Want To Come Over For A Lamb Roast

Monday off, it has a nice ring to it, now doesn't it. It is what most of the world aspires to... don't they. Apparently. Well, I guess it isn't apparently really, it is common knowledge. Lucky me.

Buddy and I got up early and ate olive bread and drank coffee with Sam, then we walked him into the city for work. It is nice to be up early, it always makes me feel alive, it always makes me feel like I am making the most of the day. We walked Sam to the top of La Trobe Street, then we walked around the Exhibition Gardens before we walked home. There were a lot of white, puffy terriers with their owners, they were the dog du jour. It was nice, in our winter jackets warm against the brisk morning air. Well, I was in my winter jacket, Buddy was in his winter bulldog suit. (the one with the new zip. He he)

We got home before the rain fell, or as the rain fell, in its beginning of fine mist, like a translucent veil. My jacket was damp, Buddy's fur was too.

9am, just in time for coffee. I pissed around on my computer for most of the rest of the then grey day. I lit a fire. Lovely, hey?

Late in the afternoon, I went to the supermarket and bought a leg of lamb for dinner. Sam had left definite orders for some kind of roast for dinner. I can smell sage and garlic, and there are potatoes and carrots and sweet potatoes, now all sizzling away. I also got beans and corn on the cob.

Jill invited herself for dinner, when she heard what I was cooking. It was right after I told her I had bought a lot of food.

"I bought a bigger roast than I really needed, I don't know why."

"I'd love a lamb roast," she said

Which I didn't respond to... I was thinking about why I hadn't bought the smallest roast and what good will become of the extra lamb, which, in itself, I guess, is quite rude. Cold lamb sandwiches like Mark always likes. Lamb with sauce? I always think that cold meat tastes of fat no matter how much sauce you smother it in...

"Hint, hint, hint," she actually said. "Hint, hint, hint."

"Oh?" Back to earth. "Yes, of course, come over for dinner. Lamb roast."

"I'd love to," she replied... as if it had been my idea.

"7pm."

"Lovely."

Now, Jill is always late and 7pm means 7.30 in Jill time. Still, it was late in the afternoon by then and I had to get off my arse and prepare it all.

I could have panicked but I didn't. I could have drunk wine, but I didn't do that either. Maybe, I should drink more wine. I normally don't drink any, unless I am out somewhere. I would have had a joint, once, but I don't do that anymore. I haven't smoked for, well, I'm not really sure now how long, but I think it is 8 weeks and then that was just for 4 weeks, or a little longer and other than that I haven't smoked for most of the year. Who said quitting was hard. (Ha ha, it has only taken me ten years)

I just reminded myself that I can, actually, cook and I got on with it and it was done in 10 minutes, easy really, not hard. And in the oven. Shrug. Why do people think cooking is hard?

Then I made tea.