Friday 30th March 2018

Yesterday, despite being a holiday, I felt a little flat. So, apologies for the short but sweet posts written yesterday, but I really did not feel up to much to be honest. But nothing to worry about, just need to get my head straight, and it won't be until next week I will know if I am worrying over nothing.

East comes round every year, though on a different day each year. The actual date of Easter can vary by 27 days, from the 22nd March to 21st April. Or is that 30 days? Or 31 days? No, I think I was right, 27 days, the length of the solar month. Anyways, having Easter at the end of March isn't as early as it might be, but it feels early, and with the weather so chilly, it feels more like February.

When we looked at the forecast for the weekend on Thursday, it suggested much rain, wind very little sunshine. We look forward to time off for so long, and then the weather is like this. Well, it can change, and we hope so as Monday is supposed to be 24 hours of continuous rain. People still go away whatever date Easter is, and whatever the weather, and will have a great time whatever, goddammit.

No shops open, so no rushing out to go to Tesco, but instead, rushing around making saffron buns.

Growing up, Mum used to make saffron buns, but not like I make now, but made with saffron infused flour. I loved the flavour, and the saffron buns made were Dad's favourite. Little did I know that Lowestoft was for many years, England's second largest saffron producing areas, and this year someone has started up the saffron flour business again. I have to say, the ones I make, with yeast and bread flour are much better, much more flavoursome than what Mum used to make. Something about the way the saffron and yeast work together.

After coffee, I melt the butter on a low heat with milk and sugar, put the dry ingredients in a bow. And combine, knead and let to prove.

A few days ago, I had seen a small colony of Coltsfoot growing on Jubilee Way, and with rain forecast all afternoon and most of the morning, I go to investigate, parking on the road leading to RAF Swingate. I realise it is early, half eight, too early it seems for Coltsfoot, as once I had found them among the piles of trash thrown from traffic as it approaches the port, I find the all unopened, or closed, waiting for warmer weather and/or the sun. I will have to return another warmer day.

Back home and Jools is working in the garden, I help in weeding then dig huge holes for the dahlias we have been storing in the shed. These we plant in the lower bed, between the frits, and soon hope to see them shooting through the rich soil.

I go back inside, knead the dough down and make eight buns and place them on greased baking sheets, and leave them to rise again. At half eleven, I put the first batch in the oven and wait for the wonderful smells of baking yeast and saffron to fill the house.

One batch done, I put the second one in, and by the time they're golden brown, the first are cool enough to break open, smother with butter and eat with a huge brew. And you know, they were as good as that sounds.

Midway through the afternoon we have a reprise of another bun and another brew. By that time, Norwich had kicked off, and I listened as City struggled against Fulham. Over the years Norwich have had many "bogy" sides who we never seem to win against; Manchester City, Coventry and Fulham. I have seen us beat the other two, but our winless run against the Cottagers goes back several centuries, or seems like it. And yesterday was no different; second best in the first half, better in the 2nd, but concede two in two minutes from defensive lapses.

Bah.

I do a session on the cross trainer, then back downstairs to begin preparing dinner; chorizo hash, whilst Jools does her session.

I spend the evening in front of the TV; the final of Mastermind. Sorry, Grand Final. Then the Don in his garden.