Beans, oysters, crab, lobster and lemon meringue pie

I was almost home from the shops when a woman that I swear I’ve never seen before said good morning then, with a glint of recognition in her eye said she hardly recognised me. Before I could protest that she was a complete stranger, she said it was my MAGNIFICENT beard. That was the word she used. MAGNIFICENT. At that point, anything else from me was unnecessary.

Waitrose was a bit like a morgue this morning. The effect of having frightened old people, wandering around in masks and gloves is one of standoffishness. There is no social exchange at all.

Well, that’s not entirely true. I met Debbie in the dairy aisle and we did socially exchange though it was mostly about how we felt bereft of any meaningful social exchange with only our eyes on show.

It occurred to me later how amazing humans can be at recognition. While I didn’t recognise the woman who thinks my beard is MAGNIFICENT, I instantly recognised Debbie who only had her eyes showing. For Debbie it was easier given my hat wearing habit, my shorts and t-shirt combo and my flappy gait. (She didn’t mention my beard which is not surprising given my bandana was covering it.)

Back at home, following a day of various household tasks, I cooked an early dinner (pollo al chilindron, which is becoming a bit of a favourite) in order to free us up for the walk to Upper Hale. The necessary walk to Upper Hale in order to make the puppies velvety smooth again.

Freya was not keen but, I told her, the choice was out of her paws. I managed to bribe Emma by promising to take the Flicka-stik on the walk up to Kate.

Back at home, having left the girls to their fate, I heated up dinner and we enjoyed a delightful meal al fresco without dogs. That sounds like it was a good thing but it never is.

While on the subject of food, sometime during the day I spotted a question on Twitter. Normally, when someone asks something like ‘Name you three favourite moments in American sitcoms’ or ‘list your favourite artificial pools of water’ I just flick by and ignore them. However, this question begged an answer.

I responded with my five: beans, oysters, crab, lobster and lemon meringue pie to which Citizen Jones said was his breakfast. Nicktor, on the hand, called me a weirdo for not liking lemon meringue pie.

Ignoring the fact that I could call Nicktor a weirdo for not liking olives, I have never enjoyed sour things. The incident with the lemon tart is often repeated by my in-laws and Nicole may just remember my reaction to those sour sweets she told me were sweet. Lemon meringue pie, while a combination of sweet and sour, is still too tart for me.

So, I’ll just finish with the assertion that I am #notaweirdo and include a photo of our view for dinner tonight. Sans dogs.

This entry was posted in Gary's Posts. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.