Having missed the Joon Dance Spring Gather workshops last year because of my damaged back (right QL), I wanted to join in this year's, despite my worries about walking/dancing on uneven surfaces. With lots going on in early April (visiting teacher workshops in Lampeter, relaunching my belly dance classes) I managed to mix up days and dates and ended up missing the first day's workshops. I only realised because I caught some comments on Facebook after day 1, and hurriedly made arrangements to participate in day 2.
On day 1, I missed a guest teacher who led sessions in Solva woods and on the beach. The weather wasn't too bad and everyone seemed to have had a good time, using the environment to inspire movements and phrases.
On day 2, it was overcast, cold and breezy with rain forecast. We gathered at Solva community hall, then walked to a nearby play area with swings and other bits of kit. It was refreshing not to see a sign stating that the equipment was for children's use only. Why shouldn't adults have some fun too? The assumption always seems to be that it will encourage rowdy youths to gather, threatening younger children and breaking the equipment. We were an inter-generational group, all ages, and not all that rowdy either. We had a fun couple of hours exploring the equipment and generating movement ideas, then showing each other, before the wind picked up and icy rain started to slap at our faces. By the time we got back to the hall, it was coming down hard.
Luckily Zosia had booked the hall and we could spend the afternoon creating short pieces inspired by the three environments. Even though I'd missed day 1, the others in my group brought me up to speed and I had great fun being a tree, being a rock on the seashore. (What was that strange hand gesture? It was a limpet or periwinkle travelling over the rock/my body to graze on the algae.) Repeating some of the playground moves without the equipment, remembering how it felt to be hanging and twisting around a chain was interesting in a somatic way; recalling the feel of the cold metal, the way my body moved. All good fun, even when we couldn't hear each other for the clatter of rain and hail on the roof!
Big Flock was a public event open to anyone on Newgale beach, Pembrokeshire on April 2018 organised by Holy Hiatus in collaboration with Joon Dance. People were invited to be part of a human murmuration and asked to wear mainly greys and blues. We were also warned to wrap up well, and considering the cold wind and hail the previous day, that seemed like a good idea. However, the day turned out bright and sunny and I ended up taking my fleece jacket off and wearing it tied around my waist!
The original music used for the film was composed by Andy Wheddon and you should be able to see Ruth Jones' film of the Big Flock 2018 on Vimeo here.
Saturday, 30 June 2018
Thursday, 28 June 2018
Hog Heaven
I've been aware for a while that someone other than my cats has been helping themselves to the cat food. I put it down to interloper cat, who is back after a long absence. Sometimes, it sounds like an animal eating as quickly as possible, and I've gone out to see a black and white rear disappearing down the garden. Once, while Greebo was sitting on the patio step with his back to the door and had completely missed that the interloper cat had gone in and back out again!
At other times, though, it sounds more delicate. And both cats have been with me, and apparently not inclined to go see off an interloper.
The other evening, I heard the delicate rattle and crunch of cat biscuits being eaten, so went through to the utility room to see who was responsible ....
I've known there was at least one hedgehog around here since I moved in. The cats found poop in the back garden, and I've seen some in the front (it's a long way round via the park if you're a hedgehog and can't just stroll through the house, also assuming the fencing allows a way through, so probably at least one hedgehog). I've occasionally heard some snuffling and rustling. Now this one seems to have become so used to trundling into the utility room and back out again that noises in the house don't cause a rapid exit, nor do the bemused cats watching as their food is being eaten (I wish I'd been quick enough to get a photo of them too, the expressions on their faces!). Not even me, standing and watching. Satisfied, s/he (no idea which sex it is) bimbled out again, round bottom bobbing along as s/he carried on down the garden path and under the lilac tree.
So - meet Bimblebum, (good name, I think) who is now popping in every evening to raid the cats' bowls and any spilled bird food. Yes, I know I've named a wild animal for the second time in as many months. It's just a distinction for this hog here, as opposed to any others (although if two were to turn up for food, I probably wouldn't be able to tell them apart). Yes, I know, soft as butter, letting them all eat me out of house and home.
