I sort of wish I hadn't started the 'about me' thing. I meant it to be a sweeping and generalised background to explain 'where my head is at', but the memories it has generated over the last couple of days could turn into a whole flaming book and I don't like the way my ego perks up and looks ready for action, like a dog that vaguely heard the word 'lead' or 'park' being mentioned, when I consider writing some more.
So this isn't that.
Generally speaking I like blue cheese. Mid summer, finding an exotic sandwich shop down some tourist-free backstreet or other, the idea of a baguette containing Stilton along with its other burgeoning, glistening fillings is enough to make me, well quite happy. Content.
Now, with the kids back at school and husband back at work, it has somehow lost its glamour. The first two weeks of January are traditionally, in our house at least, the time when the fridge has to be slowly relieved of all the still fresh foods that weren't completely consumed over the holidays and to that end (also because its a slightly tight month for cash) we buy only the basics; bread, milk and ingredients for 'proper dinners' such as mince.
So how exactly is this stuff supposed to get eaten? These dregs that no-one fancied enough to polish them off in the first place?
Here I am then, facing a near empty fridge, wondering whether to try and force down blue cheese on toast or a stilton and mayonnaise sandwich, or whether to go without altogether. Somehow, with a sliced loaf at my disposal instead of a warm, scented crusty baguette; with no grapes or bacon to soften the flavour, this is beginning to feel like purgatory. Even with all those things I doubt I could face it - Christmas, in this case, seems to have amounted to aversion therapy.
Back to just coffee, then.