Prescience

I had just finished returning all the washed dishes to the cupboards and then gave thought to what I would cook for dinner.  I always think better in a clean kitchen.

I had serviced the generator in the morning, changing its oil and filters and it thanked my by giving up smoking, its exhaust was pure and clean when I restarted it.  My foot is still giving me hell but I have decided to ignore it.  If it falls off I shall deliberately not notice out of spite.

The night before last I did beef.  Last night I did a Chilli con Carne without the chilli (Dominic can't stand chilli but doesn't play with Barbie dolls so I am not overly concerned.  He'll be a man one day).

I had a root around the freezer. 

There were some joints.  They'd take far too long to defrost. 

Loads of mincemeat.  We had that last night.  I suppose I could have done a Lasagne but when I checked, I didn't have enough cheese. Besides, the weevils had got into my half kilo bag of Italian herbs so I would have to microwave the bag and sift out the corpses,  I hadn't time for that.

Chicken it was then.

I have absolutely no idea why, but I defrosted seven chicken legs.  Alex, Marcia and I only need one each.  I then peeled loads of sweet potatoes.  I hate peeling sweet potatoes.  The juice turns to sticky glue and the skin gums up the peeler so why did I sit there on the stoep peeling so many sweet potatoes?

I decided I would roast the chicken with a honey pepper glaze, par boil the sweet potatoes before crisping them off in the oven after rolling them in olive oil and dusting them with a sprinkle of sea salt, use the juices of the roasted chicken to make a smooth cream sauce and serve it all with steamed broccoli.  Sounds delicious but completely over the top for three people.

The only production I was interested in from my Filipino carpenter were the houses he was building for me.  This evening I realised that during his many years in Angola he has been productive in other ways.  For whatever reason, still unclear to me, he turned up with his four delightful children.  They will be billeted in my house.  Alex, of course, is thrilled.  So many new pals to play with.

Tired, obviously bewildered (like I say, I have no idea what's happened but there's always a spare bunk in my house if you need one), the kids were starving and in desperate need of a shower.  Nicely scrubbed up they reappeared and by the merest chance, I had enough food for all.  Well, not quite.  If you count me, that makes eight.  I only roasted seven chicken legs basting them carefully with that rich, delicious mouth-watering sauce I had been looking forward to all day.

Fuck it. I need to lose weight anyway.

Just something I spent all day knocking up and didn't get to eat.
The kids are all lined up on the sofa watching cartoons.
I am sitting here starving, writing this shit.