My first concern was whether the cat biscuits were okay for hedgehogs. Bimblebum seemed to be enjoying them very much and rejected the dish of soft food when I offered it, turning back to the biscuits. Luckily, I have a friend who established the Pembrokeshire Hogspital (also on Facebook). She reassured me the biscuits would be good for the teeth and suggested it might be a female feeding babies. If that's the case, the most likely location for a nest would be under the pile of privet prunings by the back fence - handily close to compost bins and heaps with their larder of slugs and snails, and there's a little path of well-flattened grass leading underneath. Alternatively, the shed, which I seldom go into because it's such a struggle with the door half off its hinges, but that gives any nesting hedgehogs, or birds, access.
A couple of nights ago, there was much rustling and snuffling, as Bimblebum went the length of the garden, down the hedgeline and up through the rough grass, then slalomed back via the evening primroses before dashing over the bare ground to the lilac. There was a lot of eating going on, and a surprising turn of speed when bimbling is too slow. I've been concentrating on the front garden, so the back has escaped from me (again), but it seems like it's hog heaven here.
Hopefully s/he's not taken up residence in the house!
At other times, though, it sounds more delicate. And both cats have been with me, and apparently not inclined to go see off an interloper.
The other evening, I heard the delicate rattle and crunch of cat biscuits being eaten, so went through to the utility room to see who was responsible ....
I've known there was at least one hedgehog around here since I moved in. The cats found poop in the back garden, and I've seen some in the front (it's a long way round via the park if you're a hedgehog and can't just stroll through the house, also assuming the fencing allows a way through, so probably at least one hedgehog). I've occasionally heard some snuffling and rustling. Now this one seems to have become so used to trundling into the utility room and back out again that noises in the house don't cause a rapid exit, nor do the bemused cats watching as their food is being eaten (I wish I'd been quick enough to get a photo of them too, the expressions on their faces!). Not even me, standing and watching. Satisfied, s/he (no idea which sex it is) bimbled out again, round bottom bobbing along as s/he carried on down the garden path and under the lilac tree.
So - meet Bimblebum, (good name, I think) who is now popping in every evening to raid the cats' bowls and any spilled bird food. Yes, I know I've named a wild animal for the second time in as many months. It's just a distinction for this hog here, as opposed to any others (although if two were to turn up for food, I probably wouldn't be able to tell them apart). Yes, I know, soft as butter, letting them all eat me out of house and home.
My first concern was whether the cat biscuits were okay for hedgehogs. Bimblebum seemed to be enjoying them very much and rejected the dish of soft food when I offered it, turning back to the biscuits. Luckily, I have a friend who established the Pembrokeshire Hogspital (also on Facebook). She reassured me the biscuits would be good for the teeth and suggested it might be a female feeding babies. If that's the case, the most likely location for a nest would be under the pile of privet prunings by the back fence - handily close to compost bins and heaps with their larder of slugs and snails, and there's a little path of well-flattened grass leading underneath. Alternatively, the shed, which I seldom go into because it's such a struggle with the door half off its hinges, but that gives any nesting hedgehogs, or birds, access.
A couple of nights ago, there was much rustling and snuffling, as Bimblebum went the length of the garden, down the hedgeline and up through the rough grass, then slalomed back via the evening primroses before dashing over the bare ground to the lilac. There was a lot of eating going on, and a surprising turn of speed when bimbling is too slow. I've been concentrating on the front garden, so the back has escaped from me (again), but it seems like it's hog heaven here.
Hopefully s/he's not taken up residence in the house!
Sunday, 17 June 2018
Mr and Mrs Blackbird
I tried to make a dent in the overgrown privet hedge as soon as the weather stopped being vile, which this year was in April (and even then, not for long ...)
