This morning I woke in a zwodder*, looked around at all that wants doing, and wondered whether or not to stay put. This philosophical dilemma was thwarted by Harper who insisted I get up, let her out, and give her breakfast, so that’s that. And here I am.

Aaron The Pool-master came by yesterday and installed the remote control for the pool light. Clever man! With a push of a button I can now illuminate the pool to reveal any nasty things dwelling below waiting to pull me down in the dark to a dastardly demise. Alas, it’s take time of year when the pool isn’t too refreshing. The cement pond’s temperature is that of slightly cooled bath tub; a cold shower is more refreshing. It is a funny feeling to float in the dark bathed in light from below which slowly changes colour so that one moment I am in emerald green than blue than an angry purple and back again. There is no red tone which I deem sensible. That sounds too horrorshow.


Last week I asked Father to send me a photo of my grandmother so I may include it in my (nearly completed!) cookbook. After a few days I asked him had he forgotten to email me. He explained he took an actual photo out of an old album and popped the picture in the post. Oh lordy, why hadn’t he just attached it to an email? He grumbled slightly he didn’t know how to do that sort of thing and this was easier. Now I have to figure out how to get the actual photo into the cookbook – which is something I don’t know how to do. Oh the bother.

I am officially back under the tutelage of The Personal Trainer. Newer Spo-fans may not know TPT moved away a year or so ago. As a consequence I slacked off my exercise. I do better under supervision, structure, and discipline. We will try a long distance relationship where he sends me what to do. I have my fingers crossed I will become better fit, better looking, and no back injury in the process.  Today he has planned for me to do all sorts of shenanigans, the likes I haven’t done in ages. I’ve explained to him I am an old man out of shape and only recently out of an illness. Naples won’t be rebuilt in a day here.  Do let’s hope.

Finally – does anyone have a good recipe for Chicken Marsala?  While rummaging around the booze bottles I found an unopened bottle of Marsala wine.  I don’t think this is actually something one drinks (yes?) but is for cooking.  I see several recipes on the internet but I trust Spo-fans experience over a Google search. Thems who have a crock-pot recipe for such get double thanks and perhaps a prescription prize as well. It’s rawther hot here; I’d rather not heat up the stove if I can help it. Throwing everything into the intrepid crock pot sounds preferable.


*Zwodder – a drowsy and stupid state of mind. Try using it in an email today.