YUP, IT’S
end-of-month blog time again. Hope everyone’s okay out there in cyberspace
land. I’m not doing too badly, although my tum is still giving me a bit of gyp.
Spring
has supposedly sprung – I just wish they’d remembered to let the weather know!
I ought
to be busy with my vegetables, but I’ve not yet dared to. We’ve had such a
string of cold, blowy days and heavily frosty nights that I doubt if anything
will “take” at the moment.
Actually,
I’m a bit in two minds about growing things again; last year was such a dispiriting
wash-out I can’t help feeling it’s a waste of effort and money.
I heard
on Gardner’s Question Time (BBC Radio
4, Sundays) the other week one of the experts say that there’s very little
point in growing your own tomatoes and peas and green beans and potatoes – it’s
cheaper to buy all that at the supermarket. Don’t go for the ordinary, try for
the expensive and more exotic.
The
problem with this is that I don't know how much more successful at growing the
likes of courgettes and artichokes I’d be.
In any
case I’m not sure how much My Good Lady and I even enjoy the taste of aubergines and
celery and the like… so what’s the point of growing them?
I might
give the veg a miss this year, and when the weather finally perks up, I’ll just
fill my raised beds with flowers.
Meanwhile
my experimental cookery sessions have grown apace – I seem to be doing them
three times a week now.
Not
always successfully, though, I must admit. Some of my stews and risottos and
the like have proved less than enjoyable – or even edible… These one-pot
recipes can end up a bit monotonous. We’re bored with them after the second
mouthful.
Still my
lamb curry tomorrow should be okay.
My
Italian language learning has begun in earnest, and I find it a lot harder than
my previous efforts in French were. Almost every word ends in tongue-twisting
vowel.
MGL has
been busy reading up about the area of this coming holiday, and she tells me
that we’re more likely to find German spoken in our region – that, or some
local dialect that not even native Italian speakers can comprehend.
Sometime
I wonder if I don’t make a rod for my own back!
Arrivederci, ciascùno!
