Well, I did another dodgy sketch and started to get some ideas for Christmas cards which will not be revealed (they are too crap just now) until much nearer the event. Those whose details I have will receive one (you know who you are).
Using the chicken stock, and adding half a chorizo sliced thinly, onion, garlic, bay leaves and rosemary, plus a little parsley, I have started a soup. I also stuck some nettles in from the garden - good thing I don't use fertilisers, weedkillers etc. Inspecting this, I may add some pulses, maybe beans of various kinds or lentils, and a little tomato puree to beef it up, but I have to say it tastes fine as it is. With some Lithuanian black bread from the new shop in E & C, it will make a substantial meal.
Anyway, Dorothy rang rather crossly to complain about my texting and suggesting I may need psychiatric help with this. Admittedly I did text twice. Then Dorothy was so cross that I actually forgot what I meant to say. Never mind, Dorothy is going to Spain today for some much needed R & R. Having worked as a medical secretary to leading psychiatrists in most of the London teaching hospitals in my youth, I somehow doubt whether most are able to tie their shoelaces, let alone deal with any very complex issues I may or may not have. Anyway...... onwards and upwards.
This morning I shall purchase some more black bread, and possibly leave a book at the Elephant & Castle - I have chosen 'The Stray Sod Country' by Patrick McCabe. It's a bit hard for an Englishwoman to get into all that Irishness, (I was for a while a convent girl in Torquay, full of Irish nuns, so that helped,) but I persisted and it is very rewarding, if a tad dark. I would venture to say that it is a great book, even. I shall stick my Observer book sticker on this one, and then stick my own ones on future books I leave around.
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