The sun is shining outside, no doubt the chooks are respectfully enquiring after their breakfast.
The superannuated Italian sheepdog is snoozing in the hall and the neurotic kelpie is snoozing at the Practical Reinventor's feet.
Breakfast has been had and the Creative Reinventor has been at the coffee roastery for more than an hour dispensing caffeine, which is the nearest thing to happiness made tangible.
Rage has finished off with ABBA.
The reinventors are going to dinner tonight with dear friends, which requires the making of a birthday present and card. What does one make (or even buy if inspiration does not strike) the gentleman who has everything? Wine, while appreciated, does rather lack imagination.
And there is housework to be done.
Friday 10 July 2015
Friday 3 July 2015
Re-evaluations and starting again.
So things just went stupid for a bit there.
The Creative Reinventor is managing local council stuff, too many people asking for extra-hot coffee (don't. Just don't) and increasing wholesale orders for his magnificently roasted coffee.
The Practical Reinventor, who had been doing the catering in a leased commercial kitchen suddenly found the Person-To-Whom-She-Was-Paying-Rent showing her true colours and they weren't pretty.
Then the reinventors did the sums and reluctantly, the Practical Reinventor went back to work. Luckily there were two pleasant contracts in the offing, with a week off in between.
And now...
Who knows?
The catering business is officially dead - there's no money in food. Unless you're a celebrity chef with a cookbook contract.
Meanwhile, the garlic is thriving, the broad beans have just started blooming, and the poor citrus trees have ripe fruit, blossom and juvenile fruit. Which would be the effect of climate change. Exhausting.
In among the hard decisions, we decided that since the feijoa tree had had four years to produce, and hadn't, it had failed its probation. It's been replaced with a lime, and there's a cumquat squeezed into one of the chook exclusion zones.
The Creative Reinventor is managing local council stuff, too many people asking for extra-hot coffee (don't. Just don't) and increasing wholesale orders for his magnificently roasted coffee.
The Practical Reinventor, who had been doing the catering in a leased commercial kitchen suddenly found the Person-To-Whom-She-Was-Paying-Rent showing her true colours and they weren't pretty.
Then the reinventors did the sums and reluctantly, the Practical Reinventor went back to work. Luckily there were two pleasant contracts in the offing, with a week off in between.
And now...
Who knows?
The catering business is officially dead - there's no money in food. Unless you're a celebrity chef with a cookbook contract.
Meanwhile, the garlic is thriving, the broad beans have just started blooming, and the poor citrus trees have ripe fruit, blossom and juvenile fruit. Which would be the effect of climate change. Exhausting.
In among the hard decisions, we decided that since the feijoa tree had had four years to produce, and hadn't, it had failed its probation. It's been replaced with a lime, and there's a cumquat squeezed into one of the chook exclusion zones.
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