, & we're going from Manchester. And he's the one who's supposed to be the conference organiser! Can't even organise us both to be at the same city!

All of a rush

I feel I've been rushing all morning. It started when I was up late. Normally this wouldn't matter, but today I had a doctor's appointment at 8.30am & it was already after 8. It was a dark morning so even 8am looked more like the middle of the night. I hadn't bothered to set the alarm as the Fox had decided he would stay up & take me to the surgery before going to bed. Unfortunately he'd dropped off to sleep on the sofa. If it hadn't been for our neighbour starting hammering at something I would probably have slept on.

Still after a rush we did get to the surgery. My blood pressure was up. I commented I wasn't surprised after the rush I'd had to get there on time. He wants me to be back for another reading when we're back from our hols & more relaxed.

We came straight home, had some tea (the first of the morning!), then the Fox went off to bed. I tried to sit & relax for half an hour to let him get off to sleep, before I started to clatter around in the kitchen, making dinner for this evening - Cheese Pasta Medley to use up the half tin of tomatoes in the fridge.

In the midst of doing this, I opened a cupboard to be confronted with moths. We've been having an invasion this year. They've been getting in the food cupboards & laying eggs. We thought we'd got it all cleared up, though we suspected we hadn't found them all. Too many still seemed to be flying around. So in the middle of making the meal I ended up emptying the cupboard, checking all the food & throwing anything infested out.

Finally I got the meal done & the kitchen tidied up. Next stop, feed the birds. We managed to get to the pet shop yesterday & the seed containers definitely needed a fill up. They always appreciate the bacon fat & rind anyhow.

At last I feel I can just sit & relax. I'm off to a wisteria tunnel in a jigsaw. Maybe there I'll be able to find some peace before we get off to the butcher's for some chicken for tomorrow & the Pub. Helen, MK's widow, is hoping to be there. We want to support her if we can.

The countdown begins

So far the colds seem to be keeping at bay. I still suspect the real problem lies with tiredness rather than germs. I found it quite noticeable that in the middle of the day we both seemed reasonably well, but got worse after dinner. Today I'm feeling brighter.

The Fox is in charge of the cooking today. He's going to tackle some fish goujons. He's never tried battering & deep-frying his own fresh fish. He's also going to make a dip to accompany it, a sort of spicy tomato relish, another new experience for him. I'm looking forward to it.

After that I've only got one meal in hand & that we'll have on Saturday. We're down to emptying our fridge before our hols. This usually results in a series of old favourites ending with a prawn stir fry which uses up just about any remaining veg. Then we'll really know we're on our way.

Yesterday we were surprised to discover that the day we set off for our hotel near the airport is the same day Mr P flies off to France to chair a conference on inter-school exchanges throughout Europe. He half suggested we meet up while he waits for his evening plane. I suspect it won't happen. You usually seem to have to got through the barrier long before the flight in order to pass all the security arrangements in less than an hour. We'll see.

Not again

It's back again. The Fox reckons he's back to a sore throat & snuffles. As the morning continues I'm aware I'm sneezing, bog-eyed & blowing. I'm telling myself I'm just overtired & will be fine. I just hope so. We both want to be well, & quick.

Yesterday we got our holiday tickets. It finally feels as though we're going. The Fox is having cold feet. He watched a programme on Naples. It reckoned it was one of the most violent, filthy, crime-ridden cities in Europe. I point out we're not thinking of visiting Naples much. That's just the airport. We're off to Pompei & the Amalfi Coast. Admittedly, if we have a wet day, I had thought we might visit one of the museums in Naples. If we don't like the looks of the place we can go elsewhere. All the most recent guidebooks agree it is considerably better than it used to be. And if you stay in the well-lit, busy parts of the city you should avoid the crime.

Despite my usual feelings about cooking & colds, today we're having fresh tuna for dinner. We bought it yesterday. By the time we got home from the shop & put things away, we both felt too tired to cook. We went down to the local pub, where we were joined by our friends, Den & Fran. They'd been having some building work done & were equally escaping from the kitchen. It turned into a very pleasant meal.

Fortunately the fish is well dated. It won't take long to quickly fry this evening. I've already coated it with sesame seeds & made a spicy dressing accompany it. No mattter how our health progresses through the day, we should be able to manage to complete the meal.

