It’s Wednesday and the middle of the week already. Unusually this week seems to be flowing along quite nicely. And it’s a short week too due to the forthcoming Easter break. Which means an extended weekend of doing absolutely nothing. I remember when that sentence was a good thing.
I was inspired by a friend’s earlier post to organise my herbs and spices cupboard today. Couldn’t decide whether to sort them alphabetically or arrange them within cuisine (i.e. Italian herbs, Indian spices etc.). Sorting them alphabetically throws up a dilemma – should that be by their English name or the Spanish translation? But then arranging them into cuisine groups will always be complicated by one or two super versatile herbs and spices that happily span several cuisine types, which would completely mess up my categorisation.
After way too much deliberation than can be considered normal, I concluded that I really do need to get out much more often. And there you have the absolute definitive definition of Irony.
Knocking that idea on the head I called my sister in the UK instead. Great catching up with her, chatting about what we’ve been up to recently (me, very little. She, not much either) and learning about each other’s holiday plans. Now all cancelled for the foreseeable future. It was lovely to hear her voice and as pointless conversations go, this one was definitely my favourite for a long while.
The rest of the day was not as nearly as exciting.
After last weeks desperate plea for takeaways that will deliver to La Torre, several people came to our rescue with helpful suggestions and today we excitedly placed a, slightly embarrassingly large, order with a not so local Indian restaurant! Unfortunately, they are limiting their delivery days and you must order well in advance. We’re now eagerly counting down the hours and minutes until 7pm Sunday evening when we will enjoy an nontraditional Easter Day supper, and our first non-home cooked one in four weeks. It really doesn’t sound that bad when you say it like that. I love cooking and will happily make the family dinner every evening, but it’s amazing just how much you miss something when you’re told you can’t have it.
72 hours, 43 minutes 'til Curry Fest.
I think that makes it four weeks. And at least another two to go.
But more importantly, it’s now 53 hours, 18 minutes 'til Curry Fest.
I love reading the more positive coronavirus related stories. From reports of crystal clear waters in the canals of Venice to the dramatic falls in pollution levels in major cities. Maybe we should make the lockdown an annual event? Once a year, just for one week we close all the shops, nobody works and we all stay indoors and spend time with the family. I think they used to call that Christmas.
But I sometimes wonder if Spain just didn’t get the memo. Since the lockdown, the warm, bright, sun, which used to make an almost daily appearance, has been as rare as an Uber Eats delivery guy in these parts. Cloudy, overcast days have become the new norm recently.
But not today. Today has been a good day. A Good Friday. A good lockdown day.
As is expected on a bank holiday, we completed a few tasks around the house and garden with Jo undertaking a spot of pruning, albeit Spanish style, before enjoying the welcomed sunshine. It was the first pool day of the year. Well, first pool day of the year for the crazy kid; I’m not getting in there for a while yet. We relaxed, chilled and cooked and ate alfresco.
Lockdown? I reckon I could get used to this.
Wishing you all a very happy and safe Easter.