Ever since Z has bought a cookbook and aswanky new set of proper dishes and knives, like, I've been discovering how much he likes cooking. This discovery has delighted me to no end, and I've retaliated by discovering that washing dishes is ok really.

Z truly is a much better cook than me [being more experimental and enthusiastic and patient] and to date he has made:

*A lovely lovely barbecue
*A creamy, gently spicey soup with salmon and spring onions
*A massive stir fry featuring prawn
*A creamy vegetable soup
*A creamy mushroom soup
and yesterday per my request:
*Chicken kebabs with an avocado and greenleaf salad and red pesto couscous [which were fantastic and we had them for breakfast the next day too].

This has been an extremely pleasant discovery for me, who does not particularly like cooking. [I don't mind cooking from time to time, but day to day I can't be arsed with anything that takes longer than twenty minutes]. On the other hand he will happily chop and sautee and season for hours, spurning offers of help. [Secretly I think it's because he gets terribly excited about playing with all his lovely new dishes and doesn't want to share his toys]. But- since this allows me to watch uninterrupted stretches of Big Brother for an hour and more, I do not complain.









My other discovery is that riding motorbikes no longer scares me, but has now become almost Zen. I think it's because I really trust Z [who has lots of common sense, and is careful] and then it's wonderful and relaxing [well aside from the fact that my knee acquires strain and I walk like John Wayne for about ten minutes after I've got off the bike, while feeling and strength returns to my cramped legs]. Something so powerful and almost soothing about it, hopping on to a bike with trust in my heart and surrendering primary responsibility for my life for the duration of the ride. Having such confidence in him and what he is doing that I can simply relax and sit back and enjoy the ride.

[And one non-work day when the weather is good and when I'm better, and my endurance is up then hopefully we can go to Brighton]

My hip has been paining me, yesterday the combined frustration of the last month finally got to me and I spent portions of Sunday morning crying and in a *what's the point of it all* sort of stupor. I'm just tired of the pain and the limits my body is imposing on me, and I think I'm going to keep having these moments of down, but midway through the day I perked up and Z and I creatively combined Taurus and Virgo Ascendants, in which he produced us a delicious meal [slowly] and I in return cleaned all the muck that had accumulated at the bottom of his fridge and got high and light-headed on Oxy Gel fumes and then afterwards spent some time having a lie-down swatting at little flying things that flickered through the visual field of me and me alone.