Fish faces
Up this morning with the words for the sung refrain in This Concert... in my head, sparked by a half remembered line of Dante. Winged this off to Matt. I had been drawing a blank on this for two weeks, and then it emerged fully formed in minutes. Hope he likes it.
After a quorn sausage sandwich, a long walk with Lorraine along the seafront, the sea still calm, but it was cold and face chilling. And it was good to let Lorraine off the leash. We paused to buy a very reasonably priced fillet of fish from the local fishmongers next to the Fishing Museum on the seafront: the vestige of the local fishing industry. While Lorraine was discussing recipes with the fishmonger, I was distracted bya tank full of edible crabs hunched into corners. But he had some good fish: flatfish, mackerel, herring, a couple of big cod and two morose gurnard on the slab.
After a reviving coffee, and blueberry muffin in my magic cafe, a mooch in Brighton, bumping into Anton in Resident records, who had momentarily been distracted from Valentine's day shopping.
Home, and in the evening Lorraine took over the kitchen, and cooked heroically, producing a coconut, tomato and fish curry, with a side plate of dhal. The evening cold and uninviting outside, so it was footie (a chelsea FA cup victory) and Wallender on TV, and a crisp glass of Belgian lager. All well.
Up this morning with the words for the sung refrain in This Concert... in my head, sparked by a half remembered line of Dante. Winged this off to Matt. I had been drawing a blank on this for two weeks, and then it emerged fully formed in minutes. Hope he likes it.
After a quorn sausage sandwich, a long walk with Lorraine along the seafront, the sea still calm, but it was cold and face chilling. And it was good to let Lorraine off the leash. We paused to buy a very reasonably priced fillet of fish from the local fishmongers next to the Fishing Museum on the seafront: the vestige of the local fishing industry. While Lorraine was discussing recipes with the fishmonger, I was distracted bya tank full of edible crabs hunched into corners. But he had some good fish: flatfish, mackerel, herring, a couple of big cod and two morose gurnard on the slab.
After a reviving coffee, and blueberry muffin in my magic cafe, a mooch in Brighton, bumping into Anton in Resident records, who had momentarily been distracted from Valentine's day shopping.
Home, and in the evening Lorraine took over the kitchen, and cooked heroically, producing a coconut, tomato and fish curry, with a side plate of dhal. The evening cold and uninviting outside, so it was footie (a chelsea FA cup victory) and Wallender on TV, and a crisp glass of Belgian lager. All well.
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