Yesterday was not a good day. I found out that a bottle of expensive wine that I bought almost a year ago disappeared out of the back of my grocery cupboard. The only thing I can think is that it was taken by the once-off cleaning lady and her companion that came to help me spruce up The Cave during level three of the lockdown. I left them alone for maybe a half hour to go and buy them some groceries as part of their agreed remuneration. It’s not so much the wine, but the memory attached to the bottle. I bought it for the girls’ night Eliza, Carmen and I had when we knew that Carmen was leaving to join Ewan in the Land of the Kiwis. We never got around to drinking it, but we made a pact to drink it together – Eliza and I at her house, with Carmen on a video call. To add insult to injury I felt a migraine setting in late afternoon and I felt all round blegh. Anyway, what’s done is done; there’s nothing I can do about it.
It’s Friday and nobody want to listen to gripes anyway, so I am going to share another kitchen adventure with you.
Yesterday morning I woke up to many messages saying happy Spring or something to that effect. I am a stickler about the true start of Spring in the Southern Hemisphere, purely because the Equinox is on my birthday.
I then saw the news that Eskom was once again implementing load shedding. My flowery thoughts did a three-sixty. New season, new loadshedding…
If for nothing else, this lockdown has taught me to utilise my kitchen. I am not going to lie – if The Cave didn’t come with a dishwasher included in the rent, I would be living in PB&J sammies, served on paper plates and drinking my coffee out of a paper cup.
I was at work today, but I may as well not have been. I woke up to news from Charlie that the ship on which he works has been exposed to COVID-19. Isolation and quarantine are imminent. I am sad, anxious, and unable to concentrate. He was so close to returning home (albeit it to self-isolation here).
I can only hope that he isn’t infected and that once the mandatory quarantine has passed, the airlines will have resumed their international and regional flights that he can get home.
I’m far from Marie Antoinette, although admittedly, I know quite a few people who I’d happily behead if I were a Queen with a guillotine.
I’m also inclined to speak without thinking. You wouldn’t think it, but it’s true. I suffer from regular foot-in-mouth disease, often simply opening my mouth to change feet.
I haven’t blogged much about the company I work for having merged with our biggest competitor late last year. While a lot has changed, it’s pretty much business as usual, except for me making promises to bring a chocolate cake next time I visit the other branch. As quickly as I said I’d bring a cake, I forgot what I’d said, but Thomas didn’t. He reminded me and a promise is a promise, so I made a plan.
I have a mini oven in The Cave, which is good for only one thing – cremating whatever I put inside it. Buying a cake was an option, but in this instance it would have been a cop-out. Besides, I know an amazing baker. An added bonus is she lives right round the corner, and is one of my best friends. Elizabeth to the rescue!
I explained the situation to her and she said she’d bake a cake for me. I bought the icing ingredients and gave her a little something for her effort. While I had zero hand in making the cake, I did spray the pans and help dry the dishes. I also told her what I thought she should put on to decorate it. I must say, she doesn’t give herself enough credit, because as far as I am concerned, this cake is an absolute masterpiece.
The poor woman’s nerves are a little bit rattled, because she always stresses that her baked goods won’t be good enough, but everything I’ve ever eaten that she’s made is de-li-cious! She’s said that she wants to test her limits a bit as far as baking is concerned, so I will be making good use of her abilities. After all, I’m a good friend 😉