Do you ever find you have given yourself just one challenge too many? That’s what happened to me today.
am off to spend a few days with the Youngest of the Darling Daughters and her family. I know just what we will do, my daughter and I. We will sit in the conservatory and chat. And chat. And chat. We may go for a walk, in the interests of a healthier lifestyle.
On one of my stays, we set out to walk across the fields to a neighbouring village but somehow went in completely the wrong direction. It is possible we were chatting too much to pay due attention to our route. We walked for miles and miles but managed to
end up in the pub just up the road. We have no idea how we got there. The pub lunch (I seem to remember) was just fine.
I am looking forward to my stay enormously
but I have such a lot to do before I step aboard to 10.30 train tomorrow morning. I even went as far as to draw up a “To Do” list. I used to rely on my daily lists when I was a Working Gal but I don’t think any Happily Retired Person should
be into the business of drawing up lists – unless they are of the Birthday / Christmas Present variety. (When I was at work I often included on my daily list tasks I had already completed. It was the only way I could be sure to tick anything off before
the end of the day.)
Today’s list had a few “easy jobs” on it, like phoning people and re-arranging appointments. There were a number of frankly
boring tasks like the ironing. Plus some which I just knew I would never get finished – like the indexing of the last three issues of the Worthing Gazette for September 1916 for the Great War Project. The indexing has to be completed by the end of August,
I am bang up against the deadline and one whole issue still to go. I may have to take it with me. The Y of the DDs can chat away while I am doing it.
challenge too many” was the making of an apple and blackberry pie for Mr B to enjoy while I am away. It seemed like a good idea yesterday, when I was out picking blackberries from the hedge at the back of the garden. The blackberries are refugees from
the garden at the back of ours. We welcome lots of plants from other gardens. There’s a lovely buddleia bush I noticed the other day – Mr B doesn’t particularly like buddleias because he thinks they look untidy so he would probably
veto a purchase from the Garden Centre but you can’t say no to a bush that plants itself in your garden, now can you? I understand that cats often adopt new owners in much the same way, just by turning up on the doorstep. Not that any cats have turned
up on our doorstep. Far too canny, cats are.
Back to the pie. I really didn’t have time for baking. All that peeling of apples to go with the blackberries.
The rolling of pastry. The remembering what time I introduced the pie into the oven. Followed by remembering what time I needed to take it out.
It would never
have occurred to Mr B to ask for a pie before I went. It was all my own idea. But once I had said I would make The Pie, I had to make The Pie. Moreover I had to find the time to make The Pie. See what I mean? With so much else to do, why give myself
an extra, some would say unnecessary, challenge?
Except that, now I’ve done it – now it is sitting on the top of the cooker, cooling off and looking
most appetising (though I say so myself as shouldn’t) I’m glad I found time for The Pie.
Some people hide letters for their loved ones to find
when they are away, to show them they are thinking of them. Such a sweet idea, don’t you think? However I know Mr B well enough to realise that the way to his heart takes a very different route. No love letter will serve half as well
Love is an apple and blackberry pie.