Thursday, 16 November 2006

Z is interrupted. But has returned to blather again.

I'm sitting here, glass of Cava at my wrist (that sounds odd, but it is - if it were at my elbow I'd be much more likely to knock it over), waiting for our guest to arrive.

I rather thought she'd be here by now, but it's all right, dinner isn't ready yet. She drove up from Kent - from where she lives it is a Good three hours - to see a friend and is staying with us overnight. I have prepared a simple meal, game soup, roast chicken and pineapple and I will stick with the Cava myself, though a glass of sherry wouldn't go amiss with the soup as there is already some in it.

Ooh, she's arrived. more later.

Later.

An odd thing happened today when I was on my way to Norwich. The way there is on a B road, quite winding in places, that goes through several villages. I was waiting at a roundabout when I heard a hoot behind me and saw a very large lorry angled as if to pass me. There was not room for two vehicles side by side and, as the side roads are small ones, I knew he must be taking the Norwich road and ignored him. Later, as we were going along in a 30mph limit, I noticed he had forgotten to cancel his indicator.

As we were getting near the end of the village, behind two slow-moving cars, he hooted again and started to move out. I could see cars approaching and there was not room for him to pass us all and, frankly, I didn't want to let him in, so I edged slightly closer to the car in front. I looked in my mirror and saw that he had stopped. He hadn't pulled in to the side of the road and no cars could get past him. I kept glancing back, eventually he started again slowly, then must have speeded up.

As I got on the approach road to Norwich I was stopped by traffic lights. He pulled up beside me, signalling to turn off to Great Yarmouth. As I glanced at him, he looked at me and rubbed his hands together.

Why? I was bemused and unsettled. When he started all this, I wondered if he was trying to warn me that there was something wrong with his car. Then, I thought he might be having trouble with his lorry. But it was evidently neither. So, ?.

Actually, as I write, one thought has occurred to me. It might have been nothing to do with me at all. it might have been a really annoying driver behind him who was trying to overtake dangerously and whom he was preventing from doing so. I rather hope so as otherwise he was creepy.

Oh. That turned into a bit of a non-story, didn't it. After midnight now, too late to start again.

By the way, Lynn has put up the report on the sale on our website. Well, so she says although it hasn't actually appeared yet. However, it should be there by the morning I hope. Under 'Journal.' I write it in the Sage's name, but it is all ME. As you'd expect - though it is done in rather more formal and polite style than this is.

5 comments:

jen said...

can't wait to check it out.

cava? z, educate me, please.

game soup? was it gamey?

xo

Z said...

Sorry Jen. Cava is Spanish sparkling wine. Inexpensive.
Game soup - we had partridges the other night. I had two left over, so I took the meat off the breasts, made stock with the carcases plus vegetables and then used that to make the soup with lots more veg - onion, carrot, turnip, courgette and tomato if I rermember aright, plus the meat. And a slug of sherry.
It wasn't particularly gamey but it was good.

The Boy said...

Game soup, yum.

Do you have a source of pre-plucked or do you get your hands dirty? I hate plucking, had to do a lot of it when I was a butcher early on in life. Yet between plucking and using spare birds from a mate, and not plucking, I pluck.

Z said...

You were a butcher, were you? Useful person to have around, I could have done with you when I was dealing with that lamb a few weeks ago.

I bought these oven-ready from the butcher. £2.50 a brace, it's worth it. Pheasants would be about £4.50 a brace, though we can get them from the gamekeeper very cheap. I'm afraid I can't be bothered to pluck them though, so we usually skin them and use them for a casserole, or take off the breasts and use the rest for soup.

Tess Tennison said...

That driver does sound creepy.

My father used to make game pie but it was always a risky business eating it as it was always peppered with lead shot!

Didn't it rain here this evening - can't think what the phrase is - something to do with stairs - stair rods is it? Cats and dogs anyway.

Have a great weekend.
x