Coffee and Croissants.

Eating first thing in the morning is not my thing. Well in fact mornings are not my thing. Made even harder by nearly 30 years on sedating medication. As a child mum would always cook something lovely for breakfast. Except of course in winter when she made porridge which I've detested all my life. Going away to boarding school at the age of nine I was forced to eat cereal every day for five years. That put me off for life. Post illness I simply cannot eat first thing in the morning. A great lover of a full English every now and again I have a fry up but not cooked by the English. My friends at Cafe Trio where I indulge my naughtiness occasionally are Turkish. They still do a mean fry up though.

Not sure why but this morning I wanted to eat. And I wanted to eat croissant. Something I didn't like growing up I now eat them occasionally. I've grudgingly learned to appreciate French culture as I get older. The shop by my flat does have a bakery but in these strange times there weren't any. The packet ones were a little like cardboard but with my strong black coffee I could pretend to be pseudo French with my paper.

After such a brutal week getting to the weekend was a relief. Cooking has played its part as ever, roast chicken yesterday, Spanish tapas for lunch today, garlic prawns with chilli, sherry and parsley, Padron peppers with sea salt and serrano ham. Then an indulgent rare roast loin of venison tonight  with a port jus. The Medoc was especially good with it.

Finally today it warmed up. Going for an afternoon walk with Sarah, finally allowed to do that, I was somewhat warm but we had fun. Probably broke the code by not being as socially distant as we should be. Nevertheless I'm not too worried about plague and pestilence. As you recall from my tome I've never really been worried about it. Just the loneliness which hit last Sunday.

Tomorrow I go back into the fray. I made progress last week but I anticipate some resistance coming up from people next week. Taking difficult decisions and being in the firing line is never easy but that's what I get paid to do.

For now though I have Beethoven's violin sonatas, the rest of the Medoc and the knowledge that however hard last week was I survived, I enjoyed the weekend and the sun is set to shine. Good luck back in the world of reality to tomorrow.

I Heard a Voice.