Thursday 20th January 2022

As I have remarked many times, days during the week are pretty much the same. Small details change, like what I do at work, but the rest; getting up, coffee, set up the office, log on, have breakfast and so on and on, never really change that month.

Looking back, the last time I travelled to Denmark was in February 2020, just before the war began. I worked for a different company, had a different boss, but had clear roles, resposibilities and objectives. Two years on I might actually have a role title and a lukewarm promise of more of the same, or what I did last year, which all a bit unfocussed if I'm honest.

Anyway.

You know me, I write about all sorts of mundane shit, the weather sometimes. Well, we have had almost no rain so far this year, and not much wind. Just lots of sunshine, which give way to frosty nights. But really very little rain, and not that much rain in December either. The autumn storms that we usually get, arrived early, in August, then although we had windy days, but the week on week of storms we usually get.

All very odd. Spring bulbs are sprouting, but then they do, although no daffodils or dwarf iris seen yet in flower, and no sign of the winter aconites I planted this time last year. I search each morning for flowers, for signs of spring. None so far, and no spawn in the pond.

In fact, I might be going to Denmark next month, we shall see. I have a super top secret job to do, along with my colleague Frank, and I would need to be there in person. You can't steal diamonds by Teams, apparently.

Thursday was another day spent reviewing documents. More and more come into scope, each one written by the same person, and each on a contradictory word salad. I mean its written in my language, but I don't understand it. God knows how anyone else does.

Through the morning I have toast, fruit, more toast. Scrambled eggs on toast that is, for lunch. One egg and one small slice of toast. Hit the spot.

I know I really should have gone for a walk, so once the day was done at half three, I put on my boots and grab a camera or two. Not much choice of a way to go, so I walk along the street, up to Collingwood and then along to Fleet House.

I see a few dog walkers, some people walking without dogs too. One gentleman walking a pony.

As you do.

I walk back home along the lane into the light of the setting sun. It was getting chilly again.

Dinner was to finish the gumbo. So, first up was to make 2 litres of chicken stock (from cubes), cook the chicken and smoked sausage, soft fry the onions and then wait for Jools who had got the vegetables and prawns.

Once she got home, I chopped the vegetables and Jools stirred the roux into the stock. All gets added into the stock, along with cajun spices, and after half an hour, we put the prawns in to finish it off. A pot of rice has been cooking at the same time, I drain the rice, serve, and we retire to the table with a glass of wine each.

Cheers.

It was rather good, but the cajun spice (bought in Texas) is too salty, so I am looking into making my own next time, seems easy enough.

Anyway, it all goes down very well, and there's more than enough to have leftovers on Friday.

There is football on the tellybox. League Cup, Are v Liverpool. Should have been a good game, but was quite disappointing, even with their best two players missing, Liverpool were too good and ran out easy 2-0 winners. I had drunk most of a bottle of sloe port watching it, so when I went to bed at ten, I slept well.