My sister, who is responsible in large part for my blooming mental health, accused me last week. You don’t buy treats! she said. In one way she is right, I don’t buy a lot of stuff, but on the other hand I have just about everything I want.
So this week I have done my best. My old blender died some time ago and I missed it, but this time I read the reviews and bought an OmniBlend3. What a step up! While the husband is away (he said there was too much going on here and decamped to Laguna Beach for a week) I have been living on green smoothies and practically glow in the dark. There is no doubt about it, every now and then it is refreshing to eat ladies’ food – and slimming.
I cracked my beloved ceramic mandolin, and while I was replacing it I bought the Microplane box grater I have been coveting for years. Another revelation! Graters get dull! Lavish parmesan on asparagus for dinner, in fact lavish fruits and vegetables all round, white peaches, bella mushrooms, new potatoes, herbs from the garden. Tonight is the first time I have eaten chicken, I just haven’t wanted meat. Or coffee or wine. Possibly it is the heat of course, or maybe that Californian produce is just so good. Whatever it is I am enjoying it, and that is a treat in itself.
White lilies are blooming in the garden so I brought one pot in to sit by my bed, and I can smell their perfume all night. In the old days nurses took plants and flowers away at night because (they said) they used up the air. How much air, I wonder? On that theory everyone should sleep alone.
Poetry at night is a great treat, candle light, finally learning about music late in my ignorant life, and this morning sewing a large order of raw-edged cocktail napkins, the frivolous bonnes bouches of the linen world. Better than therapy.