It’s the winter solstice and to celebrate the shortest day of the year, we’ve cracked a red. We’ve also brought out some goat’s cheese as well as a vintage cheddar. The slow roasted lamb is indeed slowly roasting and all seems well.
The only thing is that it’s freezing, literally! One of the features of our little circa 1900 cottage is the early twentieth century insulation: read none. I don’t know whether as people we’ve become more soft as we’ve supposedly progressed. Nan, born in 1914, never complains about the cold. She simply puts another layer of clothing on. I’ve even seen her wearing a beanie inside whilst knitting. There’s nothing like road testing your own produce. If I tell her I’m cold, she’ll tell me to wear wool.
Speaking of wool, we did our good deed for the day by calling our neighbor to alert them of a little lost sheep that we discovered while power walking up the back lane just now. The neighbor was most appreciative and will be heading out to fetch the lamb.
I thought the walk would warm me up, but it seems my best bet will be to get ensconced by the fire with my glass of red topped off with a Nan beanie while the roast roasts. The shortest day of the year has turned out to be a pretty good one!
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