A cold and miserable February morning out. Thank gawd for central heating and double glazing. I don’t know what the weather is like in Rome but the odds are against it being anything but miserable if you are a travelling Welsh rugby supporter. And I am normally an optimist. Glass half full. At least they can go and get blessed by the Pope on Sunday morning and buy some tatty souvenirs. Rome knows how to milk tourists. V expensive as I recall.
Anyway back in a cold and miserable Lincoln the kitchen is at least brightly lit. THG busies herself. I need to decide on breakfast choices. Perhaps a simple bacon and mushroom sandwich on sourdough toast. Elegance. With a fresh pot of tea. That shall be it. The breakfast of kings.
There is a choice of bacon: dry cured back, smoked back and unsmoked streaky. I have opted for the smoked and it is currently under the grill. Not fried. The bacon has been started before the toast as the latter takes less time to grill. We no longer have a functioning toaster and although it is still in place on the worktop this will be remedied at the earliest opportunity. The recycling centre beckons.
I was umming and ahing whether to indulge in a glass of beer or two during the rugby this afternoon. Big op forthcoming on Tuesday. A decision has been made to go for it. The last session with this hip. Who knows what lies beyond.
Bacon sarnie was good. Cup of tea was good. Let’s get ready for the day ahead.