CROQUE MONSIEUR

 

The time difference between Australia and Wales makes for relaxed chatting a little difficult .

When it’s 8 pm gin time in Trelawnyd it’s 7am coffee time in Sydney but undaunted by this my old friend Nia arranged a meet for both of us but under the strict rules of cooking together .

I’ve never done it before and I must admit it’s great fun 

We chose to make a proper Croque Monsieur from scratch 

She in her high tech, sun kissed antipodean kitchen , me in my slightly chilly but perfectly IKEAn version. 

It was lovely, as neither of us had much news of any note to talk about, so we would share snippets of what was happening in between yells of “How’s your bechimel sauce coming along ? “

“ ohhh I can hear sizzling !”

An hour and a half later, the croques were crumbs and we were reminiscing about the fatly comical kookaburras I remembered watching in her garden only five years ago .

It was lovely 

Our next meet will be in a few weeks time. 

We are going to paint together in acrylics 

An abstract painting 

Sounds like fun

Nia ( front) with my arm around her circa 1980

The rest are my family and friends 

We were in the audience of a production of Oklahoma my Aunt was starring in 

from Going Gently https://ift.tt/39rro3N

Fool

Late on Friday afternoon. I was in the middle of preparing a lovely beef stew with green lentils and dumplings. The phone rang. It was Shirley.

She said that if I could zoom down to her health centre in the next ten minutes I would be allowed to receive my first anti-COVID vaccination. They had some unused vaccine left. I dithered for a moment and then declined. After all, I am enrolled at a different surgery and there was no guarantee that I would get the second inoculation in a few weeks' time. However, mostly I was thinking about my beef stew.

This may have been the most foolish and possibly most tragic decision of my life. I could have had the jab but I turned my back on it. What if I now contract the virus? What if I die? It could happen and I could have saved myself by grasping the vaccination offer with both hands.

On Saturday there was the possibility of a second chance but on that day the unused vaccine went to medical practitioners who were called in from their Sheffield homes - and quite right too. There was no vaccine left over for the spouses of health centre staff.

It is still very possible that by the end of this week I will have been vaccinated  - nonetheless I reflect upon that old saying - "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush". I wish I had remembered it when I was rolling dumplings in my floury palms on Friday afternoon.

What a bloody fool!

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Struggling

 Jesus 

Anxiety 

Is deep

In my soul 

And 

I’m struggling 

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My Study

 

Albert and the old bedroom

I have a spare bedroom in the East Wing of the cottage. 

It’s small and full of clutter at the moment. 

A Victorian copper bedstead and mattress , a book case, an Art Deco grandmother clock, old books, a carpet cleaner. 

This week I’ve decided to make a proper study. 

A simple one, with less fussy walls and decor.

A desk, a chair and the bed complete with an antique french bedspread , I bought last year but never used 

It’s a small room and it needs to be simple 

I need a place with limited distractions, if I am to write

So today, I’ve been shopping 

I’ve not only ordered a new phone , but a desk and an office chair

The paint I already have, the gentle buttercup yellow of the living room.

Not bad a job for my first day of holiday 

from Going Gently https://ift.tt/2K3qYrx