In the Dark

My supper tonight was so delicious, so perfect, I have to describe it. A Hereford rib-eye steak, pan-fried for 7 minutes to the consistency of cheese, soft cheese, Mozzarella maybe. I had it with new potatoes, and fried mushrooms and tomatoes, plus some cabbage in a separate bowl because my plate was so packed. I washed it all down with a small bottle of beer, and ate it in the garden room. When I'd cleaned the plate I stayed where I was in the fading light gazing out over the fields. I tried to imagine living in a town, or even a busy village, and I knew I'd shrivel up and die if I had to. I sound like a drama queen, I know, but I can't help it being true.

Last night I went to a proper "put on some make-up and get into some decent clothes, for god's sake" dinner party. There were seven of us, me the odd one out but I didn't mind. We sat in the garden sipping drinks and chatting for a good while on one of the hottest nights of the year, and then we all trooped inside to a huge round dining table lit by two large candlesticks. Our hostess had a seating plan, and we took our chairs as indicated, this adding to the theatre of the occasion. Then the food started coming. I'd noted the lines of cutlery beside my placemat with amazement, but I wasn't really prepared for the cooking. Keith Floyd and Elizabeth David and Albert Roux were all represented, suffice it to say. I can't describe two meals in the same blog. Many hours later I took my leave with the other guests, and staggered across the road in near pitch darkness. "Do you want a lift?" someone merrily asked, and I laughed back, an easy No thanks, I'm fine! But I could see nothing. It was a complete shock. I imagined falling into the ditch and having the rat for company all night, but I managed to find the lane and then my house. I'm going to have to get into the habit of carrying a torch when I go out at night. There is no lighting anywhere in the country unless the sky is light, and when it's dark you might as well be blind.