The first half of July was dominated by the World Cup and a visit from family. If you’re wondering how Guardianista snowflakes like us who live nowhere near a proper English pub watch the footie, it goes like this:
|Watching the match on the sofa while eating courgette fritters, fattoush salad and cacik dip,|
and drinking homemade cider. So Guardian it’s painful. God, I miss Wetherspoons.
We didn’t venture far with our visitors. We just made the most of the local countryside and (temporary) hot weather. (It’s since returned to being stormy and wet most days – we’re not having a stellar summer.)
|…and a stork on one of the nearby houses. Here, seeing a stork on your house|
is supposed to bring good luck.
|A grown-ass man on a woodland swing, loving life.|
Sometimes our cats do weird things when we have visitors. Like that time Pepper refused to eat her food if Rob’s parents were in the same room. Or that time Pepper moved into the cupboard under the sink for a week. (She’s not the most sociable lady cat.) This time, Iggy took to ignoring our laps and sleeping every evening in the small wicker basket we use to dump our phones/bits and bobs in.
Meanwhile, in veg news, I harvested my first ever lettuce from the garden. I repeat, my First. Ever. Lettuce. After five years of trying and failing, lettuce is no longer my nemesis.
|We’re roasting down surplus tomatoes every week to blitz up and store in the freezer.|
These yellow tomatoes make the most amazing golden passata, which I think
will look (and taste) great in curries.
And, finally, the back terrace is finished, giving us a swish area right outside the back door to enjoy a pot of tea and survey our empire. Life’s good.
|Rob’s homemade table. I’m so lucky he’s a carpentry genius…|