I only managed one session before the pair of blackbirds who nest in the hedge made their feelings clear. They were creating their nest, please could I stop and go away!
In early May, I was sure they were sitting, although I wasn't sure I heard chicks. Mr Blackbird has a particular call when he came back into the garden, a sort of 'Hi Honey, I'm home!' Then they seemed to spend time away from the nest and although I didn't see the young birds, it was as if each had one which they were feeding from the safety of the hedges. They also spent a lot of energy alarm-calling from the garden next door, and with my cats on their best behaviour, I knew it wasn't their fault.
Then it all went quiet. Mrs Blackbird came out of the hedge every so often, but there were several days where I didn't see or hear Mr Blackbird at all. Then last week I saw him with a beak stuffed full; he flew into the privet and swapped places with Mrs Blackbird. A little listening and observation confirmed they were feeding chicks.
Mrs Blackbird is the more confiding of the two. She's wary of the cats (quite right too!) but seems to realise that if I'm around, I'll warn them off.
Over the past couple of weeks, I've been concentrating on the front garden, digging up all the grass and weeds (the bindweed is horrendous!), removing stones, glass, bits of plastic and so on, leaving freshly turned earth. Mrs Blackbird has noticed and has started to hold up progress and give me an excuse to sit down to rest more frequently as she pops down to inspect the recently dug areas. She gathers a beak full of grubs and worms, poops to lighten the load and then flits back over the house into the back garden. She also seems to have remembered that I am the distributor of dried mealworms, and occasionally just looks meaningfully at me until I toss a handful her way. She has started to come within a metre of me if I'm sitting and still, while I talk to her quietly.
My blogging was interrupted earlier by Mrs Blackbird shouting/alarm calling. I strode out of the back door, demanding 'What's going on here?' whereupon Xena slunk guiltily from the patio area and Mrs Blackbird flew from the patio to the washing line, still shouting in alarm. Xena would not stay in, and my disapproval was enough to send her up to the end of the garden while I tossed a handful of mealworms down for Mrs B and looked at where she'd been. After a few minutes, a chick popped out of its hiding place behind the tool store and eyed me expectantly. Mrs B had evidently been using one of my first strawberries as baby food.
The cats are in, much to their disgust. A fresh round of alarm calls showed that the cats had gone to sit, all eyes, ears and whiskers, by the glass patio doors from the dining room, so I've had to shut that door as well. I'm hoping she has the sense to guide the chick to somewhere less obvious and accessible while she's left in peace to feed.
I only managed one session before the pair of blackbirds who nest in the hedge made their feelings clear. They were creating their nest, please could I stop and go away!
In early May, I was sure they were sitting, although I wasn't sure I heard chicks. Mr Blackbird has a particular call when he came back into the garden, a sort of 'Hi Honey, I'm home!' Then they seemed to spend time away from the nest and although I didn't see the young birds, it was as if each had one which they were feeding from the safety of the hedges. They also spent a lot of energy alarm-calling from the garden next door, and with my cats on their best behaviour, I knew it wasn't their fault.
Then it all went quiet. Mrs Blackbird came out of the hedge every so often, but there were several days where I didn't see or hear Mr Blackbird at all. Then last week I saw him with a beak stuffed full; he flew into the privet and swapped places with Mrs Blackbird. A little listening and observation confirmed they were feeding chicks.
Mrs Blackbird is the more confiding of the two. She's wary of the cats (quite right too!) but seems to realise that if I'm around, I'll warn them off.
Over the past couple of weeks, I've been concentrating on the front garden, digging up all the grass and weeds (the bindweed is horrendous!), removing stones, glass, bits of plastic and so on, leaving freshly turned earth. Mrs Blackbird has noticed and has started to hold up progress and give me an excuse to sit down to rest more frequently as she pops down to inspect the recently dug areas. She gathers a beak full of grubs and worms, poops to lighten the load and then flits back over the house into the back garden. She also seems to have remembered that I am the distributor of dried mealworms, and occasionally just looks meaningfully at me until I toss a handful her way. She has started to come within a metre of me if I'm sitting and still, while I talk to her quietly.
