Bein’ as ‘ow I are still a veritable husk of a person, I still haven’t got anything amusing or witty to say. I’m hanging in there until I feel all invigorated and what not.
Let’s do random snippets. That’s about as coherent as I get.
I am still cooking my way through Anjum’s Quick and Easy Indian. We are eating well, although I am adapting many of her recipes. There are a lot of stir fries, which don’t work well for me, given that I am very busy and can’t spend hours faffing about prepping stuff and julienning veg into matching rectangles. I tend to cheat and whack all the same ingredients in the slow cooker with a bit more liquid and make a kind of curry from what would have been a much drier mix. It works. Hence the lack of pictures. What I make from her books tastes great, but doesn’t ever resemble what it should.
I am now branching into Nigel Slater for inspiration. I love Nigel with a passion that remains undimmed.
Nigel, Nigel, let me climb into your trouser turn up and nestle with you. I will bring my own spoon.
I went treasure hunting with mum and dad this morning. It was not entirely successful due to a parlous shortage of real treasure. I did buy a vintage Seventies dress for £6. Everything else she had on the stall was very spendy because it all had labels in. The dress I bought was fabulous, but hand made, hence no labels. Hence £6 price tag. Ridiculous really. But my gain. So all good.
I am using the word hence a lot. I know. I could go back and edit out extra hences. I won’t. I feel I need to let out all the bottled up hences that have been dying to get out for ages.
Hence the hences.
My new dress makes me feel like Margot Leadbetter from The Good Life. This is exceedingly pleasing in many ways, none of which are flattering, but all of which make me laugh a lot.
I have some work at the moment. Paid work. It is part time, but keeping me busy, and I am enjoying it. Eventually there may be money for Christmas presents and shoes.
I am on a steep learning curve, which, along with the work is probably part of what is rendering me a husk. I have been reading work related books. They are very boring. I am very, very tired already of the self congratulatory tone of many people who write books about social media. I am also very annoyed at buzz words and phrases. They can take a helicopter view and stick it up their collective arse, is my summation of the whole sordid experience.
I am so tired I cannot remember if I told you that I have started volunteering one day a week at Oscar’s school now. It was my first day last week. I spent a lot of it shovelling books around the library and getting filthy. The rest of it was spent listening to children read. I am enjoying it, but one day a week is definitely enough for me.
And probably them, to be fair.
Tiberius survived the weekend, although she is weary of me, and when I gave her her bath this morning she was so enervated by the whole procedure she had to lean her small, gnarly head on the side of the bowl in order to give herself room to think.
I know how she feels.
I have hurt the bottom of my foot. Right where my toes meet my foot. I have cut myself and it is making me walk about in an ‘ouchy’ sort of way. This is rubbish. I have no idea how this happened. I wonder if I am actually splitting at the seams.
Surely the much abused stomach area would have been the first to split had this been true?
My brother is predicting arctic temperatures for next week. He is a weather sooth sayer at the moment and is full of seasonal gloom. My husband agrees. I wonder if I will ever be able to wear my new, sparkly Boden shoes of joy out of the house?
Although I’m glad I didn’t go for the crushed velvet ones in turquoise now. Even though they are the true love of my heart.
I’m hoping, secretly, they might be reduced in the January sales, and I might be able to use some of my hard earned wages to buy them.
If I haven’t split apart at the seams by then.