Well we have settled into this lockdown stuff now. It’s almost as if we have really upset everyone and they are so miffed that they are stearing well clear.
Raised beds finished the next garden task, to board around the fruit cage I have the time, the materials and so the task began. Three hours into the challenge, timber cut to size, holes drilled, corner post holes dug, pegs cemented in, progress was indeed rapido.
My lovely wife came over the bridge with a well earned cuppa. It was in my Greggs reusable cup. My mind suddenly escaped to parol times, freely being able to walk into Greggs and purchase anything I wanted. No-one had called me a social pariah, dived for cover or being adorned in full CBRN suits to serve me a sausage buttie.
Those of you who are expert DIY people, like I, will be used to having helpful comments from the sidelines. These comments are usually preceded by terms like
“If you don’t mind me saying”.
“I’m just pointing out”.
“Did you realise”.
“Would it not be better too …”.
This list is not exhaustive but you will get the gist.
Anyway Clare, without preamble just said “Will we still be able to open the cage door”.
Not wishing go through the trauma again, three hours later I had corrected the slight miscalculation and was still at the same bloody stage – still “HOW” I had enjoyed scrabbling about on my knees sorting out my cockup.
The rest of the day went by like any normal lockdown Wednesday.
For tea we had new potatoes, broccoli and carrot batons. They are like carrot sticks just called batons. Accompanying the vegetables were Tesco crustless quiche. Kale, edame beans and other hidden stuff. I had found them in the reduced section on the abandoned fish section. They had been lurking between a curled up, shrink wrapped bit of haddock and two very skinny chicken body parts. Whilst not being a naturalist I did consider that the haddocks swimming days were over Also I mused that if you were ever to be able to reincarnate the skinny chicken bits with the rest if it’s body then the poor bird would have been incapable of movement, I swear not the parts were not built for supporting anything.
Anyway the quiche were not crustless, the just didn’t have a lid. If they had been fully encased then I assume they would have been called a pie. Why they were called crustless, only Mr Tesco will know. They were however nice and the edame beans OK. To be honest they tasted like broad beans. Perhaps genetically modified so they could be flogged for more money but more likely so they would fit into individual crustless quiche.
For pudding we had lemon drizzle cake that our friends had brought for us. In truth our own effort had not tasted too dissimilar, the main difference was that this one didn’t look regurgitated.
Another episode of Masterchef, the uplifting ten o’clock news then bedtime.
Take care and keep safe