Well, it's been an odd sort of month, full of more goodbyes than normal. I cast off my 36th trip around the Sun on the 11th, so I suppose it's just going to be one long battle with encroaching jowls for the rest of my life. To be honest, I didn't really notice my actual birthday as I was in the middle of packing in the old flat: I have moved back in with my sister, so I am very much in the same position as I was when I first moved down to London nearly eight years ago. Moving everything out of the flat was rather like undertaking an archaeological dig- I had quite forgotten what the flat looked like under all my accumulated detritus, as I am almost congenitally incapable of throwing anything away. "Hmm," I thought, "I really might want to keep this Albanian train ticket for a while yet." I also have little doubt that the said Albanian ticket will still be cluttering up my home when something vital goes missing, like a winning lottery ticket , some vital warranty or what's left of my mind. In the end, I did manage to part with some old pairs of trousers that had waisted away, but even that was quite a wrench.
I have also left Islington, just about under my own steam, and I am now doing much the same thing as before, only in Ealing, where I worked about six years ago.I am beginning to think that time is not only catching up with me but is detemined to trip me up with little circular tricks like this.
Duncan & Lynn came around to the flat for one of the many meals that I will owe them over the next few years. I am happy to report that they survived the meal, but I did think that they found the music I inflicted on them something of a debilitating experience. "Oh listen," ventured Duncan after a couple of hours denying the inherent genius of Bob Dylan, "that song was quite jolly!" Now, I am not going to apologise for my musical tastes any more as it simply isn't going to get me anywhere, and whilst I am happy to concede that my one of my ideas of Nirvana is to find a 24-hour Leonard Cohen karaoke bar, I don't think that every song I like is intrinsically morose-I mean! What do people want me to do? Walk down the street whistling Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep?
Just in case anyone is still paying attention, the main course was quite successful, and if you ever feel a yearning to try an artichoke and mushroom casserole, click here for the recipe, courtesy of the International Vegetarian Union. As it cooked I was becoming increasingly sceptical that a successful resolution would emerge from the chemical and physical experiment going on in my oven. Where was every Englishman's right, the sauce that is duty bound to envelop every casserole we ever eat? In the end, though, I was pleased with the result, a delicate, graceful, life-enhancing, redemptive and generally all-round good egg of a casserole was duly presented ,digested and remembered with affection as a ray of light in a cruel, dark world.
I don't cook for guests very often....... |
