Nothing to write about

I did write a post yesterday, but the move to trash box is right next to the publish box and I must have made a mistake.  Fortunately, it wasn’t some fabulous example of the thoughts of Chairman Z (won’t be calling myself that for too much longer) that had taken me hours to write.  Actually, I do sometimes write that sort of thing but I usually come to my senses and delete it on purpose.  And when I don’t, you lovely people usually pick up on something entirely trivial and comment on that, which is very good as it reminds me that I’m not really opinionated and it’s better that way.

Yet, life is a bit dull here at the Zedary most of the time and doesn’t give me a lot to talk about. Not dull in a bad way necessarily, just fairly quiet.

I’ll take the last 24 hours as an example.  I felt tired and edgy, so went for a long soak in the bath.  I used my best bath oil, that Lovely Sister gave me for Christmas, I applied a face pack and fantabulously softening hair conditioner and lay back and relaxed for half an hour.  Then I chopped various vegetables and made a stir fry with big king prawns for supper.  I ate two squares of dark chocolate (my Christmas chocolate is doing well, I’m on the second 90g bar and not quite halfway through that), an apple and a clementine and drank two small glasses of red wine.  I went to bed in good time and read the papers.  I slept soundly until about 2 am, went downstairs to make tea about 4 and went to sleep an hour or so later, having listened to Martin Jarvis read one of the William stories on catch-up radio.

I didn’t wake up until 9.45.  This is most unusual and quite embarrassing as someone was waiting patiently outside, having arrived at half past nine.  He was very nice about it and the morning reasserted itself.

I made some French onion soup with the last of the Christmas beef stock (and onions, obvs, darlings) and retired to the sofa for a nap this afternoon.  It was an anxious week and I can cope at the time, but my resilience is absolutely shot at present and I have lost the ability to push myself when I don’t really have to.

This evening, I have had half the soup, with some cheese.  Lovely bantams laid three eggs today, but I haven’t eaten any of them, which is unusual.  I often have an egg for breakfast, but it was muesli today.

Which reminds me, I popped into a supermarket yesterday, one of the main ones, because my local co-op doesn’t stock lamb’s lettuce, which I need for the Tots.  I also bought bread for the chickens – I give them soaked bread in the morning because Russell used to and it seems polite to take them an offering when I go in the run.  Yesterday, I was down to a single slice of bread, which I wanted, so I soaked them some couscous.  Nothing makes one feel more Jocasta than opening a new packet of couscous and pouring on hot water to give to chickens..  Anyway, I bought basic wholemeal for the chooks and a posh-looking pain de campagne sort of thing for me.  Darlings, it was disappointing.  I could see why it was £1.59 or something, when it would have been a couple of quid at the co-op and a lot more at the independent wholefood store.  I’d do better with branded bread if I can’t get to the bakery.

Anyway, as you can see, I’ve written a lot but I’ve said absolutely nothing.  Maybe I should try again with things on the news that have caught my eye.  Or delve into childhood again, because everyone likes that.

4 comments on “Nothing to write about

  1. xlentropy

    “We should be modest and prudent, guard against arrogance and rashness, and serve the people onion soup and fresh eggs.”

    Quotations From Chairman Z
    Chapter 17. Serving The People, Vol. III p. 253.

    PS: I bought a copy of the Little Red Book in Hong Kong in 1970.

    1. Z Post author


      I heard on the radio – it was in the car, so I didn’t get the context – an interview with someone who was asked to translate President Nixon’s speech when he was in China, when there was that great breakthrough in East/West relations. He asked for a transcription in advance and was told it would be extempore, which he knew wasn’t true – but he was told that there would be quotations, in English, from some of Chairman Mao’s poetry. Since there was no hope of getting it correct, word for word, he refused to translate and it seemed the speech went ahead without a simultaneous translation, which went down badly with Nixon at the time. However, later he acknowledged that it had been quite right not to risk the offence.

  2. tim

    It’s remarkable how you always seem to manage to translate ‘nothing’ into ‘something ‘…
    Please don’t do the news – unless it’s funny, of course. (Not a lot of that around.) Childhood stuff – yes please!

  3. Z Post author

    Oh, only quirky. As you know, I don’t do anything political or stuff like that. But I think you’re right, I’ll try to delve back into the past soon.


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