(no subject)

I have in my crockpot one big piece of mutton from a local farm. It has carrots and onions and native mint and saltbush and much garlic and is going to slowcook for many hours. For a late dinner, I have miniature steak and kidney pies in my oven (very, very miniature - which still doesn't explain why there are 24 of them) and when they come out, the last of the steak and kidney mix and the last of the pastry are going to steam into a a steak and kidney pudding. I'm obviously going to have to freeze all of the pudding and some of the mutton even if I eat meat twice a day for a week. So why did I do it? And why did I also bake a cinnamon and currant loaf?

It's how I deal with the miseries. Cooking and friends and books and SF all cheer me up. I haven't been well enough for a big cook for ages and ages and I am fragile today but actually well enough to cook. So I did. Muchly. My body is now falling to peices, but I am full of perfect cheer inside. And I have English cider to go with the miniature pies.

What I am going to do, along with my pies and cider, is sit down and watch SF, with time out for work when I feel like it. All weekend I intend to do this. Except I have salad instead of cider for tomorrow and Sunday. Or salad as well as cider. It depends.

The good news is I have entirely mastered old-fashioned shortcrust pastry. The bad news is... how on earth do I eat everything?