We have spent the day tooling around, driving through Wells and poking about Glastonbury. We let the kids (5 between us) climb over the Abbey ruins and up to the top of Glastonbury Tor (a local word for pointy hill). After we have had enough of working up a fine appetite in the chill breeze, we stop at the local pub for ginger beer fortification for the 8-mile trek back, over windy roads on the wrong side of the road.
This place is not our home, but we love being able to dip into the lives of people who live here and people we love. To break bread together is a familiar ritual we have engaged in with them many times before, and will certainly continue to do at different junctures in our lives.
I finally curl up to write in front of an old stone fireplace in a stone cottage at our friend's farm in Southwest England, near Bristol. My belly is full of homemade chickpea curry--the same curry I couldn't face earlier this year due to overdose has brought me immense satisfaction. Yes, it was made differently than mine, reflecting the cook, but it is the fact that it is shared with good friends and conversation makes it all the more satisfying (and washing it down with a very nice local cider certainly helps!).
Certainly, our meal together this evening wasn't the only of the day: thick cocoa for breakfast, a vegetarian café for lunch (courgette and leek soup with a simply dressed green salad was perfect for the cool, sunny day, and was eaten outside), and the raw almonds.
The lovely taste shall remain for quite some time to come.
No comments:
Post a Comment