Breakfast of champions
...egg, banana and linseed. Sounds like something my mother might have whipped up for breakfast in the 1970s on one of her weird diets. Except that, 50 years on, it's her that's eating Nestle breakfast cereal and me that's about to make a banana pancake! At least my egg is about to be cooked. My mother's concoctions were raw.
I could have done with a lie in this morning, what with it being school holidays, but I was booked to make vaccination phone calls at the surgery. This time I got a room and a phone of my own and was able to plough through the alphabet backwards from Z to Wa...(unfortunately the only customer with a surname beginning with Z was permanently engaged).
At 12.20 I headed off to meet friend Dave off the train from Cheltenham. I hadn't seen him for five weeks, and was shocked at the change. He has gained weight and looks a bit like Paddington Bear, somewhat lost in the new emerging-from-lockdown world.
We did some food shopping and went to find a courtyard where we could eat in the tepid sunshine. I met some poets there whom I hadn't seen for a year or so, because of the lockdowns. Dave enjoyed his falafels and the tapenade I'd made. I bought some chocolate, avocado and nut pie from the cafe, before realising I can't eat more than 1/8 avocado, very few nuts, and no chocolate! Dave had most of it. The bit that I tasted was delicious.
Attempts at strolling around town were mostly disastrous. Dave can hardly walk without becoming breathless. I don't know if it's long CoVid, his recent weight gain, or the fact that he hardly goes out now without the car, so is out of shape, but it's worrying. The afternoon passed slowly, with many rest stops. Dave says he will ring the doctor tomorrow.
I walked home afterwards, and have been resting ever since. A new book, a cat on my lap, a whole free day ahead of me: bliss!