Inviting people for Sunday lunch always seems a brilliant idea on a Saturday in the pub with the beer flowing and frivolity in full swing. Never seems quite the same when I wake up on a Sunday morning. Fear and worry abound and interrupt my sleep. Will I wake too late? Can I get the meat up to room temperature in time? Can I be bothered to peel and parboil potatoes? Do I make Yorkshire puddings? Will I overcook it? All those fears swamp me in the cold light of day.
Today all those worries did interrupt my sleep but as usually happens I triumphed in the end. The beef was sublimely rare, the potatoes beautifully crisp, the vegetables al dente and perfect, and the most wonderful glass of Chianti.
Now on a chilly afternoon I'm listening to Cosi fan Tutte with my wine still sipped only not sunk my life is my own. After a very difficult week I'm alone again with my thoughts. My friend Marie has been visiting and my fear aside we've had a lovely weekend.
The weather broke on Friday so after the suffocating heat and humidity sense was restored. Sadly so was the rain too so no trip to St Albans as planned. But we amused ourselves and had a good time.
If I said I wasn't anxious about tomorrow I would be lying. Things are unresolved but will be at some point. My neck and shoulder problems of two years ago resurfaced on Thursday and I have a physio appointment booked for Tuesday. Hopefully need just the one. Very effective but very expensive.
May I wish you all a good Sunday. I will concentrate on Mozart and just relax. Tomorrow is yet a way off.
I Heard a Voice.
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