Mrs Blackbird: So, where are the mealworms then? |
The cats are in, much to their disgust. A fresh round of alarm calls showed that the cats had gone to sit, all eyes, ears and whiskers, by the glass patio doors from the dining room, so I've had to shut that door as well. I'm hoping she has the sense to guide the chick to somewhere less obvious and accessible while she's left in peace to feed.
Friday, 15 June 2018
Ridge and Furrow cowl
This seemed like a good pattern to use up some of my mighty acrylic DK stash and it had been languishing in my Ravelry queue for ages, so I started it in mid February.
Initially, I loved it. I chose navy as the main colour, and another 16 contrast colours: teal, moss, olive, moorland green, sapphire, violet, lavender, lilac, magenta, claret, royal purple, aubergine, royal blue, mid-blue, petrol and pine (a dark bluish green). With 5mm needles and a provisional crochet cast on, I was off and it progressed quite well. I decided to work forwards and backwards through the colours twice and loved the colourful garter stitch ridges standing out against the navy background.
The more I knitted, the more I fretted about getting the ends neatly and securely knitted/woven in. I'd dismissed the idea of somehow carrying the various yarns up one of the edges. I put it down for several weeks while I researched methods of tidily working in the ends and picked it up again just to get it finished. By three quarters of the way through I'd fallen out of love with it, and then became even more fed up when it came to tidying up all the loose ends. At least picking up stitches onto a 5mm circular needle in order to finish the edges was quick and I liked the colourful purl 'blips'.
It's very nice, but the hassle of knitting it has cured me of wanting it for myself. I've decided this one is for the sales basket on my craft sales table at a local midsummer fun day next weekend. This one-off is destined for someone else!
Initially, I loved it. I chose navy as the main colour, and another 16 contrast colours: teal, moss, olive, moorland green, sapphire, violet, lavender, lilac, magenta, claret, royal purple, aubergine, royal blue, mid-blue, petrol and pine (a dark bluish green). With 5mm needles and a provisional crochet cast on, I was off and it progressed quite well. I decided to work forwards and backwards through the colours twice and loved the colourful garter stitch ridges standing out against the navy background.
The more I knitted, the more I fretted about getting the ends neatly and securely knitted/woven in. I'd dismissed the idea of somehow carrying the various yarns up one of the edges. I put it down for several weeks while I researched methods of tidily working in the ends and picked it up again just to get it finished. By three quarters of the way through I'd fallen out of love with it, and then became even more fed up when it came to tidying up all the loose ends. At least picking up stitches onto a 5mm circular needle in order to finish the edges was quick and I liked the colourful purl 'blips'.
It's very nice, but the hassle of knitting it has cured me of wanting it for myself. I've decided this one is for the sales basket on my craft sales table at a local midsummer fun day next weekend. This one-off is destined for someone else!
Thursday, 7 June 2018
D18 Dance Festival
This time last year, I was working on the Desert Rose contemporary belly dance veil fusion collaborative choreography. I really wanted the group to take it to Arts Care Gofal Celf's annual community dance showcase, but we had only scratched the surface of the work and would have been nothing like ready to show it, so I didn't apply for a slot.
I would have happily resurrected it for this year's showcase, D18, but two of the four dancers are no longer available, and it's the sort of piece where the patterns and cascades of repeated movements only show up with more than a few dancers.
In preparing the relaunched classes, I was working with a couple of Natacha Atlas tracks, in case any dancers wanted to learn some choreography, potentially performing it at the Cardigan Belly Dance Festival, first weekend in August. I asked for a slot at D18 this year in the hope that the classes might take off, and had arranged additional rehearsal time for anyone wanting to perform something quick and simple. And if no one wanted to perform, then I could do a solo and hopefully attract some attention to my classes.
