Tuesday, December 22, 2009

snow, risk, surprise

Posted by PicasaThe 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.
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.


Roderick Robinson said...

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.

marja-leena said...

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 :-)

Lucy said...

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!)

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Unknown said...

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.

The Crow said...

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.