My new friend and bike, Juliette, was looking particularly foxy this morning. She has been suited and booted with a new pannier rack to hold her side bag. The equivalent, I like to think, of a sassy handbag on the elbow. Her bag is red which perfectly off sets her glossy green coat. What's perhaps more worrying about my bike-doting is the fact that it was not isolation which tipped me over the edge. I humanized my bikes long before the lockdown crazies. That's right, back in BC. Reading Dervla Murphy's Full Tilt however confirms that I am not alone in this, she also names her bike and, rather inspiringly, cycles to India on her. Though she would probably go one step further and use the preposition 'with'. They, like Juliette and I, are a team. We've heard of man and dog--what about woman and bike?
The reason for the use of side bags on this sunny Saturday was to collect my organic vegetable order. This is not something I do often enough, mainly because I'm a terrible cook. Correction. A lazy cook and tend to waste the beautifully fresh and unusual varieties of veg which come in--coated in soil as direct proof of their wholesome origins. This week the bounty consists of kale, sprouts, turnip, carrot, Jerusalem artichoke and, of course, shpuds. A very Irish vegetable box for a very Irish vegetarian (I eat meat when it's on my plate). Any recipe ideas, ideally incorporating any of the above vegetables, for a can-cook-but-doesn't-enough-and-needs-to-be-eased-into-it sorta gal?
Shortly I shall be logging onto another, I'm sure smashing, workshop with afore mentioned theatre- company-of-the-same-name, who are very much 'as described' (see 'day 19' for more deets) and getting my much needed hit of theatre. Right into the veins. It should see me over until the middle of next week--I'm hoping. Let my blogs be the judge of that.
xoxo on yer bike
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