The dance showcase is over a weekend at the Torch Theatre in Milford Haven, with morning workshops and afternoon shows. I skipped the Saturday (so much to do!) and I didn't go to the workshops (knees feeling fragile and complaining a bit after bouts of digging the garden), although I looked in on one where an agile man was apparently mimicking an insect travelling low across the floor. There is no way I could have attempted that! During lunch in the cafe I saw a tech whom I knew from summer school, and found that we were on the main stage! I've only danced in the studio theatre before now. That being the case, I thought I had better go up to the auditorium to wait for a slot where I could orient myself on the stage.
The show was a fairly casual affair, with music handed in a little before hand, no tech run and some flexibility in the running order, handled really very well by the compere and technical team - only one or two small glitches. There were college groups and groups for dancers with learning disabilities, young children, professionals - a real mix, but largely contemporary and street dance, some of it really beautiful and technically skilled, some just sheer fun. I loved it!
I'd decided on a semi-improvised piece with veil to Soleil d'Egypte, reasoning that my usual baladi improvisation might be a little inaccessible for some of the audience. (As it turned out, there were a couple of people in the audience who had done belly dance and would have got it!)
I'm increasingly finding it difficult to warm up sufficiently to dance my best at haflas and the like and this was no exception. I went into a back corridor and ran through a good five-minute warm up, before putting my belt on and slipping into the wings during the piece before mine.
Then it was time. I felt quite small on the big stage. I'd given my camera to a member of the audience who agreed to record my piece, but I forgot to explain the zoom, so looked quite small on the film too. The bright 'sunlight' lighting bleached out features, and the camera struggled with the contrast, but the pic below was one of the better moments, although most of it has been cropped out.
And then it was over! People seemed to enjoy it and I had random compliments afterwards, as well as a couple of enquiries for class details. One woman came to chat and explained that she was just visiting, had done some belly dance but had given it up and since we were more or less the same size (actually, she's nothing like as rotund as I am!) she had some costume to send me. I gave her a business card with my address, and a few days later, a gorgeous green and gold Egyptian-style overskirt/belt arrived. I'm so very touched by her generosity.
As for the piece, I was originally thinking of a class choreography without veils, but after dancing with one, have changed my mind. Now I need people in class ...! Or am I going to be repeating this solo at the Cardigan Belly Dance Festival in August?
I would have happily resurrected it for this year's showcase, D18, but two of the four dancers are no longer available, and it's the sort of piece where the patterns and cascades of repeated movements only show up with more than a few dancers.
In preparing the relaunched classes, I was working with a couple of Natacha Atlas tracks, in case any dancers wanted to learn some choreography, potentially performing it at the Cardigan Belly Dance Festival, first weekend in August. I asked for a slot at D18 this year in the hope that the classes might take off, and had arranged additional rehearsal time for anyone wanting to perform something quick and simple. And if no one wanted to perform, then I could do a solo and hopefully attract some attention to my classes.
The dance showcase is over a weekend at the Torch Theatre in Milford Haven, with morning workshops and afternoon shows. I skipped the Saturday (so much to do!) and I didn't go to the workshops (knees feeling fragile and complaining a bit after bouts of digging the garden), although I looked in on one where an agile man was apparently mimicking an insect travelling low across the floor. There is no way I could have attempted that! During lunch in the cafe I saw a tech whom I knew from summer school, and found that we were on the main stage! I've only danced in the studio theatre before now. That being the case, I thought I had better go up to the auditorium to wait for a slot where I could orient myself on the stage.
The show was a fairly casual affair, with music handed in a little before hand, no tech run and some flexibility in the running order, handled really very well by the compere and technical team - only one or two small glitches. There were college groups and groups for dancers with learning disabilities, young children, professionals - a real mix, but largely contemporary and street dance, some of it really beautiful and technically skilled, some just sheer fun. I loved it!
