Big T took his first foray into baking and made flapjack for the first time ever!
I haven’t had flapjack for many years so it was a bit of a treat.
But even better was the invention of Mr and Mrs Morris’ Millionaire’s Flapjack where we microwaved a square of Lindt dark chocolate with sea salt on top of a square of oats and golden syrup.
It was an invention of pure decadent deliciousness and if times get really tough we have a new product to bring to the market!
And to top it all off, there’s no more glitter for Christmas. Single use tiny bits of plastic have been banned.
All the sparkle’s gone… literally!
Or perhaps it should be Tiers for Fears?!
Today was the day we became Tier 2. There are three tiers: shit, shitter and really shit. As we’re Tier 2, we’re in Shitter so let’s hope we don’t go up to Really Shit.
And so London Lockdown begins again but this time it’s so much more confusing.
As far as we can tell, we can’t meet with any other household inside a building, we (our household) can go to pubs or restaurants but we can’t meet up with anyone and we can go outside with a group of six people. Confused? Yes, apparently so is the rest of the UK.
The other question is, what the fuck is a bubble? It used to be so easy to answer, a bubble was just a bubble, now it involves a household with only one adult.
And so, just like that, gone are our Sunday lunch plans with family where I was planning to cook confit de canard (I think I’ll make it anyway). gone are holidays, weekends away and Halloween was cancelled a long time ago. Boo!
And as for Christmas, I imagine that will be just another day of isolation watching yet another bloody box set.
So the only thing to do is stay warm, eat well and try to stay sane for the foreseeable future.
And be glad we’re not in Manchester!
You’re upset when you lose your favourite face mask and you’re actually pleased when you find it.
This is 2020!
It’s been hard to get a routine organised over the past six months. Cycling to work gave me a structure that I haven’t been able to match. I left for work at 9am and came home at 6:30pm. There were clear boundaries and my work didn’t intrude much beyond those hours.
Working from home since March has meant “flexible working” which basically means that you’re never offline. Without the boundaries and with people worrying about job security, there’s a fierce competition about who can look the busiest and be most essential to the business. I recently heard the term “land grabbing” which pretty much summed it up.
Returning now for the winter, I am determined to get more structure into my day and so this morning I used my half an hour cycle time to do yoga in the little bedroom. I closed the door so Agnes was unable to plonk her furry self in the middle of my mat and spent thirty minutes doing basic poses to get moving physically and slow down mentally. I think it helped but why it’s taken me six months to discipline myself to do this is a mystery!
Let’s see what happens tomorrow!
It seems like it’s raining everywhere.
The South of France has been decimated by torrential storms over the past few days. Luckily the house is ok (even the roof which is a bit of a miracle) and London had seven solid days of rain which meant we started working our way through the entire Hitchcock catalogue for something to watch. Wellies are on and flip flops are packed away.
It’s fair to say we’re all still transitioning as Agnes gets up at 6am asking to go in the garden and then wonders why she can’t and we’re all a little bit cold as our heavy winter clothes are already out of boxes, the heating is on and summer seems like a distant memory!
We’ve decided to think like Scandinavians and go out whatever the weather otherwise we won’t leave the house until next summer even without lockdown.
2020, the fun continues!