Friday greetings, friends,
I’ve been thinking about the days of the week recently and have just realised that I start my weekly letter to you with one, I’m not sure why, because you all know what day it is and some of you could well read this on another day any way! It all started when Margery told me about a visit to a friend in sheltered housing when she noticed a card with ‘Wednesday’ on it in her front window. Her friend explained that the warden had given all the residents cards with each day of the week on and asked them to change the card to the correct day when they got up in the mornings. This was the warden’s signal that all was well with them and gave her more time to spend with people who hadn’t changed the day and probably needed help. I’d never heard of this before but thought it both simple and ingenious.
In retirement, I sometimes find it difficult to remember which day it is, but, as I child, there was never any problem. If you were eating a roast dinner it had to be Sunday, cold meat and bubble and squeak meant Monday, Cornish under roast was Tuesday, braised steak on Wednesdays, stew on a Thursday, bacon and eggs on a Friday and then a casserole on Saturdays. (Other people had ‘under roast’ but my mother always called it ‘Cornish under roast’ because she was Welsh and hadn’t been brought up with it!)
It seems strange to me now, that apart from the summer when salads were included in our diet, our menu rarely changed. Of course there was a reason for most of the choices. Monday, whatever the weather, was washday and, as it took up most of the day, it made sense for the Sunday leftovers to be rustled up into a quick meal. Friday was ‘baking day’ so our meal had to be cooked on the hot plates as the oven was always full of cakes.
Apart from years of making pasties on Saturdays and roasts on Sundays I’ve never had a strict meal regime like my mother. When we were first married if I cooked David something he’d never eaten before he’d joke, ‘Is this all right to eat?’ Sometimes he would say, ‘that was delicious, what’s it called?’ and I would answer, ‘I don’t know, it hasn’t been christened yet!’ My mother did mainly ‘one pot’ meals for a family of six whereas mine were more ‘pot luck.’ I made sweet and sour pork one night and then, seeing the look on David’s face, I said in my defence, ‘I don’t expect the Chinese got it right first time either!’
A Lawyer’s Prayer:-
“We respectively request, and entreat, that due and
adequate provisions be made this day and the date
hereinafter subscribed, for the organizing of such
methods and allocations and distributions as may be
deemed necessary to properly assure the reception by
and for said petitioner of such quantities of baked
cereal products as shall, in the judgment of the
Provider, constitute a sufficient supply thereof.”
Interpretation: “Give us this day our daily bread.”
Love to you all, wherever you are and whatever you’re doing,