B has just cooked us roast chicken, roast potatoes, roasted butter-nut squash, roasted red onion with thyme, peas. broccoli and onion gravy.
We await for a belly space before eating some Banoffi pie.
Jim supplied a deep, rich red wine which even I liked.
The dimmer switch has blown in the kitchen so we had ceiling lights as well as the candles.
Just the three of us, Chet Baker singing to us and the drip, drip from the rain-drops off the Clematis outside the window.
It felt like eight but it was only half five.
I am now in my pj’s, I’ve booked my armchair for the ‘X Factor’ results, and I’ve set my alarm so I can stay another night before going back to Londinium
Month: November 2009
Uncle Vanya
Just got in from ‘The Young Vic’ where the old man is in a workshop production of ‘Uncle Vanya.’ Interesting. The cast are strong. A dreadful moment when one of the actors had to cook macaroni cheese in an onstage microwave. In real time. In real space. The smell of the cooking pasta made me … Read more
Curry Up its bed time.
She’s gone.
The lodger has gone.
The girl who locked herself in my spare room has finally gone.
The funny little thing that made my life so difficult has taken her strange smell with her and gone.
Some people rub you up the wrong way she was one of them, I was in a perpetual state of cat-fur-stroked-the-wrong-way-itis. I tried to be a forgiving, decent human being but I turned into a sneidy, hissing landlady who couldn’t give her one inch, frightened that she may take a mile, now thank heavens she has gone.
She has left the room empty but not clean.
My lovely Sarah,scrubbed, hoovered, dusted, mopped, cleaned, and changed the bed clothes, it’s ready to be slept in again. I cleansed the room with a candle and some space clearing spray. I sprayed and sprayed, lit the candle, opened the windows, and the curtains – which she didn’t open for four months – and opened the door.
I have my flat back. It has been an absolute nightmare. I’m pretty sure she’ll never read this but if she does, I take total responsibility for the last few months, it was like windscreen wipers on a dry window. That squeak that gets your teeth grinding….
London Sunday
There are so many leaves around that I await the train cancellations. Sunday in London consisted of up late and a shower. A long, hot shower which went cold in the middle because Jim put the tap on in the kitchen. Then a slow drive to Borehamwood to visit ma mere. We stopped in, I … Read more