I see in today's Sunday Telegraph( I take it as an alternative to my weekday Times, but am getting tired of it because it is so difficult to manipulate as it hasn't gone tabloid,) that High Fearnely Whitttingstall is complaining about the labelling of Supermarket produce. I have long felt this and have tried, in my shopping days, never to fall into the trap of believing what it says on the packet. He speaks of 'traditional farm' and 'farm fresh' as examples and complains of how supermarkets have made up names of farms in order to give 'a subliminal reassurance that customers are buying a product which is good for the environment'.
I eat very little meat and a lot of vegetables. In my days on the farm the farmer had a big vegetable garden and we always had a selection with our dinner every day. Then when I moved here almost four years ago after the farmer died, I bought fresh vegetables and kept frozen as a back up. Now my carer brings me a cooked lunch every day - salad twice a week - today is one of my salad days. She is a keen veggie eater so I still enjoy that kind of diet. Meat I could almost do without but I remember how my mother, who absolutely loved meat, used to love a good piece of sirloin of beef. I still recall the best piece of beef I ever cooked. At the farm we often had friends staying. I ordered a piece of rare breed beef for Sunday lunch from our local Deli. It was Highland Beef and when I unwrapped it it was a large piece of Sirloin and it was totally marbled with veins of fat. I do not like fat meat and I was horrified but I cooked it. When it came out of the oven there was no sign of that marbling - it had melted away into the lean meat and it was, without a doubt, the best piece of meat we had ever had. Now I prefer to not eat meat - I love fish and I love quiche and when my carer brings my lunch with meat I eat it - but I love salad days best.
It is cold, wet and windy here today. The weatherman talks blithely about how warm and sunny it is set to be tomorrow but today the wind is too strong to allow me to walk with Priscilla. She is very capricious and temperamental when it is windy and I rather feel she has a bit of a desire to really blow me off course. Percy was never like that - he always had my intere - sts at heart.
When one lives alone in these Covid times Sundays are never very cheerful days. In the weekdays various people I know walk past on their 'allowed' dog walks - a wave, a cheery Good Morning, or even a couple of minutes chat - all make the world go round. Sundays everyone seems to 'go to earth' and everywhere is quiet. Hopefully this will change when we come out of Lockdown enough to at least meet others for a chat outdoors.
See you tomorrow.