Week 3

As always I am vexingly late to my own party.  For two long weeks I have been trying to post some thoughts but effing Blogger doesn't now support its own effing app, so when I tried to write, the text repeatedly vanished.  And then when I logged in on ye olde computer to try again, freaking Google has so much security that I nearly didn't get in.  Like withdrawing cash over the bank counter, Blogger is now too secure for the only person who actually needs access.

What the EFF.

Where was I?  Oh yes, into week 3 and only scanty notes about weeks 1 and 2 - the golden times, the halcyon days of my build!  But if I get all completist and go back to week 1 I will never get started, so here I am, mid-thought.

It is already week 3 of the kitchen build!  I say that as if the past two weeks have sped by, but in reality living in a building site, riddled with anxiety and decision making, is the utmost best best best way to slow time in the unslowable middle years of life. 

Week 3 so far has a very fun site meeting.  I genuinely love this, and teeter about on planks of wood, or stand in wellingtons with my hands on my hips saying helpful things like 'Is there a reason the downpipe can't just go on the extension roof? How long before you can build over that concrete square?  How much does steel cost?' and more.  I'm practically indispensable.

Whilst building updates make me misty-eyed with pre-emptive sentimental feeling, what I was really noting down here was what to eat when 'between kitchens', as HG says.  To help future me on, say, week 7, when I am showing symptoms of scurvy.

I can't WAIT to go back to weeks 1 and 2 (what days!) however in week 3 I have been very bad indeed about not being prepared.  My budget, you will recall from week 1* is £10 per day.  The kitchen set up you will recall with equal freshness of mind* is a work kitchen, at work; and at home, a microwave, kettle and fridge - but with the added challenge of being in the work place of the building site.  The dear builder even pulled in a sink so there is running cold water, though no drain, so only a bucket beneath.

Weeks 1 and 2 I did so well so it must be inevitable that Monday of week 3, the last Monday in January, I broke the budget. I gorged on a Costa-coffee-cake breakfast; an overpriced sandwich at lunch, eaten in 0.8 seconds; then stayed too late at work, hungry, so ate out.  I decided if I was going to break the budget it would at least not be in the centre of town, I would instead take my money south of the river and eat locally.  The trains were the coin-toss, and the first train I could catch took me to The Station, where I had a Vietnamese vegetable curry, a glass of wine and crumble with cream.  Well, once you start eating it makes you sad when you have to stop again. As I waddled home I decided that for £22 I was both warm and full, so it wasn't a terrible move.  Plus it feels so civilised to eat off of china rather than out of plastic.

My resolution was no better this morning: home made beans on toast at Archibalds, with coffee; a hasty salad from Pret (I wasn't even trying by this point); and a redeeming microwave meal of cauliflower cheese with rice.  Random and at £2.50 bang on budget, had I been sticking to it.

Now I need to don my wellingtons and put on the kettle for a mint tea and hot water bottle. I'm back in my own bed now, after a spell on the sofa, so am making the most of the comfort - while it lasts.



*when I write the posts