Celebrity death

AS usual I listened to the news over breakfast. Latest news was of someone important dying. They didn't say who immediately. I thought of all sorts of celebrities who might have died to deserve the accolades being showered around.

Last night, during our conversation over a bottle of wine, the Fox & I had discussed the relative impact of the deaths of John Lennon & Dusty Springfield (we were listening to her singing at the time) on our lives. Whoever this was it sounded as though they should have as great, if not greater impact. It turned out to be Keith Floyd, the chef.

I'm forced to admit I have never understood the attraction for this man. He was always too florid for me. He flourished alcohol with abandon both in his meals & down his throat. I heard how he was described as an artist with words inspiring us all to great culinary heights. He never inspired me. For great culinary prose I would rather turn to Elizabeth David any day. Maybe part of the problem was the expert explaining Floyd's great culinary contribution(?) was Marco Pierre White, another man I have little time for, though at least some of his food does look appetising. I have tried cooking a Floyd recipe - very faffy & very unexciting to eat.

I feel rather mean in saying all this. I am sorry he has died, inasmuch as I am sorry that anyone has died. I just don't see what all this hyperbole is about. It must be a slow news day, that's all I can conclude.

If anyone reading this feels differently, please comment to enlighten me on where I missed out. I just don't understand.

Back to normal cooking

Isn't it typical? Now the Fox is almost better again & I can get back to living life normally, the sun disappears. The last few days I've been itching to go out in the Mean Machine or into the garden, making the most of the glorious sunshine & blue skies. Now that I feel I can afford the energy to do such things, the skies are once more grey & overcast. But, at least, I can rejoice in the fact the Fox is so much better. He even managed to cook us one of his Kipper & Egg Kedgerees last night.

I have got as far as scraping some new potatoes for today's meal. We're back in the land of more imaginative food. Scallops today, on a bed of potatoes & leeks in cream. I'm once more confident the Fox can give a hand if needed. and he's certainly up to making the pots of tea through the day.

Now I'm hastily using up the food I bought before he was taken ill. Cooking has been put on hold during his ill-health. The cream in today's meal is passed its use by date. It tasted fine yesterday, but it does need to be used up quick. The half cucumber to go with the fresh tuna has largely turned to mush, so that meal will wait until I next go shopping. The tomatoes for a salsa to go with some fish goujons still look fine. They can wait until tomorrow.

One thing this hiatus in our usual cooking means is that we will not have to do another major shop until we get back from Italy. Until then we will just use the planned meals I haven't got around to doing, topped up with a few items from the freezer. There's no point in buying much fresh food to go to waste while we're away. The holiday will soon be upon us & I'm looking forward to it with eager anticipation.

Oh, yes, we did get to the concert. We did seriously question if the effort was worth it. The sight of the beam on Mr P's face when he saw us arrive, his eager telling Christian we were here & the latter's beam, made it all seem worthwhile. And, after a nervous start, the music wasn't half bad too!

All go

I'm still not entirely convinced we'll get to the concert. The Fox is far from 100%. He thought he'd cook yesterday, but no sooner had he started than he began to feel blocked up again & having silly accidents. I had to take over. By the time we had eaten, I was exhausted & the Fox was frustrated & irritable.

So far this morning, I've been doing chores. A shower. These days this is a major task, not to be undertaken daily. Then the ironing. We'll need some clean clothes soon. I'm now having a quick sit down & a mug of tea before tackling the lamb curry, ready to warm up this evening.

All this excess work has come because we'd been given the wrong date for the concert & not reminded a few days earlier. As you know I was intending a few days of doing pretty well nothing until the Fox was well. Instead I'm rushing around trying to get things done to go to a concert to support a friend. I'm telling myself I'll get a lie down later to keep me going. I just hope the Fox is feeling miraculously better. And not just when he's sat still, as yesterday!

Change of plan

Despite the Fox's cold, we venture out in the afternoon to get some essential chores done ie collect our prescriptions. Since we're out, we top up with petrol & venture on to the Pub.

Towards the end of the afternoon, Mr P arrives with a stranger. He introduces us all. The conversation continues. As we go, we say farewell to all, including Mr P & his friend, who have sat on their own at the bar.

