Sunday, 1 March 2015

Dad saves dinner

Today started with a drive over to a nearby village to collect TP, who had been out on the town with his mates. The minor flaw with my plan was that I had only ever dropped TP off in the general vicinity of his friend's house. I didn't know exactly which door to knock. Matters were made worse when the little sod wasn't answering his mobile phone,* leaving me sat by the curb with increasing levels of frustration.

I tried to Google the correct address but could not get internet connectivity, so I 'phoned 30% and asked her to search the web on my behalf … it appeared that TP's friends do not have a Directory Listing!  Eventually it dawned on me that TP's friend drove a Seat, possibly a red Seat, so I started to crawl around the estate in search of the vehicle. Eventually I came across a potential candidate and, as I drew up on the drive, I saw a dishevelled TP peer out from a window.

Five minutes later I was heading homeward with TP and another of his drinking buddies who lives close by to The Pile. I took a minor detour via the local feed store to collect chicken food and eventually we arrived back at home.

There was about an hour to go before lunch was served so TP and I headed out around the Three Miler with the dogs.

The afternoon was filled with a variety of jobs including the unloading of the car and a trip to Screwfix. Eventually I settled in front of the TV for an hour as I was knackered. As the afternoon waned I finally got myself in front of the Enfield with an iPad and a screw driver and worked out how to connect the throttle and choke cables to the new Amal carburettor.

Just as I was finishing I heard a plaintive call from the Kitchen. 30% had mistaken a boned breast of lamb for a leg, when routing through the freezer, and her dinner plans were in tatters. She had planned a roast and thawed out some casserole ingredients. I asked for 5 more minutes with the Enfield and asked her to make up a small portion of stuffing and find the kitchen string while she waited for me to finish off.

I then wandered in to the kitchen, spread the stuffing thinly over the inside of the lamb breast, rolled it and tied it up with three lengths of string. This evening we were to be dining on roast, stuffed, breast of lamb. About ninety minutes later I wandered out to carve and my creation looked pretty good. Ten minutes further down the line we were all sat at the table declaring this impromptu menu revision a complete success.

As it says in the title Dad saves dinner.
* no mobile 'phone reception

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