Today, due to an itinerary containing domestic chores of higher priority, GJ Strachan’s daily journal commenced later than usual. As a consequence of beef casserole preparation, along with ironing a pile of recently laundered clothes, my arrival at the laptop keyboard was delayed until the sun’d already passed over the yardarm.
Incidentally, use of ‘the sun’d already passed over the yardarm’ was to indicate the time had gone midday. Looking outside at wall to wall (well, sky to horizon) grey clouds and driving rain, it’s fair to say there’s absolutely no way during Wednesday 20th January 2021 I’ll bear witness to any solar rays.
Additionally, unless I find myself in a scenario of being ‘press-ganged’ to become member of a sail ships crew, or watch a re-run of the movie ‘Carry On Jack’ on TV, I’d venture the likelihood of spotting a yardarm today is equally as unlikely.
Anyhow, after this mornings efforts my laundry’s all pressed and currently awaits its transition from clothes horse to drawers/wardrobe. The clobber’s new found cleanliness evidenced by its newly acquired creases, along with the fresh redolence of spring flowers.
The casserole, currently stewing in the slow cooker, ready for consumption this evening, bears a completely different but equally appealing fragrance. The beef cooking in a sauce of onions, garlic, red wine, beef stock, carrots, mushrooms, bay leaves and seasoning, emitting a bouquet fit to lure any carnivore worth his salt (and pepper) to the table.
This alluring culinary perfume acting akin to the Sirens in Greek mythology who lured sailors to their death by beckoning their boat onto the rocks. The whiff’s presence creating a scenario where repudiating aroused senses becomes a hopeless plight.
Luckily, acquiescence to the tempting cuisine doesn’t bear the life jeopardy Sirens brought to ship dwellers. Well, unless somebody breaks into my house, administering poison to my still cooking stew. However, like today’s slim chances of clapping eyes on sunshine or a yardarm, hopefully having my tea tampered with in the suggested manner is also highly improbable.
Three hours since commencing the cooking process, yours truly recently stepped away from the laptop, venturing into the kitchen to stir the stew. On crossing the threshold into the aforementioned chamber, the enticement from the aura encountered felt almost celestial. Metaphorically, exposure to this redolence becoming a catalyst to my neck hairs rising as one to perform a rousing version of the Hallelujah Chorus.
The above experience displaying that even during a meals cooking process, the recipient can be imparted with almost as much sensory verve as when consuming the culinary offering. That being highlighted, it’s gotta be said that during the slow cooking of a flavoursome meal, one requires disciplined adherence to the adage ‘Patience is a virtue’.
GJ Strachan will have to conclude this literary tour de farce presently. My itinerary stating there’s a couple more chores to fulfil before nightfall, including vacuuming and dusting my modest abode’s chambers.
In addition, there’s a requirement of storing the freshly ironed clothing into their IKEA built fixed abodes…… Actually, if truth be told, I was the one who constructed the flat-pack furniture; the Swedish furniture suppliers provided the raw materials.
Have a good one!
