I was having such an incredible dream. It was the start of a long haul flight, I’ve no idea where I was going, but my excitement was as effervescent as the fizz I was sipping. I tipped my head back, savouring the moment. Waiting for someone to whisper sweet nothings in my ear, when the deep-throated moan of a hungry Burmese cat, demanding to be fed, blasted my eardrum.
‘Just let me sleep!’ Not quite all the words I used, but this is a family show.
Domesticity and I have never gone dishpan hand in glove. I blame it on my late mother’s ridiculous idea of sending me to a boarding Domestic Science College when I was sixteen. I was expelled before my first half term, which tells you all you need to know.
My pièce de résistance is probably a toss-up between tuna pasta and stew. We have only been lying low for a couple of weeks, but I have already received a few pointed comments wrapped in sarcasm and drizzled with a little innuendo.
I have more cookery books than I have ever cooked anything sensational, so I’ve no excuse, and I am making an effort.
I think I maybe unwell. I have just cooked the family meal for tonight and actually enjoyed preparing it. Not only have my culinary skills shone today but have also done a fair amount of cleaning. My hands are chaffed and cracking. I hate domesticity. My Mother made […]