So, last night I filled the spare fridge with wine, ready for lunch today, but came down this morning to be met by a disconsolate Sage, holding a quantity of ice (not for long, ow, frostbite in August is not a good outlook except in the Antipodes) and regarding a large puddle on the floor. Everything was still cold, so the only problem was fitting everything into the usual fridge. Mind you, it’s so damn cold that food hardly needs refrigeration. It’s just the wine that needed to be chilled.
Our friends enquired if I really should be decorating the nursery next door, rather than chatting with them over after-lunch coffee. “Please stay” I begged – I had absolutely no intention of helping today, though I’ll be happy to during the week, and I rather wanted an excuse to stay comfortably in my own drawing room. In fact, later, I was offered a job, but backed away hastily and went to read the papers and have another glass of wine.
That’s it really, nice lazy day – apart, of course, from the time spent slaving over a hot stove this morning. It feels like autumn, the first ratatouille using vegetables from the garden. Dear little aubergines, striped purple and cream, and there is a very good crop of peppers this year too. I hope the chillies hot up soon though, they are crunchy to eat from the plant, but there is still no bite until you reach the stem, not even from the seeds.
A disjointed effort today? Yeah, but it’s the weekend, innit.
Have a good one.
ps – oh, and I discovered that Mrs Friend as well as Mr Friend reads (or has read, anyway) this blog. Momentarily bashful, then charmed. Love to you both, sweeties – xxx