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Wednesday 8th March 2006
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A****** went to the doctor's today, but it was all fine. Maybe it's just one of those things . . . that's what the doctors said, and that was also what they said after my third grand-mal seizure. It's just one of those things. We also did look around an end terrace house in Warton. It was on the main road, close to the ruin of an abbey, shortly to go up for auction (the house, not the abbey). The viewings were being done as a kind of mass-viewing thing, and quite a lot of the parking outside the house was taken up with transit vans, rather ominously. But yeah . . . lovely house, built some time in the 1890s, but a bit of a state, a tiny kitchen, and a tiny yard to the rear. Not that one then. On the way back, I heard this crinkling noise from the back seat. A******, strapped up in his car seat, had managed to reach the pack of rich tea biscuits from M****'s ruck-sack, pulled them out and was about to tuck in. Presumably must be feeling better then.
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Tonight I did also make some lime pickle. I kind of used this recipe, but also added a load of ginger (can't hurt, can it?) and topped up the mixture with a bit of cider vinegar. Oh, and four red chillies? That must be a mis-print. Instead, I bought this freaky selection pack from Booths that involved a selection of chillies (five altogether), including my favourite: the habanero. We'll see. I now have to leave it to stew for a few days.
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