Fallback position

Circus yesterday, bread today (niche Roman reference).

Two attempts to revive my long-neglected sourdough starter have proved fruitless, or rather fruitful in the form of mould rather than the right kind of bacteria. We'd run out of frozen bread, so I resorted to dried yeast. I've always liked Paul Hollywood's spelt tin loaf, so I made that, but since I didn't have any spelt flour I used the ancient variety Barbu du Roussillon instead. It's relatively local to me, but I didn't discover it until I went to Badabec. This loaf may look mundane, but I adore its slightly spicy flavour. And I'm really not used to getting a fresh loaf done and dusted within three hours. We've just enjoyed it as an apero with a glass of wine. 

S and I had planned to visit Sue in hospital today, as he had a routine medical appointment in Narbonne. But he's still streaming with cold, so we ended up going in two cars, him to his appointment and me to the hospital. I had cause to wish Bruno the Peugeot's heating was working -- even well wrapped up, I had frozen hands by the time I arrived. 

Sue's decline is precipitous -- after not seeing her for a week, I was still taken aback. She was mostly comatose, occasionally mumbling something that made little sense. The room was crowded, with her daughter N ("working from home" thanks to hospital wifi), neighbour H, who deals with a lot of admin because she is English and speaks fluent French, and Sue's friend G, who has been a wonderful support, coming over from the UK for a week at a time and spending all day with her. When French neighbour C arrived, on her way home from work, H and I decided to leave to create some space. I was glad that Bruno's heating roared (intermittently) into life halfway home.

Home, fire, apero, and relax. We've decided to head to the UK early for Christmas (while flights are affordable) so that we can spend time with S's mum. It doesn't feel like a very festive season though.