Afternoon

I celebrated finishing Molly's three linen curtains with an Oslo sandwich, does anyone remember them? Homemade bread, butter, Vegemite and lettuce. Not somethng that usually tempts me but after a sophisticated lunch involving marinated and pounded chicken, roasted corn, fresh salsa and salads and wonderful almonds fried in bacon fat and dried off in soy sauce, I wanted a homely treat.

It has been a quietly incandescent afternoon, bright and blowy, William was over and we all settled down, busy in various pursuits, stopping to chat or eat cherries and watermelon. Lovely.

My fingernails have never looked so clean thanks to primer; I was reminded that painting was one of Sheila's hints to combat Gardener's Cuticle. Good thing I didn't get too messy with the blue now inside the kitchen upper cupboards, the exact blue traditional Greeks use to keep insects away. I sorted and chucked while I was at it, alphabetacized the spices wondering why fully half of them began with 'c', created a 'baking cupboard' and a coffee tea and jam cupboard, a tins of things cupboard and on and on. I indulged myself by buying only good sea salt, no lingering Morton's, found six tins of anchovies (salade Nicoise throughout the summer) and three enormous bottles of olive oil. Um.

While waiting for the arrival of the new countertops I tracked down and bought my longed for continuous power strips, called Plugmolds. Plugmolds. There's one company without a PR department. Every kitchen should have them, power every six inches, and I might spray mine violet. If it looks dreadful I'll spray again but I am enraptured by the idea of a thread of violet against all the tones of grey from slate to silver.

Stefan has announced that he intends to drink himself silly now so I had better cook and save him from the fatal second glass. Nothing more righteous than a teetotaller.