Reading and knitting, it must be winter. I do so love winter. Alicia put it well when she said, 'Nothing out there needs me.' I rewound my yarn which the puppy had messed up and I've started knitting again late at night when my brain is good for little else. Before, I was trying to knit with two great messy piles of wool and it put me off, having to do battle with it every time I did a couple of rows. Order is been restored now though and I'm away.
I'm reading Into The Water by Paula Hawkins. Not sure if I like it. I'm a bit confused to be honest. I don't always concentrate enough when I read and I lose track of who all the people are and what they've done. I could do with a list of them at the front of the book for reference. I've also been reading Eat That Frog! by Brian Tracy, about productivity. I often find myself gazing out the window thinking about productivity. I am hoping Brian will help me with the whole concentrating and focusing thing.
I happened to be passing the churchyard today and I remembered to take some photos of the snowdrops. The winter sky looked lovely above the castle, all birds in bare trees and bunches of mistletoe.
There's an overgrown corner of the graveyard and every year it's covered in snowdrops. I just had the little camera with me, but you get the idea.
One last month of winter to enjoy before the things out there start needing me.
On another note, does anyone understand what the deal with paprika is? The biggest boy needed some for school cookery. It really tastes rather blah to me. Am I missing something? Do I not have the requisite taste buds? Fancy chefs are always waxing lyrical about smoked paprika and spiciness and warmth and on and on. I'm just not getting anything. It's a mystery. I don't understand parsley either. Coriander yes, delicious. Parsley, not feeling it. I have a feeling it's all too subtle for me. I need something unambiguous like a bit hit of lemon or a thuggish dried tomato.
We have a French student coming to stay later in the year. I fear I will have to up my game. Oven chips and baked beans will not cut the mustard. He has already written to say that in France the plates are very good. We have taken it to mean the food on the plates, although of course they may have very fine china as well.
I am in dire need of impressive yet simple recipes to appeal to the sophisticated French palate. Send help. But nothing tricky that will tip me over the edge (remembering of course that I permanently inhabit a place very near the edge as it is). I have paprika, if that helps.