Virginia Woolf never drove a tractor
Discuss!
(Ok, this is the only pic I took and that's because I'm mentoring my new team member in how to display the pop up cards).
CleanSteve gave me a lift downtown to his market stall, where I popped up my tractor card for sale, then went off on a wee shopping trip around town. Who would ever have thought that, as well as holiday T-shirts (from the Charity shop) I would be buying holiday MASKS? New, of course!
Stopped off at a cafe for a hot chocolate and opened my newspaper. Plop! The rain started. I put my umbrella and carried on reading. I'm from the East coast of Ireland and the West coast of Scotland, so don't quite understand why there's been such a fuss about the rain in England this month. Still, I'd like a little tiny bit of sunshine in West Wales, please!
Then I went home and did yet more washing and watched an excellent documentary on iPlayer called What are we feeding our kids? It's relevant to anyone, not just parents, and focuses on the known and unknown effects of ultra-processed foods (junk foods, many ready meals) on our health and our brain processes. Who is not surprised to hear that they are addictive and habit forming? The section on Brazil is particularly interesting.
I realised I had two books to read for my WEA courses. No homework on holiday! That's my rule. So I finished Voyage in the Dark by Jean Rhys (good, descriptive, but the heroine is essentially passive. She grows up and becomes much a more feisty version of herself in the later novel Wide Sargasso Sea, which references Bertha Rochester, the madwoman in the attic in Jane Eyre).
With that under my belt, I took a break, then went on to Virginia Woolf's Mrs Dalloway. I only had to read the first third of that. I admit that when I first read it in around 1998, I kept wondering when the story would begin. I had the same feeling about To the Lighthouse in 2007. Now I realise that there are only stories within stories, and 'we are all living through our own private hell' to quote The Jam. All the same, I'm glad it was a fine day in London on the occasion of Mrs Dalloway's perambulations around Bond Street. The first world war had certainly made people peculiar. I do wonder what literature will be written about Post-CoVid PTSD.
This evening, I attempted to bake a half-size tray of flapjacks in the small oven. Glad to say they were a success and contained no invert sugar, dextrose, maltose, calcium proponiate, etc etc, as they might have done if I'd bought them for 29p at Home Bargains. Fortunately I like my food crunchy or chewy, so I don't buy the soft ones. I'm as guilty as anyone though, of eating processed foods.
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