The Grove with child in red leggings..
Elderly people, who generally lead sheltered lives, can sometimes enjoy the risky options of urban living. I admit to enjoying the titillation provided on the understanding that I survive. Today the choice is between breaking a leg on the ice-layered pavements of Mount Sion or walking on the road and being killed by a 4 WD spitting chewed up snow and grit.
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A surprise parcel awaits us. I have been given a number to ring by Kim, who is my son,Toby's other half, in order to track its progress. All I am told is that it is something that requires attention when it arrives. I need to know when to expect it so that someone can be in when it is delivered. The number I ring turns out to be in Cornwall. How I love the West Country accent and the phrases that go with it! " Right, my love", says a warm female voice. "OK, my love! I say I have been given the number to track a parcel. "This number is in Cornwall, my love," she says. "I am in Kent, " I say."It will take a minute my love, I'll give you the number of the local depot. When the parcel turns up it consists of an insulated box with sausage-shaped bags of ice inside. Kept cold by the ice, is a big packet if white crab meat (bliss, Heidi's favourite) and a generous bag of scallops, (bliss, my favourite). Serendipity and spot on. Scallop and potato salad, tonight,then. I'll use the Ratte potatoes which I bought in the market this morning. Tomorrow crab salad or some other delectable concoction of crab, and then a long promised seafood risotto, when Heidi's other daughter Jenny, arrives from Paris, to join her sister Caroline, who is already here. Thank you Toby and Kim.
6 comments:
Tracking one's prezzie - a new gift of the twenty-first century, turning the screws on anticipation. Aldous Huxley said the twentieth century had brought only one new vice and that was an addiction to speed. Tracking isn't a vice it's a pleasure and my feeling is AH didn't live long enough. Perhaps in the end love will be as good as soma. But in the meantime I slaver at the thought of both your gifts.
Oh, you found out what's in your present in advance, a bit naughty, I'd say... but what gourmet feasts you will have! Love the photo, that makes two things here to envy :-)
Wonderful, the sweetness of the photo, the piquancy of your observations about living life dangerously, and the savour of the seafood surprise.
(However, I must be a pernickety pedant here, and suggest you change the punctuation in 'Kim, my son, Toby's other half' and remove the second comma after 'my son'. Momentarily I was led to believe perhaps you had twin sons, one called Kim and one called Toby... also, umhh... I think perhaps it's 'titillation' rather than 'titivation'? Forgive me, I hope we've edited each other long enough to be allowed such liberties. :~)
And would you believe, the CV is 'uppedity' which sounds a bit like what I'm being!)
BB I was impressed by the efficiency and courtesy of the trackers. As you say, one horror less, one bright star in the Brave New World.
ML I could not help finding out the contents of the surprise because I warned by the donors that the parcel needed the fridge or the freezer.
Lucy: A Malapropism to boot. Thank you. You are a rare editor, attentive and tactful at the same time.
I like crab in a velvety reduction of white wine, cream, finely julienned mushrooms and minced shallots sauteed in unsalted butter, served in puff pastry cups or baskets. Tender-crisp spears of asparagus along side.
Merry Christmas to your household, Plutarch.
:)
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