I'd decided on a semi-improvised piece with veil to Soleil d'Egypte, reasoning that my usual baladi improvisation might be a little inaccessible for some of the audience. (As it turned out, there were a couple of people in the audience who had done belly dance and would have got it!)
I'm increasingly finding it difficult to warm up sufficiently to dance my best at haflas and the like and this was no exception. I went into a back corridor and ran through a good five-minute warm up, before putting my belt on and slipping into the wings during the piece before mine.
Then it was time. I felt quite small on the big stage. I'd given my camera to a member of the audience who agreed to record my piece, but I forgot to explain the zoom, so looked quite small on the film too. The bright 'sunlight' lighting bleached out features, and the camera struggled with the contrast, but the pic below was one of the better moments, although most of it has been cropped out.
When you forget to explain the zoom function to the person kindly recording your piece with your camera ... |
And then it was over! People seemed to enjoy it and I had random compliments afterwards, as well as a couple of enquiries for class details. One woman came to chat and explained that she was just visiting, had done some belly dance but had given it up and since we were more or less the same size (actually, she's nothing like as rotund as I am!) she had some costume to send me. I gave her a business card with my address, and a few days later, a gorgeous green and gold Egyptian-style overskirt/belt arrived. I'm so very touched by her generosity.
As for the piece, I was originally thinking of a class choreography without veils, but after dancing with one, have changed my mind. Now I need people in class ...! Or am I going to be repeating this solo at the Cardigan Belly Dance Festival in August?
Tuesday, 5 June 2018
The word of the month begins with D ....
I've suddenly become totally dissatisfied and utterly fed up with my baggy body and frankly ridiculous belly. There. I've said written it. I'm not sure what happened; I still believe in body-positivity, but just feel that for me, enough is enough. Time for things to change, starting with my diet (again).
The last time I made major changes was in 2012-3, when I was awaiting an operation on my foot and the osteoarthritis in my knees was in full flare. I stopped eating meat, swapped a whole load of foods for lower fat, lower sugar versions, really concentrated on salads and seasonal, healthy eating. I did lose a little weight, despite times of frustration when I couldn't seem to shift the scales or get much done outside.
I kept a spreadsheet of the weight loss, and it shows I lost 8.3 kg in 2013. Mind you, half of that was in the last week, when I was ill. My habit of being ill before Christmas means that I start each recorded year at Yule a couple of kilos lighter than I might otherwise be, and then start the new calendar year having put a couple of kilos back on! Thus it was in January 2014, then, despite best intentions, things went sort of pear-shaped, before becoming positively more rotund with the stress of moving house in 2015. At the time I moved house, I was at my heaviest ever - all those take-outs and comfort-eating of chocolate!
I'm now 8 kilos lighter than I was 3 years ago, and 4 kilos lighter than at the start of this year. It's better than nothing, but too little, too slow! My weight bobs around like a cork. I lose 0.6, then 0.7, gain 0.9, lose 0.1. gain 0.4, lose 0.2, gain 0.6, lose 0.3 (bringing me back to where I started). Aaargh, pass me the chocolate ice-cream! Seriously though, it just means that my healthy eating is fine for maintaining my current weight, not losing it!
With a couple of friends now a shadow of their former selves and another couple singing the praises of the Keto Diet, I decided that some positive action was necessary. I remembered a conversation I had with someone years ago, about my craving for (addiction to?) carbohydrates. She suggested that my craving stemmed from an inability to process gluten properly. At the time, I didn't pay too much attention because I love bread and it doesn't cause me bloating, stomach pains, tiredness or any of the other symptoms usually quoted for gluten intolerance. Since then, I've discovered that it may be more to do with an inability to process carbohydrates effectively, so reducing my carbohydrate intake would certainly do no harm.
