St Stephen's Day with spuds
Dec. 26th, 2014 09:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sawylBraved the cold for a run first thing. On the way back I saw an extremely large bird of prey loitering around Top Green. I'm not entirely sure what it was but it was almost entirely brown with dark feathered legs and, I think, dark under wing areas.
The bulk of the morning was taken up with an endless stream of questions from mater about the precise method used to bake potatoes — surely the simplest of things to cook, since they can be put in the oven at more or less any temperature and left until the give when you squeeze them — but apparently not. Lunch was somewhat purgatorial and I got stuck next to my niece's boyfriend while the others talked about such fascinating subjects as pensions, the merits of the local pubs and, god help me, the county's different breweries.
After an uneventful afternoon we had yet more potatoes, mostly reheated from lunch, for supper with the threat of another round of bakers for lunch tomorrow. I'm starting to reach the point, as seems to happen every Christmas, where the thought of eating another potato or slice of chewy white bread fills me with horror; I feel as though it's been a week since I ate anything else...
Just as my sister and family started to get ready to leave, it began to snow in earnest: firstly large, sleety flakes; later with fine snow that settled on the roofs of cars and in the trees; but I don't think it's forecast to last.
The bulk of the morning was taken up with an endless stream of questions from mater about the precise method used to bake potatoes — surely the simplest of things to cook, since they can be put in the oven at more or less any temperature and left until the give when you squeeze them — but apparently not. Lunch was somewhat purgatorial and I got stuck next to my niece's boyfriend while the others talked about such fascinating subjects as pensions, the merits of the local pubs and, god help me, the county's different breweries.
After an uneventful afternoon we had yet more potatoes, mostly reheated from lunch, for supper with the threat of another round of bakers for lunch tomorrow. I'm starting to reach the point, as seems to happen every Christmas, where the thought of eating another potato or slice of chewy white bread fills me with horror; I feel as though it's been a week since I ate anything else...
Just as my sister and family started to get ready to leave, it began to snow in earnest: firstly large, sleety flakes; later with fine snow that settled on the roofs of cars and in the trees; but I don't think it's forecast to last.
