Curry & Bluebell



 I often show my affection through food
I’ve told you this before
I know I’m a “ feeder” although I don’t like that epithet per se
It always sounds a bit seedy to me.

I’m off today , back on Friday/Sat so I got up early and made a lamb curry and saag aloo from scratch.
Half I put in the freezer and the other half I boxed up in plastic containers. 
I filled another smaller container with raspberries and took all three to a terribly dirty Bluebell and drove down to the North Wales coast road to Flint.
The coast road used to be the main thoroughfare into and from North Wales and it is now defunct and terribly depressing. Former businesses that once hung on because of the traffic are all sold, boarded up and derelict.
The objective of my trip was just to leave the food on the doorstep of a friend . She has just lost her 30 year old son to covid and I think food can sometimes say more than words can ever can .
Words can sound so puny when grief is overwhelming.
In the end my friend opened the door as soon as I crept up the path, she had noticed and recognised Bluebell’s distinctive colour as it flashed by her kitchen window.

I found a jet wash on the way home and spent a lovely and very therapeutic half hour , cleaning and shampooing and buffing and polishing Bluebell until she shone with the power of Daniel Craig’s eyes 
My friend’s grief , desperately hidden behind smiles and laughs was a heavy thing to witness and mindless cleaning can wipe the psychi clean too.

I stopped at a pet store before I got to Trelawnyd and bought Dorothy a new harness.
I ordered a light gravel to cover the patio and picked up some film magazines as a treat 
The cottage still smelt of curry when I got home 




from Going Gently https://ift.tt/3GO8HXx

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