Rather out of character for me, I signed up for the 'Low Carb Program', endorsed by Diabetes.co.uk, mostly for the recipes and inspiration. I'm going to ease myself into this rather than charging headlong into their meal plans, as the vegetarian 40 day challenge involves eating an average of 3 eggs per day just in the first week, and shopping for over 70 items. I haven't costed it out precisely, but I'm pretty sure it would blow my budget to smithereens, not to mention the impact on the fuel bills (and time!) for all the extra cooking involved. Some things look tempting, so I'll begin to experiment and be a lot more mindful of the carbohydrate content and portion sizes.
It's good that the warmer weather is here and I can indulge in salads.
The last time I made major changes was in 2012-3, when I was awaiting an operation on my foot and the osteoarthritis in my knees was in full flare. I stopped eating meat, swapped a whole load of foods for lower fat, lower sugar versions, really concentrated on salads and seasonal, healthy eating. I did lose a little weight, despite times of frustration when I couldn't seem to shift the scales or get much done outside.
I kept a spreadsheet of the weight loss, and it shows I lost 8.3 kg in 2013. Mind you, half of that was in the last week, when I was ill. My habit of being ill before Christmas means that I start each recorded year at Yule a couple of kilos lighter than I might otherwise be, and then start the new calendar year having put a couple of kilos back on! Thus it was in January 2014, then, despite best intentions, things went sort of pear-shaped, before becoming positively more rotund with the stress of moving house in 2015. At the time I moved house, I was at my heaviest ever - all those take-outs and comfort-eating of chocolate!
I'm now 8 kilos lighter than I was 3 years ago, and 4 kilos lighter than at the start of this year. It's better than nothing, but too little, too slow! My weight bobs around like a cork. I lose 0.6, then 0.7, gain 0.9, lose 0.1. gain 0.4, lose 0.2, gain 0.6, lose 0.3 (bringing me back to where I started). Aaargh, pass me the chocolate ice-cream! Seriously though, it just means that my healthy eating is fine for maintaining my current weight, not losing it!
With a couple of friends now a shadow of their former selves and another couple singing the praises of the Keto Diet, I decided that some positive action was necessary. I remembered a conversation I had with someone years ago, about my craving for (addiction to?) carbohydrates. She suggested that my craving stemmed from an inability to process gluten properly. At the time, I didn't pay too much attention because I love bread and it doesn't cause me bloating, stomach pains, tiredness or any of the other symptoms usually quoted for gluten intolerance. Since then, I've discovered that it may be more to do with an inability to process carbohydrates effectively, so reducing my carbohydrate intake would certainly do no harm.
Rather out of character for me, I signed up for the 'Low Carb Program', endorsed by Diabetes.co.uk, mostly for the recipes and inspiration. I'm going to ease myself into this rather than charging headlong into their meal plans, as the vegetarian 40 day challenge involves eating an average of 3 eggs per day just in the first week, and shopping for over 70 items. I haven't costed it out precisely, but I'm pretty sure it would blow my budget to smithereens, not to mention the impact on the fuel bills (and time!) for all the extra cooking involved. Some things look tempting, so I'll begin to experiment and be a lot more mindful of the carbohydrate content and portion sizes.
It's good that the warmer weather is here and I can indulge in salads.
Monday, 4 June 2018
Salad Days: Watermelon and Feta Salad
During a trip to St David's while my parents were here, we had lunch at a hotel and I had a Watermelon and Feta salad. It was rather too heavy on raw red onion and rocket for my taste, and over-priced, but I was surprised how well the watermelon went with feta cheese. So here's my version:
Onto my usual base of lettuce (iceberg in this case), cucumber and tomato I've tossed some cubes of feta and watermelon (about a sixth of the melon, but I'll leave quantities up to you.)
It's that simple, and luscious.
Onto my usual base of lettuce (iceberg in this case), cucumber and tomato I've tossed some cubes of feta and watermelon (about a sixth of the melon, but I'll leave quantities up to you.)
It's that simple, and luscious.
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