Sunday 22 November 2015

Sunday 22nd November 2015

Saturday

Another morning when I awake before six. But the room is colder, winter is here. However, the threat of snow has no receded, so the task of the day is to keep warm. But like most weeks the task for the day, first task for the day, is shopping. Well, after coffee.

Sainsbury's, like all supermarkets at quarter past seven on a Saturday morning, is a place for people of a certain age who don't lay in bed any more and want to save the rest of the day for something else. We get dressed, grab a few shopping bags, we always have done this, but now there being a 5p charge now has not brought the end of western civilisation. We made no list, but go round swiping stuff off the shelves, and soon enough had over fifty quids worth of stuff, including a selection of party food to have that evening as we sat on the sofa watching the end of The Bridge.

We do buy a pack of smoked streaky bacon for breakfast, because it seems weeks since we had bacon. And once back home Jools puts the shopping away and I cook bacon.

And there is no avoiding Christmas, it is the third week in November, and so we have to place our order with the butcher, which will mean a drive over to Preston. The plan had been to go to Herne Bay afterwards as the wond was in the north east and so the storm-force winds should have been battering the north Kent coast. But due to the fact there was also to be much rain too, we decided not to go to the coast after all, so it was just the butchers and back. Saying that, alternating between bright sunshine, jet black clouds and then torrential rain, and country lanes full of overflowing puddles made the trip interesting to say the least.

The boys are in good spirits, and busy. So I order our stuff, and it being Jools' birthday on Monday, buy some steaks. And some pork pies. And so cheese. And sausages.

Back home through yet more sunshine and heavy showers, to make some saffron buns, what with it being so near Easter and all that. There is something wonderful about the mix of smells of rising bread and saffron, it really is magical. And once in the oven to bake, it really is irresistible. But we have to wait for them to cool, but something as wonderful as still-warm saffron buns deserve a really good large cup of tea. And with the Man Utd game v Watford on the radio in the background, we make two large buns disappear.

Those of you who know me will not be surprised to find out that I then lay on the sofa to listen to the game, and so managed to sleep through most of the second half. And then comes the main event of the afternoon: Chelski v Norwich on the wireless. Although, of course, its not in the slightest relaxing, as Chelsea play very well without scoring in the 1st half. One lapse of concentration allowed SCosta one on one with Ruddy, and the ball was in the back of the net. And that was that.

And at five, we began the long slog of the final three episodes of The Bridge. After watching episode 8, and putting in the final disc, we find there are just two more, which we watch with Dr Who sandwiched between the Nordic Noir. And that brought us to half ten, and half the weekend already gone.

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