Work gets in the way of blogging, I have found! It gets in the way of my writing, that's for sure.
I make furious notes but seem never to have the time to put my thoughts and observations down on paper - or in this case, on BlogSpot.
Sunday July 4th, 2010...
Another gloriously sunny hot English summer day. The Wimbledon men's tennis finals on TV, the sound of a cricket match being played on the pitch behind our house, and eating out on the patio under the sunshade. The strawberries in the shops now are from Hampshire, the next door county, so I bought 2 big punnets and made "Eton Mess" for dessert.
We had Caesar Salad to start, with fresh cooked chicken, and a few sprinkled sundried tomatoes to add a zest.
Now for those of you who know me, you'll be scratching your heads wondering what I am talking about, since cooking and I were never mentioned in the same breath. A. calls all my attempts at cuisine "a la maman" (which basically means burnt!)
Since I have had an enforced and unexpected transition to working from home, and because it is very expensive to eat out here, compared to LA, I have started poring over Jamie Oliver and Nigella Lawson books.
My culinary attempts are well-received by T, although A is still very critical and hardly encouraging. I am finding it more fun than I ever thought possible. Possibly due to the fact that I now have the time to actually shop and prepare properly. I have tried soups and stir fry, stews and roasts, to mixed results - but at leats I am now trying!
I do make a mean lemon pie, courtesy of my late mother's recipe, which I found, handwritten, in a pile of papers in an old box.
But back to the Eton Mess. For those of you who haven't tried it, delight awaits your palates.
Chilled strawberries and raspberries (marinated in a couple of teaspoons of pomegranate juice and a teaspoon of brown soft sugar), cut up or mushed, stirred into stiff, freshly-whipped cream, mixed with crumbled meringue bits. Divine!
Sunday has its own lovely schedule. Get up a little later than usual (in my case that means 7-8am!) and walk the dogs down to the village to buy the Sunday newspaper. It's about 2 miles round trip and we have done it in snow and ice, pouring rain (not on purpose) and recently in shorts and tank top.
Back home, biscuits for the dogs, cup of builders' tea and toast for moi, and settle down with my feet up, either outside (if the weather permits) or on the sofa, to read the newspaper and all the supplements and magazines. I usually attempt the Sudoku puzzles afterwards. I am absolutely c--p at these. I don't know why, but my brain doesn't see the number patterns easily and I often cannot finish them, or make mistakes and then cannot fix them. Infuriating, and I hate them, yet I am strangely addicted. I try to do them on the train, and even on planes.
By then the boys are usually up, so we can have a cooked breakfast (eggs and sausages - the veggie ones are delicious), and start the day.
If we don't have friends coming over, we cannot avoid doing chores. Weekend ones for me include mowing the lawn, the endless weeding, and sometimes some fun planting, or trimming. I sometimes get a bit enthusiastic with the secateurs - the poor Buddliea hasn';t yet properly recovered!
Ooops, have to go. It's 23:33 already, and the Scotties are restless for their walk. They like to see the very bushy-tailed and not at all timid fox that hangs out near the end of the road. It's on the same schedule as us for our last walk of the day!
More sun forecast for the next week. Could it be a real, prolonged English summer for once?
