Pot Luck

For the first time I can remember since our expat days, we have been asked to a Potluck supper.  It is going to be a selection of curries, and I am providing veggie curries.   I plan to make two, maybe three, and devote today to making them.   I used to do this a lot in Saudi, and we entertained a lot.  In fact, what I really missed at first after we left, apart from friends, was my big American kitchen.

But we live quietly these days, as far as entertaining goes.   So I feel very out of practise.  I am hoping that if I cook 3 curries, 2 of them will be OK.

Jean has returned from her holiday in Wales, looking refreshed.   She was at the meeting last night.  I had had a lovely morning on the work with another of my sisters.  We visited the gentleman who gave us some cooking apples and took a magazine.   Sadly he is not interested in hearing any more, but we were able to thank him for the apples - Captain B had them baked, with custard - and we parted on good terms.

Then I started a second doorstep Bible study...   in one week... never had one before... never had a Bible student in the UK before...   will they flourish?  I must pray about this.

All this talk of apples has reminded me of a Yeats poem, a sort of longing for our lost Eden poem, which ends this way:

Though I am old with wandering

Through hollow lands and hilly lands,

I will find out where she has gone,

And kiss her lips and take her hands;

And walk among long dappled grass,

And pluck till time and times are done,

The silver apples of the moon,

The golden apples of the sun.

(from The Song of Wandering Aengus, by William Butler Yeats)