Monday 28 August 2023

Balderton!

I grill my own bacon this morning. Having risen when the sun warmed my bedroom to intolerable levels.

Dave’s watching a French gameshow, Les 12 coups de midi. It’s very Channel Nine, with lots of weird ritualised audience participation. It forms a surreal background.

While I eat my self-made bacon sandwich. Dave has wisely bought in a lot of bacon. Easily enough for me to have a sandwich every morning I’m here. Unless Alexei goes into a bacon frenzy.

The kids are still lazing around in bed. No need for them to get up early today. As we don’t intend going anywhere. This is our one rest day.

Talking of kids, a couple of Dave’s grandkids are coming up from London today. That’ll be interesting. I’ve not seen them since they were pretty much babies.

Dave gets the goat curry on the go not long after breakfast. He knows how to make it the proper Jamaican way. He proudly shows me the scotch bonnet peppers he’s using. Cool. I like my food spicy. Those chili flakes on my lunch have trained me up a treat.

Alexei is up first, obviously. Followed by a dazed-looking Andrew. This morning it looks like he’s spent the last week on an opium and pervitin binge. So, much perkier than yesterday. That’s the pervitin, I guess.

There’s a phone call from Dave’s granddaughters: they’ve missed their train and are getting a later one. That’ll give the goat curry more time to cook all the way through.

Needing to book tickets for me and the kids to Sheffield on Monday, I log onto a train site. All is going swimmingly. Until I need to pay. I won’t go into details, but the two-level authentication insisted on by my credit card company is a nightmare. There’s a fair amount of shouting before it’s all sorted. But what can you do on a computer without shouting? Or maybe that’s just me.

I have a wander up to Sainsbury’s with the kids. It’s not far. And I need a whisky top up. The stuff evaporates so quickly here. It must be the climate. The kids get a slab of Carling and another of Strongbow.

Salt, spring onions and shoe polish. We need three things beginning with the letter “s”. Which makes them easier to remember. (Though I do spend some time looking for the syllabub section.) The first two for Dave, the last for Dolores.

No plans for today other than chilling at Dave’s. At least we’re stocked up with booze now.

In the early afternoon, Dave’s grandkids show up. Obviously, they’re a lot bigger than when they were babies, being full-grown adults now.

“What are we eating, granddad?”

 “Curry goat and rice and peas.”

“I’m vegetarian and my sister’s vegan.”

“Oh.”

I guess it’s rice and peas for them. The rest of us get stuck into the curry. Which is nice and spicy. Dave really is set up for vegetarian food.
“Can I have some of the gravy, granddad?”

“I thought you were vegetarian?”

“I just don’t like the texture of meat. I’ve no moral objection to eating it.”

That’s an interesting take on vegetarianism.

We watch the live evening Premier League game. While sipping on Dunkles and cider. Well, the kids do. I’m mostly sticking to whisky.

It’s very low-key day. The farthest the kids get is Sainsbury’s for more cider, Dave’s well impressed at how quickly the pair can hammer through a slab.

Youtube time again later. Which ends for me after midnight. And for the kids rather later.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Ah, England - traffic cones on lamp-posts...