13th July 2012 Friday
The trouble with rice dishes like Risotto is that you can’t stop eating them - at least I can’t - I seem to always find room for one more sticky spoonful. Which is why I don’t cook rice very often. But tonight I wanted deep warm comfort, so I made a fishy risotto with long, tubular, green onion tops, chopped courgettes, pink stemmed ruby chard, garlic and parsley and translucent chunks of smoked haddock. Very pastoral and moreish and perfect for this lost summer evening.
And enough for the pussy cat too - the fishy bit anyway.
I’ve been away all day - dodging in and out of the rain. An unsuccessful shopping expediton in Honiton - still looking for shoes and a long floaty cardigan to wear at my nephew’s wedding; driving down winding muddy lanes, lined with frothy cow parsley for a cup of tea with my sister at her beautiful farm; sweet potato tortilla lunch in a veggie cafe in Illminster with a dear friend who I haven’t seen for ages; then home and pottering in the garden - dead heading roses which never opened, trying to get the pussy cat to eat; putting away allotment produce when my husband comes back laden with broad beans and spinach, blackcurrants and damp garlic bulbs.
And all day I’ve been wondering how I can untangle myself from this net of sickenss which I have created around me - my husband, the pussy cat, my anxiety - and as Anita Moorjani talks about in her book “Dying To Be Me” find a way to be myself - fearlessly..
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