Well. We've been here before, haven't we? Variants, sequencing, abrupt travel bans, worried doomscrolling, Christmas on the horizon, but is it really? As Helen noted, the twitter announcement about delays to issuing a brilliant cocktail newsletter "Some technical issues with the Spirits" feels like a bit of a strapline for this week. I've had Friday off due to ludicrous optimism in the first half of the year leading to me hoarding leave on the grounds I could travel later on... hah. Lots of Fridays off lately. And apart from productively doing a buttload of marking and unpaid professional obligations, I mostly fretted. And watched Christmas films, because I have no joy at the moment and I need to fake some.
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| This also works for joy purposes |
But the Spirits is out, so I'll be doing something with rum before long, and who knows, perhaps Omicron or is it Nu Variant will become just a punnable memory of late pandemic, rather than the thing that we remember for "fourth lockdown". (Have you noticed we still do that? When describing time, was it first, second or third lockdown? We find our own ways round the time. I really, really hope we don't need to keep that up.)
Meanwhile, I am back on lentils, with the first slightly duff recipe from an A-Z of Pasta: supposed to be ditalini with lentils, though in this case orzo. I still associate lentils with Liz, though her first-lockdown postage is long used up. These are not a fitting memorial, let's say. If you do make it, salt heavily at least. Though salvaged with mustard, olive oil, and what I'm choosing to call "fresh herbs" despite also being "what's left in the fridge the day before you do the weekly shop".
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It's okay. We'll get through this. Whether "this" is lockdown 4, a long tense watching period, or just a slightly weird Christmas with way more nasal swabbing than we used to fit into our festivities. Either way, I imagine we will continue to suffer the telly adverts remaining aggressively determined that Nothing Is Going To Stop The Festivities, even though demonstrably things can and do. But we shall get through all the same.
If all else fails, fake cheer. These (Waitrose, salted caramel chocs) are not only quite nice, and extremely sparkly, they leave gold sheen on your lips as if lipstick wasn't a vestige of the pre-mask era. Recommended.
See you for Confined Cocktails tomorrow?
"As if lipstick wasn't a vestige of the pre-mask era" is a phrase that has instantly lodged in my brain. If nothing else (and there is in fact plenty else), you have a way with words.
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