Denniblog

This is the last of the seasonal game for now…

Mixed Game Casserole with Blueberries & mashed Root Vegetables
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I’m sick of the comment spambots that target this blog. Since nobody is talking to me anyway, I’ll close the comment options on new posts from now on (if I remember).

The spam is targeted at posts about 2-3 weeks old, so it will still crop up, but hopefully there will be less of it. What sad bastard reads the comments for old posts anyway?

Yesterday, I was on a mission.

Good things can come from going to travel shows. At the recent Daily Telegraph Travel & Adventure Show in Kensington, I hung out at the desk of a company that organises tours to some of the most spectacular whalewatching destinations on the planet. Of course I could not afford to go on one of the trips, but I spent some time talking to the woman running the stall. Soon I brought up East Sri Lanka—not so long ago one of the most promising destinations and now devastated by the tsunami. Whalewatch tourism would be an enormous boost to the affected communities, not to mention provide vital support to cash-stripped researchers. I launched into a mini-lecture while the woman listened slightly startled but with growing enthusiasm, then she pushed a pen and paper across the desk. I scribbled some notes and a few days later an email from the company’s founder landed in my inbox; inviting me to a meeting in Brighton.
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Roast Partridge with Potato & Celeriac Gratin
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Until I have booked the flight, nothing is cast in stone. I do not need to go to Thailand or to SE Asia—I could go anywhere in the world. My only constraint is the budget: £1500 all-in. The destination and duration of the trip depend solely on the cost factor. Back in 1984, I travelled around Africa for nine months for about half that amount.
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I have noticed a strange phenomenon. Occasionally, when I wake up in the morning, golden light streams through the windows and the sky is a strange eggshell blue. It is sunny—in January! Apparently here in the South of England only 52% of days are overcast. No wonder that caterpillars feed in winter!

It doesn’t make me give up on my plans to move to Brisbane, though.

At first, the only signs of past life in the house were the papery, dried-out carcasses of flies on the windowsills, but now the place is gradually being recolonized by local wildlife. Yesterday I spotted a woodlouse crawl slowly across the foorboards and the first tiny spiders have started to appear in the bathroom and kitchen—no doubt they will grow much bigger. But an oddity that puzzles me is The Invasion of the Green Caterpillars.
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The TV licensing people in this country are nasty and vicious people who should have been out of a job by the time ITV was introduced—although I have little doubt that they will go on to find gainful employment as debt collectors or enforcers.
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There is a farm shop in the area! It is not actually in Tadley but in a six-house-hamlet that calls itself ‘Little London’(!). As soon as we could, we beat a path to its door. It was not strong on greens, but it has seasonal game. So for the time being, our Sunday dinners focus on that. And with fresh (if overpriced) vegetables from the farmer’s market in Islington, we are all set on the food front:
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Good timing, this. I’ve just run out of books (still not signed on for the living-room-sized library down the road)—but I have acquired enough travel brochures and magazines for weeks of browsing.
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