Air guitar on a wooden spoon

Well we are onto Thursday and it has been a strange week so far. Work doesn’t really impinge into these posts it but has been hovering in the back ground more than normal over the last few days. We’ll have to see what the next week or so brings.

In the meantime I am still spending time staring at my book about mackerel and thinking about defenestration. There is a temptation to try a bit of cut up technique at it and throw all the pages up in the air and see how they land before putting them back together. It needs a new beginning, middle and end and I am not sure if having the man with the black beard whispering in my ear as I go through it is going to help or hinder the process. Thoughts anyone?

In the meantime Galen and I went for a change and ate from Delifonseca for our late tea. I had to spend the early part of the evening shuffling through a parents evening becoming increasing embarrassed  as seemingly endless praise was heaped on younger daughter. Most of the teachers gave the impression that this was the child they always wanted and one of them even muttered about adoption.I was congratulated on having done such a good job and was obliged to point out that I always took the view that a ‘hands off’ approach was best and that it was nothing to do with me.

Delefonseca provided a small piece of pancetta, three chorizo sausages and a glass jar of lentils. These were all cooked together in olive oil with a piece of onion and carrot. It did for us both.

After we ate Galen had a shower and I pranced round the kitchen playing slide guitar on a wooden spoon to Duane Allman. Is there a time when a man should get too old for that sort of thing?

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