Creation, whether it be words, music, art or food, it’s all within our grasp. Life is the ultimate creation, creating another human being (for the humans amongst us) is right up there with the ceiling of the Sistine chapel or the Mona Lisa. To be honest, I’m a better painter than I am a father. I could spend hours creating a masterpiece (in any medium apart from biology (mind I’ve just found some carrots in a bag that look like they may have evolved complex life on their skins) I bring this to your attention (the creation thing) only because I have just polished off a phenomenon of a dish (it’s my missive so I shall use any manner of syntax) It started off as a traditional leek pudding, then I thought “Bugger that” so it ended up as buttered Irish trout with a fennel and chilli mix and asparagus and lemon buttermilk mashed potatoes. My creative juices flowed (wtf is a fennel anyway?) and sad to say I took a picture of it (I’m turning into a twat with pics of food) but hey, I made pork pies the other day and I don’t think I photographed those (although I may have, my memory wanes)
So I sit here now thinking about the old man in his room being waited on hand and foot, he’s been a bloody miss these last couple of days a big hole has opened up in my life right now. He’s not around, me bloody bird is tripping the light fantastic on the continent and I’m running low on teabags!!! It’s one of those times that all you can do is sit and wait for the inevitable, seemingly like you have no real control of your own life, just getting on with the day to day drudgery of existence until something happens and throws the biggest spanner in your works (now normally I chuck me own spanners in me workings) I’m not relishing that time, in fact I think I will lament the passing of my own sanity with a Jack and coke!
Lamenting done, put the bottle away for the next instalment of ennui (look it up) put me game face on and walk to the big white building to my left. (Even ABC’s look of love isn’t raising my hopes of a quick withdrawal back to me flat and a comfy seat in front of me telly). Being the youngest son (and the only one not in the employ of anyone of interest) it seems that my job entailed trolling around the countryside with me dad in the passenger seat of his car grabbing an Earl Grey wherever we could find it. Now I haven’t even got that now 😳 but as always, life happens and something else will always crop up to pique me interest.
These last few days have brought life (and death) to the fore of my thoughts. My friends, my family, myself. But as always, this Adamson will get through with scant more than as catch. I will regal you all with tales of woe in the coming days’ tales that will make you think twice about the governments we do (or dont) vote into power. Look to the skies and smile.
Dec247h 