And I haven’t been here in nearly a year, I think. It’s a cloudy Sunday morning with a steaming cafetiere by my elbow, angry Roger Waters is singing about a hotel room overlooking the Rhine, and I’m actually trying to write a post on my phone. What to say?
I’ve put Jürgen and Molly, the rabbits, up on the lawn in their runs and they are eyeing each other, one fearfully and the other with hostility, across the small stretch of grass which separates them. He’s been chopped but she’s not been spayed yet, and if she gets near him she tries to hump his face; the last time they were loose together he ripped her skin open while trying to get her crotch out of his face and we made Sztefan the vet a very rich man in return for some purple stitches and a small bottle of antiseptic wash. But they’re sweet animals.
Problem 1 with writing on a phone: predictive text assumes that plurals should be possessives so I have to keep going back to delete apostrophes. Damn you Samsung, my heart still belongs to Nokia.
I still have my shop with its endless parade of fascinating, infuriating and wonderful people and constant minor crises. I had to shut for a day the other week for the installation of a new walk in freezer room to replace the old one, and there were scenes of tearfulness and disbelief. It’s good to know that some people see you as the only reason for coming into town. I was told that my shop is the rock that holds the High Street down, I was called the Anchor of the town centre. I hope the word was anchor, anyway. Ooh er missus.
I am going to Berlin for a week in November, my first time in Germany since 1973 when I spent a month in a small village in the South Harz mountains on a school exchange. I remember the food, the people and the schnapps with much fondness and look forward to it. Anita has an uncle living in the city so we will be paying a surprise visit there. All good.
Thinking of Christmas, our granddaughter Jess has been reading about Anne Frank so I decided that it would be nice to take her to Amsterdam to see the Anne Frank house museum, so half term in February will be a good time for that. Christmas morning she’ll open a small present of a berlitz Amsterdam guidebook with a date inscribed inside the front cover. Good old easyJet city breaks. Where would we be without them?
So that’s my life, such as it is, at the moment. An island of banality in the flow of eventfulness that is human experience.
I’ve long been a fan of the writings of the late Patrick Leigh Fermor, and have always admired the tolerance displayed by his wife Joan. Her biography was published recently and I have for the first time seen a photograph of her as a young woman. Have you ever seen a photo of someone that actually made your heart leap? I have now. Just saying, as they say.
Today for dinner I’m making something with pork loin steaks. I don’t know what yet. I was given some lovely ripe figs yesterday so I’ll be making a honey-soaked fig and franzipan tart with them. A beacon of certainty in the mist of indecision, that’s my fig tart.
Problem 2 with samsung predictive text: it turned figs to dogs and mist to most, and that was in just one sentence. So if any words above just don’t seem right, blame my phone it doesn’t know what I’m trying to write.