Update on blog party date options – please let me know if there’s any date you cannot do:
Sunday 10th June
Saturday 16th or Sunday 17th June
Saturday 23rd or Sunday 24th June
Saturday 30th June or Sunday 1st July (preferably not)
Saturday 7th or Sunday 8th July (preferably not)
Saturday 14th or Sunday 15th July
LT is away at his place for a few days, so our hearts are growing fonder. This evening, I went to Gardening Club. I’m drawing a veil over the talk, there have been better … nice speaker, though her talk would have been better aimed at beginner gardeners. And the good news is, I picked up our seed order for the year. Yay and huzzah etc.
I had only a few minutes to cook and eat before I went, so had an egg on a crumpet, which held the fort quite well but, I discovered, was not going to stem the pangs until the morning. I went shopping earlier and had a great need for cheese. I bought gorgonzola and mozzarella (both Italian rather than fake and the descriptions read well and I thought the Co op deserved the custom for trying) and some goat cheese and some Boursin. I had half the mozzarella at lunchtime and the rest, in its tub, went into the fridge for tomorrow.
Reaching for the gorgonzola, I knocked over the mozzarella in its liquid. I was a bit cross with myself but mopped it up and hope I got it all out from under the fridge. Then I wiped the bottom of the mozzarella tub, put it back in the fridge and the sodding thing, clearly not balanced at all, tipped again and the remaining liquid landed on the floor. At this point I lost my cool and swore mightily, wiped it all up again and poured a glass of whisky. And then I discovered that, at 9.30 pm, a helping of gorgonzola isn’t quite enough and nor was a tot of whisky, not if it was of modest proportions, so I was totally, totally obliged to go and replenish both. I’ll probably gibber of cheese – toasted, mostly – all night.
While I was at the Co op, I thought I might buy myself some flowers because I was feeling a bit sad and missing LT. They had Norfolk-grown tulips, which I thought was rather impressive in January, so I bought a bunch. They were in bud but they’re already opening out.
In other news, I had my tax demand and I’ve paid it at once because, let’s face it, the country needs the money pdq as it’s all so mightily awry that every pound helps. Or do I mean every billion? Can’t help there, but they’ve had a modest couple of thousand: I overpaid last year because that’s how self employment tax works – you overpay every other year. And the programme arrived for the Aldeburgh Festival. As it’s Leonard Bernstein’s centenary and, as Britten lived in America for a while and knew both him and Copland, there’s a fair bit of their work in this year’s festival. Which seems okay to me. When LT comes back home – both homes plus the caravan are home – we’ll look and choose. He’ll have to rein me in, I’d go to every concert I like the look of but he’s a bit more sensible. Not totally sensible, of course.