I’ve escaped to the countryside for the Easter holiday – in the UK, that’s a full four days from Good Friday right through to Easter Monday, with no emails pinging in by the second. Glorious. Last year was the first one I’d spent in the UK for four years and now I’m back in the Easter rhythm I am intending to thoroughly enjoy myself. (It’s always been odd being in America where there is no holiday at all knowing that everyone back at home is kicking back. In 2009, I was at the beach in Santa Monica, in 2008 I was at St Thomas’ on 5th Avenue in Manhattan, in 2007 Dixon & I were checking out NY galleries.)
The weather is perfect: bright blue skies, no wisps of cloud, temperatures around 20-25C (that’s the mid-high seventies). Yesterday afternoon, the moment I came off the motorway, I lowered the roof on my car and P-Bad and I sped home through the pollen heavy air on the narrow roads, through yellow fields of rape, edged with bright green hedges puffed with pale pink crab apple blossom and early May.
Supper was simple. a pound or two of steamed early English asparagus, melted butter and Maldon salt, a salad and cheese. We used my grandmother’s table cloth, which reminds both Muv & I of our respective childhoods.
Billy was unimpressed with the lack of MEAT. Although I did feed him cheese rinds under the table. Out of sight: P-Bad trying to climb up my chair.