There are not many rooms in the home where I exude domestic confidence.
I am fantastic in the bedroom – one of the best sleepers around these parts – but my DIY skills are average, dusting to me seems largely pointless (besides the children like playing it) and the kitchen has always found me in want of any culinary prowess.
It is down to confidence, apathy and not wanting to spend ages making something only to add the wrong ingredient and ruin the whole thing. Also, I eat a lot of meat and am often stumped by a dish which doesn’t contain any, so I make no apology for an incredulous response if offered anything that has been anywhere near a lentil and/or more than two other vegetables at any one time. What the hell were you thinking?
Unfortunately, I am grown, aging man with children to feed and can’t continue to live on a haribo-based diet. Whilst I’m not going to cut out the treats entirely, I do need to up my game to ensure that we are all eating some good stuff too and reducing our sugar intake.
In advance of their arrival tomorrow, tonight I made a pasta bake from scratch which includes salmon, mascarpone, tomatoes and pesto. It was an absolute doddle and the bit I set aside for my tea tonight was really delicious. Apparently, I can follow a recipe and can also use a smoothie maker to create breadcrumbs.
The actual process of putting a decent meal together was quite enjoyable too even one without any meat – I am looking forward to piscine about in the kitchen more.
As for reflections on being one year on from the first lockdown, what words are there to describe the loss of over 126,000 lives in this country and all the other lives that have been directly impacted by those losses? I don’t have them, save for a scant few to acknowledge the fact.
Yvonne left me another daffodil on the doorstep. I mean, that’s just littering now isn’t it?