encroaching civilisation

amazing what happens to Sunday lunch in absence of off-spring.

got up relatively early considering lateness of night last night (see yesterday's back-blip) and got on with some harvesting of things.

elderflower
sage
peppermint
lady's mantel
nettles
lime blossom
oregano
chamomile
lavender
blue potatoes
watercress
onions
cherries
lemon verbena

blessings on the organisation of Slow Food which allowed me to stock up on Norwegian smoked herrings yesterday. And the cheapy-cheery locally grown tomatoes and zuchetti (mine aren't ready yet) which all allowed for a yummy lunch complete with "the nice wine with a bird on it" (youngest Spitzi likes birds).

Breakfast was fresh strawberries with maple sirup and fresh, homemade yogurt....

Mr. Spitzi, in an attempt to offer further proof of the fact that we have little in common apart from species, a love of the place we live, three children and a bank account, got up late, ate some of the grimly sugary things the children like, had a coffee and a fag and went back to his place in front of the computer. Lunch was refused with a slightly amused laugh at the idea of actually having lunch when children aren't around to nag for it. Am waiting for the "this fish has bones" horror that will come later when he warms it all up. Meanwhile, I'm going on a hunt for the bottom of the bottle of the nice wine with the bird on the label....which should get me in the mood to attack the children's rooms with a hoover....