Giving and getting

Life is not ideal at the moment. Nothing dire, but increasing hints of meh and solitude. This is really how I thought I'd feel when we were first sent home: without a sense of purpose. There's a wee bit of work on, but it's diminishing. I don't know what happens after that.

However, as a wise person has recently said (Kate J, as it happens), one of the things we'll remember about this strange, sad time is just how generous and positive so many people have been. Stepping up for each other, reaching out, and giving. I've blogged about the joy of getting lovely things. I've also really enjoyed sending stuff out, mostly terrible postcards of my workplace, as a moment of connection. There's a special joy in being sent something that's very personal and thoughtful, especially on a bad day.

There's also, frankly, a special joy in being sent something you can cook. Liz blogged about her most enviable lentil dish, with her most enviable lentils, and I drooled.

And this is extra pleasing

Then the post brought me... riches! Thank you, Liz.

What could be nicer to receive?

Obviously, I made Liz's lentils as per her recipe. I'm still in my veggie week, so no sausages and bacon in this version. But I did have a good slug of dry vermouth and some smoked paprika to hand. That worked gorgeously.

*faint moaning noise* This was so nice, even though I've just finished I want some more

Served it with a big handful of rocket, with a dressing full of Dijon mustard and lemon (seriously, more of those than oil), and some pongy leftover bits of goat cheese. Tomorrow, I'll stir a load of dill in when I'm warming it up, and more rocket as well. I also have some leftover, uh, houmous, which surely won't be the worst thing you've ever put on a plate with this deliciousness? It needs to go, anyway. And then lentils will be faaabulous.

Meanwhile, I've planned a long Bank Holiday weekend stuffed with online culture and yoga. And a wee bit of cookery.