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I had quite the productive morning today. Yesterday, Mirinda went over to Nicoline’s and picked a big bag of apples and today, having bought a load of tomatoes, I made some apple and tomato chutney. I was going to make more but ran out of vinegar and couldn’t be bothered walking back to the ICA again.
Apart from anything else, the weather was a bit grim for most of the day. I had already walked through it once, as I walked to the ICA and didn’t really feel like a second turn. In fact, I had a brief chat about it with Stefan as we met halfway through the woods.
It reminded me of my many walks into Farnham when I would encounter familiar faces and words exchanged would almost always, inevitably be concerned with the weather. In fact, the English pride themselves on their ability to happily talk to complete strangers as long as the subject is the weather.
Then, at the check-out, I was chatting to Sara as she scanned my shopping and, with a glance out of the windows, she commented on the rain and the advent of Autumn. And the appearance of mud everywhere.
She said that when she picked her daughter up from pre-school yesterday, her runners were so muddy that Sara threw her daughter into the shower still wearing the shoes and washed all three at the same time. (That’ll be the daughter and her two shoes.)
Back in the kitchen, I also made a batch of the courgette waffles for lunch which were enjoyed with great enthusiasm by my wife. They were particularly nice with avocado and feta cheese on top. She asked for them to be included in the lunchtime rotation.
After lunch, Mirinda headed into Stockholm for a Gathering with her environmental chums; the ones from the Retreat. After doing a bit of essential administration, and washing up, I settled down for some delightful snooker at the English Open.
While Mark Selby had a bit of a wobbly first round match against a prowling Ricky Walden (4-3), Judd Trump trounced poor Jordan Brown (4-0). Jordan spent very little time at the table as Trump took every opportunity to pot as many balls as were on the table.
It was more like Trump was practicing for the later rounds rather than playing an opponent. I mean, Brown might just as well have stayed in the dressing room for all the table time he managed to get.
I spotted the always entertaining Mark Williams at a nearby table, sporting an impressive beard, very much like mine. I wonder it doesn’t get in the way of his cue action.
And, unusually, Mirinda didn’t get home until after the Trump v Brown match had finished.
Huzzah!
