Conversation in my kitchen this evening.
Housemate: What are you having for dinner?
Me: *dishing up* Oh tomato-veg-pasta with chorizo… chorizo…
Me: FORGOT THE CHORIZO *returns dinner to pan, chops chorizo, adds chorizo, swearing*
The above kind of sums up today which has been a bit of an unday. I haven’t quite been able to get started, surviving in four hour bursts from one dose of painkillers to the next. So I’m writing the rest of it off and curling up in bed with Mr Chaplin, Mrs Swinburne et al. I urge you all to go forth and watch Alan Plater’s Beiderbecke Trilogy (the Affair, the Tapes and the Connection) possibly instantly.
Normal service will be resumed soon when I will be back with more successful culinary tales and probably a thing or two about knitting. Woe, it is very much me.