Ahead of COP26, a bunch of powerful people flew to Rome in order to talk about what they are going to do about all manner of things, mostly to do with us, the plebs. In order to be at this incredibly important meeting, they had to burn off a lot of fuel. After all, you can’t expect them to travel alongside the ordinary people they claim to represent. Then, tomorrow, they will all jet off to the same destination, Glasgow.
In the meanwhilst, this incredibly powerful piece was written by George Monbiot and published in today’s Guardian. Everyone should read it and stop being so bloody obedient.
Things were a little more easy going here, in Farnham. There was the torrential rain first thing, of course but that was soon replaced by sun and blue sky. Good, I thought, the washing machine delivery should go well then.
I ordered a new machine last week to replace our old, almost dead one. I was texted on Thursday saying it would arrive between 10 and 12 this morning. Then, as I lay on the lounge, covered with cockerpoos, I received another text informing me that the machine wasn’t at the right place so the delivery would have to be rearranged.
In one respect, this was really annoying. However, it did mean I could go to the Holly Bush for brunch. Originally, Mirinda was going to go with the girls then take a walk while I welcomed the new addition to our house. Now, unexpectedly free, I joined them, sitting outside, enjoying the usual delight that is the Holly Bush brunch.
While we were alone outside, we let the girls roam around free. They’ve been there so many times that they think it’s another home. And the staff is very dog friendly and happily pat them whenever they come out to serve us.
Of course, we weren’t alone for long. One big group arrived, accompanied by Lyra Lollipop, a bundle of pink fluff with a little inquisitive face poking out of a furry onsie. This group changed tables three times while we were there. I was going to offer them ours but figured they would no doubt swap to it eventually anyway.
Later, as she returned from their walk, Mirinda spotted this group. Two of the group were totally inebriated as they tried to walk around the cricket pitch at Frensham. Lyra was nowhere to be seen, so I’m guessing she didn’t imbibe.
Obviously, there was no cricket. I sat, in one of the folding chairs, overlooking the pitch, reading for two hours while Mirinda covered the girls in mud. It was very pleasant.
Both I mean. The dogs obviously loved getting muddy. Speaking of which, the little boots in the photo above were claimed by a couple who were encouraging their daughter to change from her car shoes to something a little more wet proof. She was saying how she couldn’t find her boots. When asked when she last had them she said, yesterday.
The mother walked across to the bench beside me and, lifting up the pair on the chair declared she’d found them. As she turned them upside down, gushes of water from the morning’s rain, poured out. The daughter was not going to have very dry feet.
Having completed her two hour walk, Mirinda bundled the girls into the car and we all went home. I then bundled the girls into the laundry sink and hosed them down.
We’re having Sarah and Nick over for lunch in a few weeks and I wanted to try a couple of new dishes. This means a test run. So, I spent the rest of the afternoon preparing the two dishes I’ve decided on.
The celeriac soup worked beautifully and is a definite. The cauliflower muffins were a bit of a failure for a number of reasons and, therefore, will not be included. I’m going to go with the old Camembert parcels, something I’ve made many, many times before. As Mirinda pointed out, this is exactly why guests should never be guinea pigs.
Changing the subject, today’s snowy window art is a parent and child scene on the new yoghurt shop window.