At this point Mr P suddenly turns to his friend & says, referring to us, " And they're coming to the concert on Saturday."

We look at each other blankly. What concert?

"I told you about it a while back & you said you'd come."

That did at least register a bell with us. "Oh, you've brought the Big Band over from Germany." Christian, the stranger, agrees. "But you said December, not September. We've even put it in the diary then," we tell Mr P.

So it is we're now going to a concert on Saturday evening. Big band music.We've had to rearrange our plans. First the Fox is going to have to get rid of his cold, in double quick time. No bad thing. Secondly we're having the Saturday roast today. We bought the guinea fowl on Wednesday & we're looking forward to it. By the time it's cooked & eaten I wouldn't want to be setting out for a concert in the evening. Tomorrow will have to be something quick & easy, a lamb curry perhaps.

Cold strikes again

All plans for the next few days are off. The Fox has gone down with a cold. For the last week he has been fighting it off. He's had a sore throat & felt a bit stuffed up. But at the same time his skin has turned into sandpaper, which usually means he's suffering from an allergy rather than a cold. Yesterday he started to blow and well & truly know it's a cold.

His ill-health affects my lifestyle. Without his assistance in every day living, my life comes down to basics - a regular circular trip from a chair in the lounge, to the toilet, to the kitchen for something to drink, back to the chair. More than that & I just grind to a halt. I feel quite guilty about having to be so self-centred when he's ill. I so want to be of help to the Fox. But, ultimately, the best I can do is try to avoid his cold & keep going. Let him rest & get better without worrying about me. If possible I'll make dinner but it will be something that requires minimum effort, a ready meal probably.

I'm telling myself it's maybe best to get the cold out of the way now rather than when we're on holiday. With a bit of luck he should be fine by then & be able to enjoy the trip. Hopefully I will have avoided getting it.

And no, he doesn't think for one minute that it's swine flu. It's a cold, pure & simple.

Sunny day

It comes as a shock to get up to blue skies this morning. It seems a long time since this last happened. I've hastily got the washing out to dry. I'm itching to go out. My first urge is to do a bit gardening but the ground is so wet it's impossible. Yesterday, between showers, I did manage to cut down the fennel before they scattered seeds everywhere. The smell of aniseed was wondrous.

My second thought is to go on a trip in the Mean Machine. I would go to the fish shop but we're going supermarket food shopping this afternoon. I've already bought some chicken for today. That's going in a lemony garlic marinade, with a bit of chilli to spice things up a bit. A spell in the grillit pan this evening should mean a quick tasty meal no matter how tired we are after the shop & getting our purchases put away.

Still the weather forecast is hopeful so maybe I'll get some fish tomorrow.

Maybe I'll just get as far as completing the tidying of the front garden. The echinacea I planted not so longer ago is looking as though it needs a dead-heading. That shouldn't be too tiring to mean I can't cope with the shop this afternoon. And maybe it will satisfy that urge to be out & doing on a gloriously sunny day. And at the moment any sunny day is glorious!

Optimism

"I'm thinking of coming to do the garden on Wednesday. Will you be in?" asks Al, our gardener.

We'll be in. But we can't help pointing out the forecast is for rain today, Tuesday, & sure enough it is raining this morning. I add I'd gone to look at the bog plants earlier yesterday. As I stood on the crazy paving, I moved my weight around a bit. Between the cracks, water seeped out.

Last night, after Al's question, I tried stepping on the lawn. I never even got my foot fully on the ground. The slightest bit of pressure was sufficient to start a puddle appearing. I somehow don't see Al coming tomorrow.

Oh, and by the way, the pie did turn out to be a definite shepherd's pie. The taste of lamb sang through.

Mystery pie

I don't understand it. I keep a conscientious list of the contents of our freezer, adding when we gain food, crossing out when we've eaten it. We've just got on to a new month.

Leaving my list in the kitchen, I go to the freezer in the laundry room to move the relevant food up to the top of the pile, so it will be easy to find. According to my list there should be a bag of bacon, some haddock, some cooked chicken, some leftover stuffing & some lamb.

First I find the haddock. At the bottom, of course. Then the chicken & stuffing. All's going well.

