If I wasn't a gunner I wouldn't be here: fire three!

It is my emigrativersary: three years ago I left the UK to come and live with Karen.

The boys were ahead of me, the books followed on; I am the middle of the sandwich that defines me.

And in other news, George III was particularly fond of the infant Mozart, and used to sit beside him at the pianoforte and turn the pages of his score. I am actually rather surprised that the infant Mozart ever used a score, but hey. Even genius sometimes likes its notes put down on paper.

Sufficient unto lunch is the self thereof

Lunch is an hour ahead and a couple of miles away, for I am at the library (where you can tell I'm starting to feel comfortable, because I took out my keys as I approached the door - as I used to do every bloody day at the Lit & Phil: home from home, I tell you...) - but my current plan is that lunch will be a ham roll. That is, my own ham, my own roll, and my own fresh-ground fresh-mixed mustard. I didn't actually grow any of it, not the pig nor the wheat nor anything (tho' there is talk of harvesting wild mustardseed in the near future; it grows like a weed hereabouts), but still. Made it all.

And in other news, I'm only logging this here so I can find it again, but look: sous vide, with a smartphone controller. I really kinda want one of these.

Dinner prep

I have boiled, cooled and dried rice. I have peeled shrimp. I have destringed (unstrung?) sugar snap peas. I have chopped ham and mushrooms and celery and asparagus and fennel and chillies. I have crushed garlic with a little sel de gris. Nothing now remains, but to sizzle and spice everything up, and then to eat it. I think we'll call it shrimp and asparagus with confit of fennel, and ham & mushroom rice with peas. I 'spect there will be soy and sesame oil in the rice, and maybe little more than fennel seed in with the shrimp. It's all up for grabs, though, till the oil hits the wok. Anything might happen. Which side should the ginger go...?