Sunday, wonderful Sunday. A day to rest, to do opera, to cook and to read. On a rather dull day a pork shoulder joint has just gone in the oven, The Marriage of Figaro plays quietly, the paper is only a fraction read. I had to stop the good stuff to do some cleaning-very dull. I will have visitors round for roast pork later.
This is no ordinary joint of pork. It is Gloucester Old Spot pork from Borough Market. I spent a splendid afternoon with my friend Katherine at the market. It was packed but I came back laden with beautiful produce. Aside from the pork there was a chicken, some boar, a chorizo sausage, cinnamon from Sri Lanka, 2 different Spanish cheeses, bacon, and some beautiful damson jam. The latter really reminds me of mum. So for the next few days I will feast and share with my friends.
Oh too quickly though tomorrow will come. Last week was tough at times but not for the usual reasons. Finally late on Friday afternoon we confirmed the programme of events for Wednesday. Now all I need to do is give some thought to my talk and scribble down a few bullet points just to remind me of the order. I had planned to do that today but would rather listen to Mozart. Tomorrow it is then.
I Heard a Voice
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