I don’t feel like I did much this past week. The weather was nice, and I took a few long walks in the sun. I didn’t even need a coat on Friday.
One of L—’s friends turned 40, so we went to a birthday party in the outer reaches of Walthamstow on Saturday afternoon. Afternoon, I guess, because almost everyone else attending had one or more small children. Rather than spend over an hour each way sitting in a tube carriage underground on a lovely sunny day, we took our folding bikes a few stops on the Jubilee line to Stratford and cycled the rest of the way through the park, the Hackney marshes, and along the Lea/Lee valley (I was confused; it turns out that both spellings are in use).
We had some spare haggis (vegetarian, actually vegan, it’s very good and most people are eating haggis for the spices and texture rather than out of a love of sheep’s lungs anyway) left over on Sunday, so for lunch I made a couple of flat breads and we wrapped up haggis, mashed potato, and a bit of mustard into burritos. It was a successful invention which, for obvious reasons, I’m calling a wee donkey.