Shortly after 5.30 on Saturday evening, I climbed a ladder and ‘broke’ into my house through a first floor window – the only front facing window not locked. I could have kicked the front door in, broken a window, or behaved rationally and arranged for a locksmith to gain entry for me.
I had to gain entry to my own house because I had left my motorbike bumbag in my office, inside the house. I ride a motorbike and use a bumbag to carry keys, cigarettes, wallet, passport, lighters, and other life support systems. I use the bumbag even when I am not riding my bike. Yesterday evening I collected my laptop and wandered over to The Bollo for a glass or two of Rioja. Realising that I did not have my bumbag with me, I returned to the house. The door and downstairs windows were, of course, locked. But, fortunately, on this occasion, I had left an upstairs window unlocked. Fortune favoured me. A Polish builder, working on a house four doors down, was just driving off. I flagged him down, explained the problem, and asked to borrow his ladders. He was happy to assist. I retrieved my bumbag.
It was an interesting way to start my evening and I was able to return to The Bollo. The rioja tasted good and I started to blog – sitting outside. The few spatters of rain did not trouble me unduly. The front awnings provide good shelter.
Reading the lifestyle section of The Times, I saw a picture of celebrated chef, Rick Stein, with spaghetti hanging out of his mouth – not a particularly attractive spectacle. I am bored with all these endless articles on food and celebrity chefs droning on about yet another rare dish recipe they have ‘taken inspiration from’ from some poor peasants in Sicily or other exotic destination for the edification of their rich clientele in the UK. How many cookbooks can the British public consume? Why not just buy the cookbooks published last year at a bargain ‘remaindered’ price from a small independent bookshop? The recipes still work and even if the book is second hand, like some student owned law books, it will probably be in mint condition.
And… now I am about to depart, with my bumbag and laptop, to a place of seclusion to digest the Sunday papers (perhaps a few glasses of Rioja) and blog.