A Feast of Health

This was lunch and it is exactly what Dad would have hailed as a feast of health.

Goodness I miss him, even 25 years after his death. I honour him every day.

It was homemade sourdough bread, spread with homemade made mayonnaise (my eggs), with a slice of the latest homemade cheddar (magically delicious) and topped with tomatoes and basil.

The cheddar is so good that I never got onto the Camembert today. And the beetroot chutney remained closed.

Bean was in close attendance but didn’t get a taste.

The temperature has gone from 30C just after lunch to a refreshing 19C this evening. And rain is forecast. We need it, but I’m hoping for slow and steady over the next 24 hours, not torrents.

My neighbours (of the dogs, horses, sheep, steers, chooks and pigs) are having trees felled this week. Once they are gone my view to the south is going to be vastly different, and I’ll be able to look straight into their bedroom when I’m sitting at my dining table.

I wonder if they thought it through?