Happy St. Patrick's Day!

No book to write about today. I'm in the midst of two: one of my favourites of the Sue Grafton alphabet detective stories (a re-read of course): S is for Silence. The other, Mrs Lincoln by Janis Cooke Newman. It is gripping, but of course it is fiction. However, Mary Todd Lincoln's Wikipedia entry suggests the novel is close to her life story and from that entry I gather she may have suffered from bipolar illness.

I went for a walk yesterday, something I've not done much of in weeks due to icy weather and then just lack of habit. I remembered to take my camera and take photos of the daffodils I passed - I've been watching them for a while now. I never cease to be uplifted by the long swathes of daffs the council have planted around the area. (Did you know that by definition a 'swath or swathe' is the width of a scythe stroke? - I didn't until just now).

I learned last week that a cousin had died from complications of Covid. He wasn't a close family member, but rather a genealogical discovery from some years back. I met him when we were invited to a wonderful cabin on Torch Lake, Michigan. Bryan was a few months younger than I. I particularly feel for his father, John, who is nearly 96. No one wants to outlive a child. 

Bill is out for a walk. I will venture into the pharmacy later today to pick up a prescription. We had tofu for dinner last night for the first time ever. It was a recipe from my Aunt Rita's Weight Watchers cookbook. 

It used a combination of hoisin sauce, chicken stock powder and garlic to flavour the tofu and broccoli. It was OK but nothing to be excited about. Given that the tofu cost about the same as stewing steak - bought for beef bourguignon later this week - I think I'd rather just eat beans than try to fake myself out with tofu. Should we ever completely give up meat, I might revisit that opinion.

This past week we've been arguing with a bird who wants to build its nest on the chimney pot of our dining room fire. It was winning, with us vacuuming the carpet in front of the fireplace twice a day and picking up the sticks that fell through. We don't begrudge it the space, it simply isn't safe and we didn't want to be picking up a dead bird or having cooked eggs on the hearth. So, we are now the proud owners of a 'seagull cage'. Only it turned out to be a black bird - probably a crow - who broke a twig off the tree just as the cage man was standing at the front door telling us of his arrival. The cage covers the neighbour's pots as well but rather than ask for half we just got permission to do the work. 

Earlier this month we had the tree 'trimmed'. Butchered would be more apt but, hey, it takes longer to grow back to a pesky height that way. 

I finished a longstanding project in time for WI Craft Group last night. It is a birthday present for Simon's girlfriend - who is now his wife of almost two years. I had initially tried to line it using some upcycled plastic but it was too stiff, so I had to take it apart and re-do the straps and lining. 

So I need to tidy the East Wing as it looks like the usual wreckage following a project. Yesterday I filed my FBAR form. This is the one where I tell the US government about the most money held in each of my foreign (British) accounts during the Calendar Year 2020. Nosy of them, isn't it? I'm almost used to the intrusion, but not just quite.

I've also nearly got my US taxes done, or rather the accountant in California has. Every single year I have to tell them to correct the same mistake; I shudder to think what other errors they make that I've no hope of catching. 

I've decided to bite the bullet and pay an accountant to do my UK taxes this year and - gasp - to do them early on rather than in January (when the payment is due). They no longer seem to me as simple as they once were, not least because I had endless trouble signing into the online account. I feel too old for this sort of hassle.

I planted two "chicken boxes" (black plastic trays that 20-some chicken breasts come in) with various lettuces. I hope to plant more with basil, coriander and parsley.  Bill found a text on his phone that our GP had tried to reach him with, but since he's already got his first Covid-19 vaccine from the national system, he's stuck with it. We both struggled to book my vaccination appointments on the national system but finally did - only one is 50 miles away in Darlington (in late Apr) and the other 12 miles away in Washington (in late Jun). So when he found this text with a GP's booking website, I had a go and got two appointments two miles away - the first is on Friday! When all goes well with that I'll ring up and cancel the other ones. The wonderful NHS is free, but rarely convenient or straightforward. 

I'm feeling rather sanguine as I have two purchased birthday presents in hand for Bill's upcoming birthday (73). One is a book that I think we would both enjoy (and he heartily approves of such purchases). The other is the biggest box of chocolates I could buy him without feeling I was hastening his demise.

Those are all my thoughts on this day. Happy St. Patrick's Day!