Spells of bright weather don't last long. The sky was clouding over again by the time I got up for breakfast this morning. Clare went off to town to buy some new leather boots. I spent time writing, then started to make a load of bread and cook lunch at the same time. Somehow I managed to multi-task without having a disaster. After we'd eaten, the bread went into the oven and came out again perfectly baked at three. On this occasion, Clare had added the dried yeast to the mixture of flour before leaving, something I normally do. I had to call her and check. The dough rose more rapidly than usual as it would do on a warm spring or summer day. Clare added more dried yeast than I do. Lesson learned!
I went to the Co-op for groceries, then to Tesco's and Beanfreaks for things on the list not available in the Co-op. The shopping trolley was heavy on the home run and unstable on bumpy pavements due to its poor design. I bought a large pack of chicken breast pieces and put them straight into the oven to cook while I went out and walked for an hour before supper. After we'd eaten I watched two episodes of 'The Chateau Murders' on More Four, set in a snowy Quebec. It seems such a long time since Cardiff was covered with a layer of snow lasting for more than a few hours. The sight made me feel quite nostalgic, remembering winters in Geneva thirty years ago, and the excitement of snow covered rural landscape and the promise of skiing. An experience I never expected to have which came my way for the first time in my late forties and brought with it such joy and wonder.
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