Memphis-style bbq chicken salad with cheese and tomato focaccia

Not much to report today. 🤷‍♂️

Mum refused to get up until late in the morning, leaving me and Suki to relax in peace together. When she did get up, it was to panic about Lady Friday’s visit this afternoon.

Around lunchtime, Suki jumped up on the bed and snuggled happily against my leg. I made the mistake of calling mum to show – look how cute Suki’s being! – and she immediately developed an agonising stomachache. I’m not saying it was connected, but I’m definitely not saying it wasn’t.

This afternoon Lady Friday came round and took mum out, leaving me the time and peace to talk to my therapist. She mentioned that she thinks I have symptoms of PTSD, which is very interesting, and confirmed my thought that me enabling mum’s “can’t you do it for me?” probably isn’t doing her any good.

[Despite that, I keep falling for it: I just had to abandon this post temporarily to go and find something sweet for mum, as despite agreeing with me what she was going to have, once she got to the kitchen she suddenly decided she didn’t know how to get it.]

When mum came back, it was laden with cakes and chocolate, which she now doesn’t want. 🙄

For dinner I cooked some marinated chicken, and simply served it with salad and focaccia. It was OK, but the tatty little bits of chicken in the pack bore very little resemblance to the big, juicy fillets pictured on the pack.

Now it’s the usual tv, supplemented by swatting flies, until I can politely retire and return to my book. Not long now.