Sunday 26 March 2023

Anything worm


Lovely to feel a bit of spring in the air is it not? On Sunday evening after the clocks sprang forward, the dog walk in daylight was absolutely blissful. Suburbia was so quiet except for birdsong, everywhere. And me yelling at the dog not to eat random stuff that he finds on the pavement.

I emptied the liquid out of the bottom of the wormery the other day. It's excellent for feeding plants, but very stinky, although in a good organic sort of a way. A bit like pig manure for example. All marvellous and natural, but a bit on the pungent side. The dog thinks it is all utterly delicious. He found a tub of worm liquid with an ill-fitting lid and drank a load down. Sigh.

In fact, he likes anything worm. He often finds one on the grass and rolls on it. A bit like other dogs and things left behind by foxes. Bert doesn't do that. He has other plans for that. Then he eats the worm. I think he views them as tasty little bits of ready-to-eat meat. Like teenage boys and Fridge Raiders. Vaguely edible, although not really advisable and of relatively unknown origin. (I don't buy Fridge Raiders, for the record. Hopefully you knew that. In fact, my fridge is generally of very great disappointment to the family. Full of aubergine and kefir and kimchi, which is all viewed with a huge amount of suspicion.)

Did I tell you that I nearly superglued all of my fingers together? I am a great one for mending stuff and much of what I own is held together in various way. I was repairing my watch strap and I couldn't open the superglue. I stabbed at it and without my realising it opened and went all over my hand. By the time I noticed, I was very nearly glued solidly to both the watch strap and my own fingers. It was a very close thing. I remember when superglue was first invented, people were always gluing themselves to stuff. Now most people seem to have got the hang of it.

Apologies if I have told you that tale before. I don't have much actual news. A couple of weeks ago, two loose Alsations ran up our road. The dog was watching in the window and went absolutely beserk at the post-apocalyptic horror of it. He doesn't do well with Alsations. And they were big, and in a pack of two and completely free and alone. They trotted into the front garden of the house over the road and set off their Tibetan terriers just for the hell of it, then on they went. It was all so fast that by the time I had my shoes on and was out the door, they had vanished. I think the police rounded them up later on.

Anyway, I told the biggest boy when he rang. And then a week or two later, I told him again, in a breathless and excited sort of way. He politely told me that I had in fact already mentioned that. I was a bit deflated as that was literally all of my news. 

I have given up sugar for Lent. I always feel better for it. And also salty snacks. Oh how I love a salty snack. I have found a brilliant sugar-free flapjack recipe though. I am still having a tiny bit of dried fruit, so I am allowing myself that. 

Recipe here if you are interested. I put the soaked dates in the food processor with most of the oats and blitz them that way and it works really nicely. And I put vanilla extract in instead of cinnamon. And I don't cook them for too long. And I don't use the dried apple, but a bit of dried apricot. And sometimes some nuts. It's absolutely scrumptious. I have been looking for a good low sugar flapjack recipe for so long. 

On the 30th I believe it is my blogaversary. Ten years of blogging! That has seen the urchins through from 9, 7 and 4 to 19, 17 and 14. Oh my. And it is also the dog's birthday. Six! I am getting him a new dog bed. And if he finds a worm, maybe I won't yell. Hope all is well at your end. xx