Wet day

The sun shone briefly this morning, but the promised heavy rain eventually arrived, so blipportunities were scarce. A quick, muddy walk around the vines produced this effort.

We didn't feel like venturing far from home. S went to the shop when he was hungry and returned with, among other things, a kilo of vacuum-packed mussels from Ireland, allegedly organic. "How do they know?" I wondered. The sea is full of stuff you can't control. Anyway, thanks to a recipe from Elizabeth David of all people, they became an ingredient in the worst pizza ever (except the notorious bean pizza once made by S, in which the dough was replaced by, well, beans). It wasn't so much the topping (tomatoes, mozzarella, mussels) that was at fault, but the soggy, doughy base (as usual I had starter to use up!).

Still, it wasn't all bad. Before that we had piggishly indulged (look away now, MadChickenWoman) in the remains of a birthday jar of foie gras with our aperos. Naturally Mystère partook of it as well, before going to sit next to the cat flap glaring out at the rain.

And finally -- have you noticed the rainbows and Polaroid branding are gone? Hurrah! Remember you still have a couple of days to pledge to Blipfuture to help with future development.