Home Grown

It was warm enough this morning to sit outside and have a natter with a cycling friend, albeit with our coats on, and warmed by mugs of hot coffee.

This cycling friend is another of my friends with many talents and varied interests. She arrived bearing this healthy looking cabbage which she had plucked from the soil of her allotment on the slopes of Blackford Hill half an hour before she arrived. I swear I could still hear it crying out in the pain of its removal.

In the days of yore during wartime rationing and beyond, cabbage was a stalwart ingredient of family meals along with carrot , turnip, sprouts and potato, these being home grown and needing no importing. We could forget the more exotic squashes, pumpkins and sweet potatoes from distant climes gracing our shelves today.

The use of cabbage as an accompaniment has languished a bit since these foreign vegetables have taken our fancy, so it is lovely to have this one as a present and know its provenance. His Lordship and I will eat it with all the respect it is due.

Tonight his Lordship and I are hitting the night life of Edinburgh with a visit to the opera.
We will be among the great and the good at the Festival Theatre for Scottish Opera's presentation of The Marriage of Figaro. I am so looking forward to it.
In the new parlance , it should be 'wicked'.