The Fens can be pretty bleak and desolate in winter. The black unctuous earth brings up marvelous vegetables but the wind sweeping over the flat plains that run for miles out the North Sea can be a killer. Often from the east winter is bitter, long and painful at times. After all these years of writing you must all know how important East Anglia in general and Cambridge more specifically mean to me.
I have spent the weekend in the Fens. Wind swept all the time travelling home today as yet another storm hit was a precarious business. So with some trepidation I travelled back from one home to another. I made it after a couple of unexplained stoppages but it was not a journey without nerves.
Now I'm back my thoughts turn to food. Not just watching the wonderful Yotam Ottolenghi in Morocco on TV but also my great love of China. Once again the Chinese New Year is upon us and we enter the Year of the Monkey. As tradition decrees I will visit Yang at the Fu Hoa, fancy some crispy duck today.
You will all be pleased to know that as I had hoped Friday's blip was just that. I felt a little edgy on Saturday but now I feel okay. Work beckons in the morning, a visit St Albans is on the cards. Then another week. The following week will be short as I am once again heading for Kent following the death a a friend. I've lost count of the number of times I have been to Hawkinge Crematorium. When I'm there I will go to mum's memorial, it's been a while. And then we bid another goodbye to a friend from the mad world. They are certainly going with alarming regularity.
I Heard a Voice.
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