Doright cannot cook very well – he has some signature dishes (roast chicken with potatoes, omelette, lasagne) but in the main he appears to have subsisted on antipasti and take away before he had the good fortune to convince me to move in with him. So now I feel guilty about being tired all the time as it means Doright hasn’t been getting any proper meals at home. I feel like I am being a bad wife (already!) so I need to find a way to deal with this. My hairdresser (and my mother actually, though she was talking about it ages ago as a lifestyle thing rather than something related to my being pregnant) suggested cooking things in large batches on Sundays. She is right off course but lately I have been just too tired to do this kind of thing. Meanwhile cooking has been difficult anyway because some smells make me want to retch. Fish and meat are the main culprits, but it just depends on the day. I am taking vitamin and omega oil supplements to try to compensate for my moody appetite but that isn’t beneficial for poor Doright.
I haven’t done too badly this week – two cooked meals and one dinner out. We had grilled mackerel with potatoes and peppers on Monday and I roasted a guinea fowl with lemon and garlic on Wednesday (accompanied by some roast veg, pumpkin, onion, carrots). I normally intend to take leftovers for lunch the next day but lately my child has been thwarting my attempts at healthy frugality by refusing to allow the consumption of leftovers. Any thought of such a thing brings on nausea - as (sadly/fortunately) does the thought of a glass of champagne. In fact the last few days the nausea has come back with a vengeance and I have been on the verge of throwing up from morning till night. The daily commute, by overground train, from North London to Surrey, has become a nightmare in which I just stare out of the window miserably, praying I don’t have to rush off and throw up unceremoniously on the station platform. Taken to carrying a small plastic bag just in case ☺
Anyway back to the matter at hand - Doright is out tonight so don’t have to worry about him. LD and I are having a Lebanese chicken wrap from The Phoenician food hall on the High Street later – been thinking about it the whole day. And then I might tidy up this blog and do some driving theory…Oh joy!
I haven’t done too badly this week – two cooked meals and one dinner out. We had grilled mackerel with potatoes and peppers on Monday and I roasted a guinea fowl with lemon and garlic on Wednesday (accompanied by some roast veg, pumpkin, onion, carrots). I normally intend to take leftovers for lunch the next day but lately my child has been thwarting my attempts at healthy frugality by refusing to allow the consumption of leftovers. Any thought of such a thing brings on nausea - as (sadly/fortunately) does the thought of a glass of champagne. In fact the last few days the nausea has come back with a vengeance and I have been on the verge of throwing up from morning till night. The daily commute, by overground train, from North London to Surrey, has become a nightmare in which I just stare out of the window miserably, praying I don’t have to rush off and throw up unceremoniously on the station platform. Taken to carrying a small plastic bag just in case ☺
Anyway back to the matter at hand - Doright is out tonight so don’t have to worry about him. LD and I are having a Lebanese chicken wrap from The Phoenician food hall on the High Street later – been thinking about it the whole day. And then I might tidy up this blog and do some driving theory…Oh joy!
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