"Pork and Separates"

It's been quite a nice day today. I spoke to my brother Matt over the occasional wonder that is MSN. He's all the way in Australia, on the Queensland coast, and yet here I am on webcam waving at him and talking. He has a microphone and I can hear him, but I can't see him yet because he doesn't have a camera, but he'll have one next weekend and we'll talk again then. I spoke to his son (my nephew) Jack yesterday. Jack lives in New South Wales. I could see Jack, because Jack has a webcam, but I couldn't talk to Jack because he doesn't have a microphone. I could ask him questions and he could nod for yes and shake for no. Which is OK, but it can get a bit one-sided, eh Jack?

The other good thing that happened today was that I managed to go for a run and make it the whole way - a glorious four or five miles. J cycled alongside me and I ran down past the golfcourse, along the side of Verulamium Park, up the hill to Waitrose, along to the horrid roundabout, down past the Abbet Theatre, up through the center of town, took a right by Devda's (the indian restaurant), along the side of Bernard's Heath, then left into our road. And all that with largely functioning tendons and scarcely a twinge in my calves. It's the magic new shoes - well overdue - that made it OK.

I (14yo) has been out at the rugby club, her new-found passion, just back and she's drenched to the bone. It's that lovely limey soft rain today, warm enough to entice you out into it, although I'm concerned that the lawn is going to need yet another mow before the season draws in. The trees are still largely green and I'm half expecting the apple tree to bloom again at any minute.

I'm on meal duty on Sundays. Last week's two gallons of chicken soup wasn't popular and to stem the wails at the excess quantities, I promised to eat it all myself over the course of the week. I got through it by Thursday night. J, especially, is not partial to "all in the pot"-style meals. He prefers to have each part as a clear entity. When we go for an Indian meal, J will want Tandoori chicken on its own. So, J's spirits soared when I told him it was "Pork and separates" tonight, the separates being each veg, with no messing about. I think this is probably indicative of some sort of organisational competency. J's room is tidy and he organises his time. I (14yo), however, has an "all in the pot"-style room. The door, on the few occasions that it left ajar, releases the smell of a sort of slow cooking, or perhaps more accurately, composting, from within. P found a half-empty jar of pesto under an old pile of clothes in I's room recently. When I do the rubbish on a Thursday morning, it is largely an academic exercise as to whether or not I pay I's room a visit. I likes "all in the pot"- style food - and so, as I look around me, so do I.