Cooking again

It’s the first day I’ve cooked in days. It’s impossible to cook when every minute I’m either coughing up or blowing my nose. My taste buds seem to have made a partial recovery with not having chemo this week, so we’re making the most of that fact with some more exciting food.

So today I write as I wait for the minced beef & pork filling cools after their initial cooking. I’m making a Smiley Pie, a meal guaranteed to put a smile on our faces. Just thinking of the goofy grin on the pastry lid is enough to cause a grin to appear on our faces. Once the filling is cooled I’ll put it in between the pastry top & bottom, ready to cook this evening. We’re both looking forward to it.

 

One smiley pie ready for the oven

I’ve already checked my bloods for the next chemo session. I will be having my session on Monday. I will mention though I will have finished the antibiotics on Monday morning &, certainly at the moment, the cold hasn’t fully gone. Hopefully if they think I need more they can prescribe some while I’m there.

New arrival

It was late, around 6.30pm. We’d just finished dinner & I’d gone off to get changed into my nightwear when the doorbell rang. The Fox went to answer the door. He was amazed to find a man come to deliver my new wheelchair. I hastily put back on what I’d taken off – not much at that stage - & put on a thick coat & joined them.

I was encouraged to try the chair, to test it to see if I was satisfied. I did my best, but it was difficult to come to any real conclusions in the dark.

It certainly has a very different feel from my old one. It’s narrower – well, I had lost 2 inches across my thighs. The wheels seem lower to reach, the back higher – a better height for the tall Fox to reach to push me. The handling rings on the wheels are covered with a warmer material rather than the old aluminium which gets so freezing cold in winter. I tried a drop kerb & found I could tip to get up the lip so it was clearly lighter than those they’d sent before. In the end all I could say was that it was promising but I really needed to try it out further, in daylight, to come to any decision.

The deliveryman commented I should keep both my old & new one for the time being & see how I get on. Once I’ve properly decided I’m to ring the company & they will take away the one I don’t want. If I’ve decided to keep the new one but need a few minor alterations they can do that then.

Since then it has rained. I’m reluctant to take the new chair out much in this weather. But the first dry day, I’ll be out on the patio area of the garden trying it out, checking if I can get myself up the ramp to the kitchen door. Hopefully by then my cold will also be under control. I do hope so.

Crime scene

On Sunday I ventured into the kitchen midmorning. I was surprised to see a whole lot of white bits over the paved area at the end of the garage. What’s that? I thought. I went out to find out.

As I got nearer, I realised the white bits were in fact feathers, some with black in them. A massacre had clearly happened, yet there was no body. I moved on towards the compost bin. Suddenly a peregrine falcon took off from the bed a little further on, leaving a bloody carcase behind.

I thought I might as well leave it. I would tackle the carcase later, after I’d peeled the spuds which was the reason for entering the kitchen in the first place.

Having done the potatoes I went back to the compost bin with the peelings. Again the falcon took off. This time there was no sign of any carcase left behind.

Needless to say, since then, there seem to have been fewer birds, particularly small ones, around. With a bird of prey like that around it will take a while before they have the confidence to venture once more into our garden.

I still can’t quite decide what variety of bird was the prey. The feathers were pure white, except those with some black spots on them. The only birds I can think with that sort of colouring that visit us are the gulls. But a gull seem a rather large & vicious bird for the falcon to take on. It remains a mystery.