My first problem is that I find two big bags, not the one I expected, full of little bags of bacon apparently of the same vintage. I go back for the list to check there isn't supposed to be a bag of the same month but of a different vintage. No. For Saturday's meal I take out a small bag from one big bag & hope I've hit the right bag. We've obviously got a lot of bacon ahead of us to eat all this lot up!

Next problem, the lamb. I get it into my head I'm looking for cooked lamb. Can I find it? No. Instead I find a couple of bags without labels. They must have come off. One bag is still labelled cooked lamb but no date. It's an unusual quantity. I return again to my list. I manage to find that. The other bag is definitely cooked red meat of some sort & 8oz but that's all I know. I decide it must be the cooked lamb I should have used up a while ago. I label it as such to go back to the freezer & find I'm putting it on top of a bag already labelled the same way as this one. In which case what is this bag? No idea.

So today, we're having mystery pie. I conclude whatever vintage this mystery bag, whatever variety of left over meat it is, it needs to be used up & soon. So today we're having shepherd's pie I think, though it may turn out to be a cottage pie. Either way it will be used up & eaten.

As for the lamb I was seeking, that turned out to be minced lamb. Once I realised I was looking for mince, it was quickly found.

What I can't understand is how things got so muddled. It seems I've still got another 8oz bag of cooked lamb of an earlier vintage to use up & an awful lot of bacon. So much for my efficiency!

Wet,wet,wet

The rain continues to lash down. In a lull I consider going to put some food out for the birds. A tentative step or two convinces me not to. There is an olive coloured slime covering much of the patio area, or at least what isn't under water. This slime is very slippery. With my walking abilities it's not worth the risk. Even the birds seem to have decided to stay secure in the shelter of the trees & undergrowth rather than venturing out into the gale force winds.

This will be a real test as to whether we bought well with our bog plants. Now they are not in a bog. Instead they are in a pond. We've drowned bog plants in this bed before now. I'm just hoping it doesn't happen this time. As for the bark the Fox so laboriously put down as a mulch, that has just floated off & is now on the other side of the yard. At least the plants are still staying in the ground & not washing away too.

Al, our gardener, at the Pub yesterday, said he is thinking he'll be abandoning gardening for this year if the weather doesn't pick up soon. He went to one house not so far from us earlier this week. The lawn looked good & ready for a cut. He pushed his lawnmower on to it, whereupon it instantly sank several inches into mud. He had to manhandle it out. He cut that lawn with the strimmer, feeling the ground underneath him moving all the time. Our garden is even wetter, so it looks as though the long grass is going to remain for quite a while yet. It's certainly growing with all this water.

They reckon with climate change & the icecaps melting, we are likely to be more subject to flooding. I had thought that was supposed to be the result of rising seas, not falling rain. Or is so much rain the result of there being more water in the sea to evaporate & come down on us as rain? Whatever it is, I've had enough. I long for some sunshine again, preferably with some warmth. I'll settle for a few days of dryness.

Student life

Last night we watched "Economy Gastronomy" BBC2 once more. So far the series has essentially centred on middle class families. This episode featured a student house shared by men only. We couldn't help thinking the chefs had very strange views of student life & certainly the students shown seemed to be very different from those we remember in our university days.

I spent all my university years in hall. This was out of choice. Although I could cook, I wasn't confident I would always bother &, as the student year progressed, it was always reassuring to know a cooked meal would be made & was already paid for. I wouldn't starve no matter how tight the finances had become.

The Fox only spent one year in hall The rest was in student houses. He was in a house when we started dating. He, like these students when we first met them, bought & cooked his own food, separately from the others in the house. Most of it was convenience food. Sometimes he would eat at the union rather than cooking.

The Fox's reaction was that in none of the houses he lived in did he feel much in common with the others in the house. There was no way he would want to have spent time cooking & eating with the others. And certainly those I met in the last house were best avoided.

I think of my lifestyle then. It would have been virtually impossible to have organised common cooking & eating on a daily basis. My fellow students & friends all did things at different times. We were too busy with study & enjoying ourselves. Often we would be at the university late for the library or social reasons. Even with a set time for meals in hall we often didn't eat together, as one or the other would arrive late or opt for a voucher for a meal in the union.

