What? Why are you looking it me like that? Oh…the title… It was inevitable, ok. Just about everyone in the Northern Hemisphere who has read/ watched/ knows someone who has read/ watched Game of Thrones (also known as A Song of Ice and Fire, epic series by American fantasy writer George R R “Please-hurry-up-and-finish-the-next-book” Martin) will be using this phrase as the cold season approaches. Winter is coming.
Not a complaint. I wax lyrical about last year’s delightful Christmas. But there are some good pics of me with a chicken.
I cooked last night. I made spaghetti bolognaise – or tried to. You see, while I regard myself as not entirely unskilled in the kitchen (I cooked for myself regularly last year, and lived to talk about it) I am rather out of practice. The last time I made food (a proper meal, not cereal or toast) was probably more than a month ago – a rather fail meal consisting of chicken, mushrooms and rice. Half of it is still sitting in a Tupperware at the bottom of my freezer, waiting for the mythical day when I will be starving to death with no food in the house (not even that last packet of 2 minute noodles) and no money in my wallet (not even R8,50 for a chicken burger at McDonald’s down the road).