It’s not often that I indulge myself in making something that takes a long time to prepare and then cook during the week. But on Tuesday Waitrose had swedes. This might not seem like a good reason but it was. Given we don’t eat potatoes, swedes and turnips are an excellent alternative but Waitrose seems to rarely stock them. (Of course that will all change with Brexit given swedes and turnips are possibly among the only vegetables we’ll be eating in the UK.)
Having bought the swedes and the rest of the required ingredients on Tuesday meant I didn’t have to go shopping this morning but I decided to go to Nero’s after the gym just because it’s so close. I rather wish I hadn’t.
For some reason, Nero’s was busier than usual and all the tables had been claimed. This wasn’t a problem for sitting of course, because there were lots of the comfy chairs however, it makes typing difficult so I didn’t bother writing my blog until I returned home. Still, the coffee was nice.
At least the weather was kind, unlike the bastard who decided that a footpath bend in a road was his own private parking space.
The sign is indicating a double gate leading to the Swain and Jones building site. The inconsiderate driver is parked completely on the footpath because he’s decided to park on a quite tight bend. And before anyone reading this assumes the driver was just ‘popping in’ somewhere, the car was still there over an hour later when I left the gym.
Normally I’d obscure the number plate but given he inconvenienced me, I don’t see why I shouldn’t return the favour. Besides, he’s an arsehole.
His arseholery didn’t bother me for long because I have a happy life and his is obviously not. The weather was dry (though cloudy) and the temperature set to Crisp. I walked home, chatting to Archie’s owner’s grandmother for a bit.
I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone with so many health issues. Following the hip replacement, the knee problem and the gout she now has to have a front tooth replaced with an implant because the crown she’d had years ago fell off. She now has a temporary single tooth denture and hates it.
I always feel a lot better about any affliction I have after speaking to her. Perhaps that’s her aim. If so, it’s very generous of her.
At home I set to with housework prior to lunch after which I started making a hotpot for dinner. (This is what the swede was for.)
By the time we had dinner the hotpot was melt in the mouth perfect. A success, I’d say.
I wrote a post regarding the introduction of the swede into Britain back in 2016. It’s here: Neeps and Tatties.