I do love a ‘Wuthering’ Tree…

… We met with some family for lunch today (very nice). We hadn’t appreciated quite how foggy it was out of town. But hey, we’re home safe and sound (and full to bursting).

Now the only dilemma is that our usual teatime will come and go and we shan’t feel peckish until somewhere around 8.30 or 9pm. Then there will be considerable openings of fridge and cupboard doors, looking for ‘something nice’. (Even as I write it, light-heartedly, I do know how lucky we are).

So. There’s no meal to cook (that always feels like such a big win). It’s not so much the cooking of it, but the ‘thinking’, I find tiresome. ‘What shall we have?’
We could probably be described as old-fashioned, but we think of ourselves as a household who play to our strengths.

I cook.
Himself is bin monitor.
Strengths.

(We do have other positives between us too).

Sometimes he cooks… (Which works quite well if I want all of the forgotten bits and pieces from the back of the fridge used up and flavoured with curry. He’s a practical man. (‘Why on Earth would you have kept it if it’s gone off?’).

Sometimes I do the bins. (‘Sit down, I need to talk to you about this little triangular symbol here. Have you ever wondered what it’s there for?’).

A night off then.
Maybe we’ll play scrabble.