The Value of Thrift.

There is a chapter late in Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's book "Meat" on thrift. In that chapter is a most excellent recipe for Shepherd's pie. As some of you may recall I have bemoaned the lack of food culture in England before, are we only known for fried breakfasts, roast dinner, fine pies, and sticky steamed puddings? Actually we have a rich history of food but sadly much of it is forgotten and known only to historians of food. Were I studying history today as I did 25 years ago in Cambridge, I would probably have researched various culinary histories. Oh to have our lives over again!

Anyway, I cooked today for the first time all week. Actually I was cooking in preparation for tomorrow and have made what looks and smells like a fine Shepherd's pie. And I shredded my leftover roast lamb to make it. Therein lies thrift. My mum with her poor humble origins would heartily have approved. Actually she would have cooked it better than me.

As you may have gathered from my lack of cooking it has not been my best week. Monday was a high after submitting my book. Yesterday I went into freefall. I'm sure staring at a screen for 11 hours without a break contributed to the headache that forced a rare venture into paracetamol last night. Worse though I was exhausted, depressed, and feeling a complete failure. All I could think of was what will I do if my book is rejected and I get none of the jobs I have applied for. I could be in the same boat as I am now in a month's time.

Yesterday was boring. Today less so. I had 2 no shows, a cancellation and a bullshitter to deal with today. But I did some reading and spent some time on Linkedin. That was useful. I found an old friend Becky who featured heavily in "A Pillar of Impotence". She was there when I met Rachel and when my life fell apart she was so kind to me. I was not always so kind to her but we do crazy things when we are crazy. I couldn't e mail her but tried to connect with her. Who knows if she will respond-perhaps she wants to forget me.

But I did get a response from another old friend. Lucy was 15 when I met her. She was the daughter of my GP and I never really lost touch. It is just sporadic. She is now 29 and recently had a baby girl Isabelle. How time changes. Anyway, she has just sent her first short story off to an agent. I really hope she has more luck than I did.

I will sign off now as the chill of autumn creeps in at night. Let's hope it is an autumn of change for me. It has been a tough year.

I Heard a Voice.