I am in London on a brief visit to spend a few days with my mother who has just come out of hospital following neck surgery. She has a rather impressive line of staples in the back of her neck that would put Frankenstein to shame.
Today, Easter Sunday, we were treated to a cooked roast lunch, plated and delivered to our door by our lovely neighbour, Christine. Roast Lamb with mint sauce, roast potatoes, steamed carrots and runner beans, all gorgeously moistened by rich gravy. A dish of poached home grown rhubarb, gooseberry and blackberry, sweetened with sugar and accompanied with custard followed. We sat, the two of us, in Mummy’s crisp white bed, surrounded with the Sunday papers and the phone constantly a ringing.
What yum and how relaxing.
However, shame on me for not carrying my camera wherever I go. In my desire to travel light, so too is this posting, sadly imageless. So I leave it to your imaginations. Good old English grub in bed on a dreary day with much love and comfort.