Sometimes, when I have neither time nor patience to sew and the Sallies have good dinner plates but nothing I want to wear, Postie Plus is a good place to go. Every spring I feel the urge to buy something new, really new. Today I bought this:
It's called a scapino chiffon overlay dress. If anyone knows what scapino means, then I'd love to learn. There are worse ways to spend $49.90
I also made fish chowder with my home made fish stock. I cooked the first part in the slow cooker throughout the day and then put the mix into a saucepan to boil with the fish pieces and kale when I got home from work. The fish stock is wobbly when straight from the fridge, indicating reasonable amounts of gelatine and probably other brothy goodness. It tasted quite good. Next time I shall attempt a Chinese style fish soup with ginger and garlic and noodles instead of today's sort of British mish mash of turmeric, carrots, onions and potatoes. And kale and fish pieces too of course. Kale for every meal. It has started to go to seed. I must check if we can eat the yellow flowers. I also added bonito to the chowder
I have lined up another person to interview for the care workers' exhibition. We are focusing the exhibition on Grey District care workers, with a commentary linking their situation to national trends.
I also even watched some telly last night when I babysat for a friend. A sky knowledge programme about a rather glamorous older woman tracing her family tree. Apart from the ridiculous especially-for tv-repetitions and gasping, it was quite good. They focused on the wealthy great great great grandparents though, when I was most fascinated by the son of the rich merchants who died in an alms house in Greenwich, who they barely touched on.
The situation regarding this sports madness in New Zealand is, in my view, quite insane. Prosecuting people for advertising anything to do with the rugby world cup and at the same time running ads trying to sell the tickets no one wants and wanting us all to support it just doesn't come together satisfactorily in my book.
Tomorrow is Thursday, known here as a mummy day as I never ever ever go to work on a Thursday and also, hopefully, going to be a garden day.