Despite the mostly inclement weather, we’re enjoying being back in Cornwall, and it is especially novel not sharing our house with the plumbers, carpenters and electricians. We quite miss them though – they are a happy and helpful bunch – though we don’t miss the early morning start time. They were here last week finishing off a few bits and pieces, but I think that is everything now until the summer. Robin is muttering about ‘getting up the floor of the conservatory’ to install underfloor heating, as that is our only dining space and it can be parky at this time of year. Personally, I favour a large rug. The thought of having the floor up fills me with horror. I am hoping he will have forgotten about it by the summer. Continue reading “Thai noodle soup”
Raining. Again. And I’ve been in the country less than a week and I’ve got a cold. How did that happen?
My life at the moment is a whirlwind of ibuprofen (throat/headache), pholcodine (irritating cough), Strepsils (anything not covered by the above) and gallons of water and tea. The upside is that I don’t have to go out for anything, there are no urgent jobs to do, there’s plenty of firewood, we’ve got English telly and I’ve got about a squillion second-hand cookbooks to work my way through. Continue reading “Oven-bottom bread (and my life as a water spaniel)”
I’m sure there’s been a mistake. On Saturday, I was at Mumi’s Beachclub, enjoying some late winter Turkish sunshine; today I appear to be looking out of the window at what could only be described as a Cornish rain scene.
In between times, we spent what seemed like most of Sunday night languishing in the departure lounge at Dalaman Airport when our plane to Gatwick developed a technical fault as we were about to take off, and we were forced to return to the terminal. I won’t go into details – let’s just say it wasn’t the best-organised delay I have experienced. On the plus side, Thomas Cook managed to drag some poor engineer out of his warm bed in the early hours of Monday morning and he made our plane work again. Even better, it magically stayed in the air for the four hours back to London. Phew. I did even more braking (with my imaginary brake pedal) than usual, especially during the turbulent bits. In fact, despite it having been designated a 5:2 day, I was forced to eat my James Martin treacle sponge pudding just in case it turned out to be my last, AND I had to have a bolstering glass of red wine. Continue reading “Blueberry cornbread muffins”