We’re enjoying fabulous weather with temperatures in the mid twenties centigrade; warm without being enervatingly hot. I should be quite happy if the mercury rose no higher. I’m eating lots of salad and fresh fruit. My current addiction is spiralised courgette and carrot with chickpeas or butterbeans in a mustard vinaigrette. I eat it almost every day, along with lettuce or raw baby spinach. It’s tasty and really satisfying. Today there was added excitement of freshly cooked beetroot. My other current addiction is miniature gherkins. I keep meaning to look up what nutritional value the have.
An ad for an Audible book keeps flashing on my ‘phone. It’s called Food is Not Medicine. Maybe not, but surely a good diet is in some way medicinal. I should probably get the dictionary out to check the meaning of medicine. I am thinking about this because my wound is healing marvellously well. There’s one crusty looking bit at the edge, and the whole thing is rather pink, but I am both reassured and relieved. I do have the suggestion of a dart or pleat at either end, but I can live with that. The rate of healing seems quick, and at the hospital nurses and doctors have commented on it. Has my diet contributed to this? Answers on a postcard or in the comments box please.
I have started looking at flights to and from Belfast after first Celia, then B&J said they thought between them they could cover my absence. Helena also said she might be able to help. All are people MasterB knows and likes. Before I actually make the booking I need to double check with all of them as it would obviously never do if they all had commitments elsewhere at the same time. I fully expect Celia to be away a great deal, catching up on missed time with grandchildren.
There’s also the R rate to consider. It is rising daily and there is talk of a third wave. If we have to have another lockdown I may cry. Though I’d prefer that to seeing the number of positive cases rise and rise. CI watched and even listened to Boris Johnson on the news tonight. He kept talking but said very little, although enough for an evidently frustrated doctor interviewed afterwards to point out he was talking nonsense. The man is a dangerous liability. There’s also the fiasco over goods imported into NI from GB. This was on the cards from the beginning, or before the beginning if you count the lead up to the Referendum. Perhaps of all the lies told by the Leave campaign this is the most serious. The liar in chief was the present Prime Minister, and he is still the liar in chief now. Interesting that members of the government are blaming the EU for its stance. This was the agreement, oven ready you will recall, that the British government signed up to. Had we remained in the EU we would still be trading freely with our neighbours and not hearing the ludicrous Ms Truss bigging up mediocre trade deals anyone with half a brain can see are not a patch on what we had before. Five years on and the pain of that result still feels like a blow to the heart.
So thank goodness for books and cats. Yesterday evening B, J and I met in the garden. We were joined immediately by Hartley who enjoyed an extensive grooming session with J. Then he lay on the ground near us. He just loves being where people are. Romeo checked us out briefly, watched then chased a bee, and disappeared to continue his evening elsewhere. Helena also joined us for a while. She has been having a perfectly bloody time, and we have barely set eyes on her of late.
I have a stack of good books but so far I haven’t decided on which one to read. Which is the right one for now? I have work to tackle tomorrow so in a way I don’t want to be too engrossed. My jigsaw is nearly complete. MasterB helps by sitting or lying on it. He’s a very attentive boy.
Anyway, I see it is now passed ten thirty, and I need to get to bed.
Stay safe. Keep well. Eat salad.