Saturday was a hot & spicy day. This did not relate to the weather nor sadly to myself but to the contents of my slow cooker. The pork casserole would normally have been tasty and redolent with mostly paprika but for the foreseeable future the paprika will have to be rationed. Now before you rush off to the local emporium I should hastily add that there is no worldwide or even local shortage of paprika. It is a measure that has become necessary in Chez Kojak following a tidy up of my spices. Each year, during my sojourns in Greece I renew my acquaintance with my friend Stavros the Herb. Stavros has earned the sobriquet of "the Herb" because naturally enough he has a herb stall. Every year, before my departure to Grecian climes I resolve to make a check of the herbal contents of Kojak's kitchen and every year that resolution founders in the hurly-burly of packing. I have to rely on what's left of my memory in order to recall being a bit short of this or that when I make my purchases from Stavros. As I never cease to remind you, I am a gentleman of a certain age and I am resigned to the odd lapse in the memory department. It follows that there are a few "just in case" purchases. I am a great fan of "just in cases", I have a whole room devoted to "just in case" items. As a result, the herb cupboard tends to get a trifle cluttered with surplus packets. During a recent declutter I inadvertantly mixed an unknown quantity of hot chilli powder into the paprika jar. This was discovered when a goulash surprisingly took on the attributes of a mean and frankly volcanic vindaloo curry. Being of a frugal nature I am reluctant to ditch the substantial contents of the paprika jar so a judicious and sparing use of the spice is now necessary.
Saturday was one of those bright sunny but extremely cold days. My friend Liz was up from the relative warmth of Bristol and together with another ex-work colleague we perused a garden centre in the afternoon. It was dark by the time we returned and we had become sufficiently chilled to require something to thaw the bones so the hot & spicy casserole came into it's own. Inroads were also made into the largely intact Apple & Blueberry crumble prepared earlier in the week. I was glad of the company as I had made a more than substantial amount of both dishes and tasty as they were, I did not relish the thought of eating them for the rest of the week. Having purchased a large amount of beef while we were out there was no longer any room in Kojak's freezer. My friend left on Sunday lunchtime and was quickly replaced by another visitor. An old friend who I had not met for several years called en route to his home in Lincolnshire. What with all the coming and going and getting up to date it was late in the evening before I felt up to preparing for the Oberbinfuhrerherren's visitation at some ungodly hour of the following morning.
Monday morning dawned. At least it would have dawned if the Oberbinfuhrer's diktat had been for a civilised time instead of halfway through the night. I wonder if he realises that not everyone suffers from permanent Sunday night insomnia. This Monday was Green Monday and three collections were ordained, in any order at any time, requiring a constant state of red alert from 7.30am onwards. Going to work did not generate so much stress. The last collection involved the green box and I was fascinated by the novel and ingenious innovation adopted by one of the binherren. Instead of collecting a box from each dwelling place in my little court he appeared with a topless wheelie bin. This was not as salacious as it sounds, dear reader, the lid had merely been removed... Moving from house to house he emptied the contents of each box into his topless model. It was at this moment that the fortnightly chickens of Fylde Borough Council's collection policy came home to roost in the most literal and ironic way. The bin was too small! I revelled in the sight of the Oberbinfuhrerman perched on top of the bin, bouncing up and down using his backside to squash down the contents to make room for more. Now the items we are graciously permitted to put in the green box include glass. We are not allowed by the Oberbinfuhrer to include broken glass. This is no doubt due to some Brussels Gauleiter imposing a Health & Safety decree but the aforementioned decree is rendered somewhat worthless as the decanting of the contents of the boxes is usually accompanied by the tinkle of breaking glass. Given all that, the actions of the Oberbinfuhrerman were a tad risky to say the least. I expected at any moment that he'd give an anguished squawk and fly off his perch.
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