It is Friday evening, and I like to do a blog post at the end of the week to put my thoughts in order. The problem is though…I have nothing to write about. What have I done? I went to work, I had a massage, I went to Pilates, I ate breakfast, lunch and dinner. I talked to Charlie, read a little, watched a little, listened to a little. I’m sure you did much the same. In other words, this was not a memorable week, and not full of adventure and fun.
But it is spring, which is lovely. As a result the weather is, shall we say, variable. Today has been blustery and grey, and as I type I can see one of the chairs outside move across the terrace. Earlier in the week, when the sun was shining, I was lucky enough to take the cable car to work.
It was, however, a week where I braved that root vegetable, the beetroot again. I only risked baby ones, roasted, and have to say this time around I enjoyed them just a bit more. But I do have to say, I will only eat little ones well roasted, with some kumara and lots of feta to top it off.
It was also a week where I picked up some 100% rye bread from Leeds Street Bakery, so perfect with some scrambled eggs. I found the sweetest mini red cabbage to make a coleslaw with on Saturday, tasted the most sublime crunchy piccalilli from Hillside Kitchen & Cellar, and thoroughly enjoyed a few short essays before bedtime from Elizabeth David’s An Omelette and a Glass of Wine.
It was Māori language week here in New Zealand, and there were various things on at work to actively encourage staff to participate in learning a few words and having some fun at the same time. It was also a week where the politicians were out in force, as we have a general election here in New Zealand on the 23rd September.
It was also a week that…well, this is a light-hearted blog, and not about politics or current affairs, so I’ll let you fill in the blank in any way you please.
Title from Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations. Thought it summed up the season perfectly.
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