More of this perishing cold weather but the sun shineth and I have a casserole - pork with orange and star anise, ready in the slow cooker which has been doing its slow thing through the night in preparation for a visit to Brighton flat by Mater and spouse. Pork, you might say, is a funny thing for a vegetarian to be preparing, but I have relented somewhat. That isn't the right word but I prefer it to 'relapsed' which doesn't feel right either. The cold weather plus cooking for others means casserole, means meat. I am ok eating it occasionally but do not find I want it more than this. Mater's spouse simply wouldn't know what to do with a chick pea.
I went to a poetry workshop in the large Quaker meeting house near the sea front yesterday - the workshop leader someone I know well. The room we sat in was so reminiscent of the kind of rooms I used to teach in, and indeed the room where I attended my very first writing workshop. A combination of shabby and generous, high ceilings, old boards made of compressed sawdust, painted blue, with dog-eared notices about watercolour and meditation classes. Central heating radiators enormous and inefficient. Someone left urns full of boiled water, but nothing to make coffee or tea with. The class happened to coincide with a Make Brighton Healthy day - lovely free lunch for anyone who wanted (veg soup, tabbouleh, salads, fresh juices) and complementary therapies.
Sometimes there is such a thing as a free lunch.
5 comments:
Sounds lovely :O).....that kind of tattered hippyness. Theres a commune we visit where we have friends that is just like that. Sometimes I fantasise that I could actually live there. Do you think that ambience is a prerequisite of a certain sort of creativity ? :O)
I love the notion of a Relenting Vegetarian - maybe not the right choice of words, as you say, but it works for me.
Cusp, well the best classes I ever had both as a student and a teacher were in that kind of place. One had to put up with flaky conditions - photocopier in the hall that didn't always work, that kind of thing. But there was not a lot of Measuring or silly paperwork, we just got on with what we were there to do.
Trousers, yes - but now I'm wondering who or what it is I've relented to. The chick pea?
... so tiring to be relentless don't you think?
You reminded me of a lovely pork and orange casserole with flaked almonds and sour cream my mother used to make, and serve with rice... mmm.
I crave a writing workshop in that room or one very like it. Will have to settle for meeting my group of poets on Friday.
I agree, FB - something remorseless about relentless.
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