Love and Food

Buddy was very sleepy this morning when we let him in, some mornings you can see that he just wants to stay in his kennel. He headed straight into the study and lay under the desk on the carpet, flat out, nose – such as a Bulldog's nose is – between his paws.

That was until I called him.

“Come and entertain us bulldog, come and perform tricks and be funny and earn your keep. Come and make us laugh.”

Then he came and sat between us at the coffee table, his eyes closing slowly, his chin drooping repeatedly, his head sinking towards the ground. We ended up both patting either side of his head, with our spoon, crumpet in our other respective hands. His eyes closed again. Does he think he is here just for his benefit? Man’s best friend. It’s funny that man has killed and made enemies of so many species on this planet and yet the dog and man are best friends. The dog prevailed where no other animal did. Two pack animals, I guess.

Sam was gone before I was. But then, I was out the door at 8.10am myself. Out the door at 8.10am, my how back into the swing of it all we suddenly are. I stopped momentarily with my hand on the driver’s door handle and gazed to the sky and many images ran through my mind… I shook my head and got into the car. 8.15am said the clock on the dashboard as I reached for the roller door remote. Tick, tick, tick, go the mornings.

It is still wintery. Grey. Overcast. I am waiting for the cold weather to click off suddenly, like it did last year. I'm hoping it will click over. I seem to remember, about this time last year, one day it was cold and the very next day it was much, much warmer. And the winter was gone. Is it global warming? Who cares really? I just don't want to buy another load of firewood this year.

The working days are passing quickly. I have a nice team to work with. We all chat and laugh all day, you can't ask for much more than that. The office, the hallways, the kitchen out the back, all seem so familiar to me now.


It was raining as I walked to the car, after work. There is a certain melancholy walking to a wet, half empty car park on a damp, grey afternoon. All the cars sitting silently as the gravel crunches under your feet.

Sam called me halfway home, “Where are you?”

“I’m nearly home.”

“Oh good, go to the supermarket and get salad and sausages.”

“What?” I asked. Oh really? I guess I could do that.

“Go to the supermarket and get sausages and salad,” he repeated. “Or, anything you like, it is up to you. Be imaginative.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m nearly home too, but it is cold and wet and I don’t want to go out again.”

“I see. Really?”

“Follow my instructions,” he said. “You have a car.” Sam thinks I need supervision to shop successfully. He thinks I am “vague” when it comes to such things.

What could I say? He so often goes into the supermarket as I wait outside with Buddy. He usually drives the whole “dinner experience,” I had no choice but to obey. He, he, ha, ha. (It's our little joke) Sam so often says, if you follow my instructions everything will be fine. It is that simple.

He’s funny, he makes me laugh. I let him think he runs the show… you know how relationships go…

At the supermarket I got more phone calls. He doesn’t really trust me to remember the finer details, which kind of suits me because then I don’t, actually, have to remember them. “Sms it to me, honey.” I got a long shopping list in instalments via text, as I tried to order black olives and feta cheese from Mr Blue-eyes behind the deli counter at Woolies.

"Would you like something else?" asked Blue eyes as I reread my text message.

"Oh, um, er..." I mustn’t forget cat food. “Ah… no.” Smile.

Apparently, I could decide. I could decide? The world was wide open to me, anything was possible. But, rather unimaginably, I decided to go with the sausages.

“Don’t buy the boring ones,” Sam said. “Be imaginative.”

Be imaginative? Be imaginative. What?

It was the end of the day. It was raining. It was cold. Who can think? What did he say first? Sausages and salad. There was chicken and pork. Chicken sausages? They were white. That is just a crime against nature. And Pork? It just seems like a waste of good pork, although I could be tempted.

I bought herb & garlic, and honey & sage. I couldn’t decide. I moved from one foot to the other as I stood in front of the sausage fridge and wondered. I felt the pressure, “don’t be boring.” I could have played it safe and bought chorizo or bratwurst or white rhino, but that almost seemed too obvious, so therefore, in itself, boring. I wanted simple and classic, so that is why I went for what I did.

I got raised eyebrows for buying too much, when I thought I’d get brownie points for choice. So many sausages, there was too much to eat in one meal. What was I thinking, so now the (unnecessary) pressure is on to eat all the sausages that were bought before they spoil.

Stupid me.

I tousled Sam’s hair and he rolled his eyes and laughed in equal measure.

The sausages were lovely, we chose the herb and garlic ones. The salad was lovely, the key to a good salad is avocado, I always think. And then the second key ingredient is feta cheese.