Wednesday, November 04, 2015

Wood, wool, cauliflower curry and a hare

Time for a 3BT post, plus a picture:

After weeks of procrastination, I make a phone call, leave a message and within a couple of hours, Pierre Poisson is on our doorstep and we make a date for a firewood delivery. It's a matter of some pride to hold out on winter fires, as I mentioned before, but also the business of asking for our logs is always slightly discomforting; it's a quid-pro-quo arrangement involving our land, so not clearly defined, and Pierre is not getting any younger. Now, however, it's been amicably arranged, and is another thing out of the way, and we can look forward to the fire as and when we want it.

Quessquitricote - our fortnightly knitting group meeting - is well attended these days. An odd thing is that meetings seem to have a preponderance of one particular colour, today it's the pink/red part of the spectrum. It's busy and noisy, but one by one people take up their wool and walk, and finally it's just down to Soize and myself, and her twin girls, who are never noisy. We talk about dogs and cars (and a bit of knitting) until the librarian calls that she's already locked the doors. I wonder about trying to explaining the concept of a lock-in but don't.

On the way home through the descending autumn evening and spitting rain, I'm not only looking forward to my midweek glass of wine but also to Tom trying a new cauliflower curry. It doesn't disappoint, it's simple and light, but warmly spiced and cooked just right, just beyond al dente, with the cumin seeds and oil to enrich the rice and a good home made tomato chutney. Much as I enjoy eating meat and fish, I love and crave this kind of veggie food more, I know, than Tom does, and appreciate his making the effort to prepare it.

Picture: experimenting, not altogether successfully, using the integral webcam thing on the notebook as a kind of scanner, a card with a hare from my lovely sister. Can't have too many hares.


Ellena said...

Lucky you. Answering machine kicked in. Makes the asking so much easier.
I will try this scan-thing on my tablet and maybe not because I have no idea how to get the photos to move to my laptop.

Zhoen said...

Lovely hare. Agreed, nothing like a tasty vegetarian meal.

Sabine said...

Cauli curry, just the thing for November. I'll get to it tomorrow. thanks for reminding.

Catalyst said...

I love these potpourri posts of yours.

And, by the way, tell Tom it wasn't the peanut butter that got Elvis, it was the fried bananas he ate with it! :)

Roderick Robinson said...

Is it ghoulish of me to admit that I turn to Box Elder these days with dishonourable motives - to see if I can detect signs of strain? Your commitment, of course: one a day throughout November.

As one who can pad out prose with the best I know what I'm looking for: an unwonted plethora of adjectives, descriptions of tinier and tinier domestic events, memories that may have appeared before but in slightly different form, reflections that are not really reflections but subconscious expressions of desperation, a dwindling level of imagination.

In my own defence I must say - up front - I'm not expecting to find any. Is "I don't care if Elvis did die of it (ie, peanut butter)" padding? Not at all; my criteria may be personal and impenetrable but that's an embellishment I'd willingly have used myself. Similarly with "the way it sticks to the roof of your mouth". In fact I suddenly realise there may be more evidence of padding in this comment (viz: an inordinate tendency to quote stuff written by others) than in your limpid text.

That thing about Pierre? Far from it since it touches on one of the eternal verities of life in the middle classes: the possibility that, as the employer of others, we run the risk of being eroded by embarrassment.

Je plaisante, dear friend, je plaisante.. Were I to find padding you know full well I would lie about it. Which somewhat undermines the points I've made above but I hope you can trust me on this.

Julia said...

Sounds lovely, especially the curry

Lucy said...

Thanks people.

Ellena - of course, and had I thought about it, I know that if I call at a certain time of day it will be the machine, and that makes life easier. The webcam as scanner is rather poor, though I think it might make a difference what the light in the room is like.

Z - people send me hares quite often, I'm not unhappy. Meat and fish are mostly for weekends, and we've found disconnects about veggies are often to be overcome by soup. This was a good use of cauliflower.

Sabine - yes, and this was more digestible than cauli dishes often are, I think perhaps because there was no onion involved and it contained a pinch of asafoetida.

Cat - thanks dear! I tended to think probably the bananas were about the healthiest things he ate, though the addition of sugar and frying rather offset that!

Robbie - well it is a strain, but I suppose that's rather the point. Trivia, padding and repetition are bound to prevail, which is discouraging, but if I waited for something remarkable to happen or an epiphany of imagination, I wouldn't post at all, so I'll make myself do it anyway, and try to write as decently as possible. And I appreciate the responses which, (as yours is now!) are often more interesting and provoke more to write about than the original post. Concerning Pierre, really it's the fact I'm not simply requesting his services and products (or that of his trees, which may well be our trees!) for a fee, which makes it difficult. It's an informal and goodwill arrangement, that's what I'm uncomfortable with, and as the patriarch of the local successful farming dynasty he's got the advantage over me in wealth and the social hierarchy. I frequently wish I could just get on the 'phone to a firewood merchant who is not a kind of friend/neighbour/person who uses our land. However, he is a nice man, and caring, when Tom was ill he often checked up on us, and he has a good memory and a sensitivity about personal matters. He usually brings me potatoes and leek plants but hasn't done so this year, which makes me wonder if life's catching up with him a bit. In terms of difficulties and embarrassment it's all small beer, bien sur.

Julia - it is lovely, indeed!