I wonder just how many people cook a traditional Sunday lunch these days. When I was a child I think most women did the traditional roast for the family. We had beef, lamb and pork in that order. On Sunday it would be roast and served after (not with) Yorkshire puddings and gravy, and all the vegetables available in our own garden. Then there would be a pudding - probably apple pie and custard, or sometimes an egg custard in a pastry case and sprinkled with a thick layer of nutmeg. The next day we would have the meat cold and the veggies fried, the day after probably cottage pie with a mashed potato topping. Housewives were (or always seemed to be) careful and thrifty.
Now that the large majority of women work as well, traditional Sunday lunch may be almost a thing of the past. We manage to get ours when we feel like it by visiting our local golf club at Catterick Garrison, which is open for non-members and always very busy. Today the farmer had roast beef and I had roast chicken. The farmer being a traditionalist, started his meal with vegetable soup; I opted for garlic mushrooms, which were delicious but so filling that I found it hard to do justice to my main course of roast chicken.
Alright - there are no left-overs to use up tomorrow, but I can live with that in return for no work to do preparing the lunch this morning.
It is a bleak, raw, Winter's day - icy wind, dull, sharp sleety showers - nothing to commend it really. Now that we have returned (and feel like absolutely nothing more to eat today) we have to sort out the papers for changing our car for a new one tomorrow. I am busy sorting out our holiday in early May, when we intend to visit Aldebrough in Suffolk after a short break in Lincoln (my home town)so I am searching for a nice hotel. Alright, May is a long time yet, but once it is booked then I can begin to look for places to go and things to do. The Magna Carta is on display from mid March at Lincoln Cathedral, so we are keen to see that and always stay at the same hotel, just round the corner from the cathedral.
As my sister got into her eighties she always used to say that she could cope with whatever life threw at her, providing that she always had something to look forward to. As I get to that age I know exactly what she means - so planning ahead and writing dates in the diary is always an enjoyable activity.