The other thing that struck me was what paragons of virtue these young men were. Certainly in the seventies when I was a student, most men spent a lot of time & money in bars. A lot of beer was drunk. These lads had the odd glass of wine but there were no signs of pub crawls & the bawdiness that resulted. Surely students still overindulge? In normal society you certainly see enough teenagers who indulge, even overindulge. Are university students a different species from their non-university contemporaries? Has student life changed that much? I don't believe it.

And another thing. A couple of suggestions made by the chefs struck us as ludicrous. Before they were taken in hand, the lads often stopped at the kebab shop late on the way home after a late night out. The chefs taught them how to make their own kebabs which were cheaper & more nutritious. After this they duly went back & cooked their own. When I was late out, the last thing I would want to do is to start cooking. No. In my case it would be the chippy. I don't remember there being KFC, McDonalds, donner kebab places, Subways, around then much.Occasionally I might warm up a tin of soup late on, but not start making soup from scratch.

One student had a sweet tooth, eating a couple of packets of biscuits or chocolates a day. Under this regime, he learnt how to make his own cookies. To me, biscuits & chocolates are about instant gratification, not starting to cook. Most of his consumption was done when he was studying. You can open a packet & eat biscuits, sweets & chocolate, without interrupting. You cannot do that if you have to cook them first.

Personally I don't think I ever really had the time to spend an hour plus cooking on a regular basis. I was far too busy during the daytime with either study or socialising. The only time I really sat & relaxed over coffee, or in my case tea, with friends tended to be late at night, & even then I would not have wanted to start cooking at 9-10pm! Occasionally I stayed in hall all day & made some lunch but that tended to consist of a Vesta Meal. (Oh, remember them. What a culinary highlight in those days!) When I was going out with the Fox I did cook the odd meal for/with him. His house had proper facilities, hall only had a couple of rings to cook on. And yes I did cook properly for him. I grilled my first trout there, cooked some pork in cider. The Fox showed me how to make a decent omelette in return. But then I was out to impress. I couldn't, & didn't, do it on a regular basis.

No these lads were a different species from students in the seventies. And these chefs had no idea of student life. I cannot believe it's changed that much. These lads didn't even bring girls back to the house!

A bit of a dither

I've been having a dither - never a pleasant experience. The question is whether to get out the Mean Machine & go to the shops.

Today I've decided on fish for dinner. The ground was wet when I got up so I thought we'd do as planned, ie go in the car this afternoon. With this in mind, I scraped the new potatoes & par-boiled them ready to saute this evening. While I was doing this, my eyes kept wandering out of the window. The sky got increasingly blue.

So why not get out the Mean Machine? The weather forecast may be rain, but they rarely seem accurate for this area. Before I could go, the potatoes needed par-boiling. I would wait till then. Just as the potatoes were done & drained, the rain began.

So much for that. End of dither. We're going this afternoon. In the car. Now I can relax, write a blog, listen to a bit of radio, jig a bit. No more dithering. Fence sitting is a very uncomfortable position.

Evening out

It was a noisy meal last night. Conversation flowed, as did laughter. The only quiet people seem to be Little B (he's always quiet) & us. At one point it struck me we were the only couple. The other six people were widowed, one divorce & one lifelong bachelor. I suspect the fact that so many are single makes it easier for some to continue to come even after the loss of a partner.

We were told the glad news that Helen, widow of MK, is off to Scotland with Mrs B, the retired headmistress, & Little B. Just for a few days. Helen could do with a holiday but I don't think she is ready to travel on her own just yet. This seems an ideal solution. Linda, too, is off on a holiday, Tenerife in her case, to be joined by a friend there.

It must be very difficult to start holidaying after the death of a much loved & greatly missed, spouse has died. To me part of the joy of a holiday is sharing our discoveries as the days pass. Indeed I think it almost doubles the pleasure in the experience.

Today we're off back to the same Chinese restaurant. When we got home, the Fox took out the receipt to realise they'd only charged us for one meal. We rang the restaurant immediately. They checked &, sure enough, not all the meals had been paid for. So we're off back to pay for the second meal. I might have questioned being so honest if the food & service had been poor, but, in this case, both had been magnificent, well worth the price charged. We certainly want to be able to go again & be welcome.