Saturday, its hunt for salad day as we are entertaining in the evening. So after a bacon bagel I and my partner head off to the garden centre and buy salad plants. Its not the most exciting thing to do on a Saturday but hey that’s life sometimes. Once the goodies are stored we shop for a newspaper and a sticky bun for a mid morning break. For me the challenge is then to clean the fish and to start them on another healthy tank regime. So I roll back the carpet, gather up the fish box and set about cleaning their glass and filters. I remove about a third of their water and replace it adding a magic potion to inhibit algae growth and to promote plant growth. So my fish end up being able to see the the outside world and I get to watch them in idle moments when I am in “Power Save” mode. Because I have chosen a menu that requires a burst of frantic activity for two of the courses at the same time I start to prepare the kitchen for the onslaught. I weigh out all the ingredients that I am going to need and get them strategically lined up ready to go. I’ve decide to do individual cheese souffles to start with and they are a bugger to get right but they are to be followed by stuffed chicken breasts with salad and new minted potatoes which means the two dishes over lap in cooking time but once the souffles are in the door cannot be opened. I decide to use both ovens on the range, something I have not done before. So by the time Wales kick off against Denmark I have stuffed breasts in the fridge alongside the Benedictine chocolate mousses I made yesterday and a new fresh salad. They are now embellished with strawberries and whipped cream. The potatoes are in a pot ready to go so I settle down to watch the game. A disappointment for Wales loosing 4 nil. I start to cook and right on cue the guests arrive. My partner who laid the table with our best crockery plays host and provides nibbles and drinks while I whip up the souffles and get them into the oven at the same time as I pop the chicken in. In an “it will be alright on the night”burst of activity everything comes together beautifully. My souffles rise majestically and are the right texture, the chicken takes a little longer than planed for but allows for time in the garden and some chat. The meal goes well through the main and into the pudding meandering into cheese and biscuits, coffee and mints. We repair to the lounge and continue our conversations. It is the joy of cooking a meal for friends and having the time to talk idly without needing to give the table back to the restaurant after a paltry two hours. As midnight looms our guests depart with hugs all round. I go to bed having put food in the fridge and stacked the kitchen.
Sunday and I wake surprisingly early. I weigh myself and get a rude shock at 23.3 kilos, I did not think I had eaten that much last night. I go downstairs and get stuck into clearing the kitchen of last nights debris. I load the dishwasher and then wash our good crockery and glasses separately. The later I stow away carefully until the next time. With the kitchen clear and clean I make drinks and wake my partner. A Sunday morning chat and then toast and peanut butter before I gear up to do a spot of tarmacing. I clear the potholes in the drive and spray them with cold tarmac sealant before splitting open bags of cold tarmac and scooping it out into the potholes. The art is to compact it using a five pound club hammer and a flat trowel to even it off. I’m in my work clothes, steel capped rigger boots, baseball cap and work gloves, today I am making these look good as I artistically fil the worst potholes in my drive. Eventually I am done.
I have some materials left but I am going to see how my first efforts wear and then I will set about covering the areas that have just lost there top layer. I put my gear away, wash up and dress with the intention of watching a rugby match, but due to COVID in the Scottish team it has been cancelled. So I write the blog and look forward to the evenings football and the revision I need to do for the training session that the team are doing tomorrow and Tuesday. My partner and eldest daughter go to to look at some of the village gardens that have opened up for the weekend. We have been adopted by a thrush fledging which has been sitting on our path for at least two hours. Apparently some fledglings have to spend up to two days on the ground in order for their flight feathers to fully develop. Its tempting to think rescue but the RSPCA is to leave them alone.
My evening is full of football as the Netherlands crash out against the Czech Republic and I get ready to watch Portugal play Belgium. My coming week is full with training days, consultancy meetings, blood tests, presentation construction and birthday presents to organise. Time will fly and I have to try to keep training. I’ve been reading a lot of stuff about posttraumatic growth in preparation for my presentation on the 6th July. What I’ve read has made me rethink some of my presentation, which might come as a bit of a surprise to my fellow presenters.
