Spanish omelette and salad; apple pie and custard
Last night my beloved soul cat Isis came to visit me in my sleep, purring and snuggling as she always did after we’d been separated for any length of time. (Being a velcro cat, that could be as little as five minutes.) I woke with tears on my cheeks but feeling inexplicably more peaceful, a feeling that lingered for much of the day, until the afternoon grew advanced and my letter to the mortgage company still sat on the table uncollected.
A quote from Macbeth kept running through my head, the one about “if it is to be done, best if ’tis done quickly”1. On one of my periodic prolonged glances out of the living room window, looking for the postman, I noticed a small bird in the rose bush outside: a wren, said mum. Too big, I said: a sparrow? Too plain, said mum: a dunnock? Too green, we both agreed. Finally it emerged onto an external branch, showing its green-grey-brown colouring and distinctive eye stripe then, in case we were still in any doubt, opened its beak and sang its name: chiffchaff, chiffchaff, chiffchaff, chaff. You’ve got to love a bird that identifies itself.
Ornithology and postal woes (it did get collected eventually, so that’s done and irrevocable) aside, today has been a nothing sort out day. At one stage mum complained there was nothing on tv so I found a nature documentary, only for mum to promptly decide she wanted to do some gardening instead. I watched it, as it was on, and it was good: sea otters are just adorable.
Then I turned some potatoes from last night into a Spanish omelette: I took some photos but they were too dark, so I deleted them. Then I warmed up a Tesco apple pie, which we ate while watching Gladiators2, then there was a programme about musicals which is going to have me humming Maybe Next Time (from Caberet) until I finally fall asleep, and now I’m writing this while eating caramel digestives and desperately hoping tomorrow will be more interesting.
Sorry, that’s all I’ve got for today. 🤷♂️
Is it pineapple sponge today? 