The machines. They know. My phone has clearly managed to access my blog, and has realised that I criticised it and am intending to ignore it on Saturdays. As such, it has realised that its time has come. The rebellion is at hand. After two and half years of rather questionable service (there’s a reason sony ericsson no longer exist) my phone decided to punish me by deciding enough is enough and dying. No slow decline so I could adjust and seek a new partner in communication. A clean break. Which is precisely what shall happen to the phone when I attack it with my cook’s knife. If I felt disconnected before, I am at a whole new level now. I’ve decided that I’ll just have to make the most of the free time, so we now have an abundance of sweet bread (not to be confused with sweetbreads) in the house- sort of a half way between a milk loaf and a brioche. The recipe comes from the Richard Bertinet ‘Dough’ book which I discovered last week and I would thoroughly recommend to anyone interested in bread making.
Of course, having eaten it for virtually every meal this weekend, I felt I should balance things out by having bran flakes for lunch. I’m told that this is not quite how a balanced, nutritious diet works, but I shall continue to believe so until I keel over.
In fairness, the main reason I ate bran flakes for lunch was that I was running late yet again, as I had failed to notice the time and Theo and I had to leave to see Othello at the National. I spent a good deal of the first half wishing down curses on the man in front of me who kept coughing, then abruptly stopped. He didn’t get up at the interval, so he may have choked. I have decided my curses are clearly too powerful so I shall limit them to more serious tea related crimes in the future.