|A feast for us, and leaves for the hens|
Those who read this blog occasionally may well wonder why beetroot is significant today, especially since I have not posted for three months. But those who follow me on Facebook may well understand when I mention the word 'kitchen' which has been a stranger to me since the refurbishment began so many months ago. A stranger in the sense that I have been without running water, sink, cooker and dishwasher for much of that time. The grit and dust is interminable, and as RQ commented tonight to our younger son, it's half an inch thick ALL OVER THE HOUSE. Well not quite as bad as that but pretty horrendous. And as RQ continues the grinding, we live in the motorhome during the day.
Until this evening: although there is still weeks of work until all is finished, the cooker and sink are reconnected and I prepared our supper in the house again. Hence the significance of beetroot, for I prepared a huge dishful, grown in the garden, boiled and cooled, sliced and doused in malt vinegar to preserve it until all is eaten. So delicious and a vegetable apart when compared with shop-bought. I could not have done this in the m'home (well I could, but the steam would have been impossible). So we delighted in the beetroot and my dilemma is, how will I know where anything is for I will now be preparing meals again in two places - m'home during the day when dust flies everywhere, and the unfinished kitchen in the evening - such a LARGE space - when tools are put away. Oh such delights that are yet to come.