I had a pack, actually, two packs, of Young’s frozen ‘fish’ and chips for my dinner last night and I wish I hadn’t. About as far away from a proper dish of fish and chips as it’s possible to imagine. Cheap, but even so I can’t recommend it.
Tonight it’s spaghetti bolognese and tomorrow it’ll be chicken breasts in a nice creamy garlic sauce.
Just now I’m trying to decide if a small bowl of cornflakes drenched in ice-cold skimmed milk (no sugar) will do me for breakfast or if I ought to get the frying pans out and do myself a good egg-bacon-tomato fry-up as compensation for a rainy day. Used to be I’d have cornflakes followed by a fry-up and finished with toast, marmalade, and a fresh pot of coffee but those days seem to have slipped away from me.
Dolly came to sit by me in the open kitchen doorway just now, sniffed the rain, and stole silently away to her comfy day-time nest on the spare bed. When she wakes up she’ll want her breakfast, too, but she’s easy to please. One small helping of tuna flakes and a side-order of crispy-crunchy biscuit, washed down with a long slurp of water from the kitchen tap. Anything else would trigger a feline revolution, not to be taken lightly, not at all. When Dolly does a feline revolution it pays to be afraid. Really quite afraid.
I have a small pile of laundry to do, and the living-room carpet needs to be vacuumed in depth. We still have carpet, to be replaced either this winter or next with nice warm cork flooring. I can’t wait.
I shall avoid the news today. Had enough of news yesterday and the day before to last me a good long while.
Hey ho. On with the motley. Or perhaps a coffee first. One more for the motley, and one more for the road.
