Artichokes and other things

At lunch today with my cousin I promised him I would use this title on the next blogpost, so here it is. I went to his place with my mother and mum's old housekeeper, who came down to Sydney to see mum. G is going to the Mardi Gras tonight, and it's the first time she has seen this civic display; there is nothing like it in Brisbane. G flew down from the Coast yesterday. Tomorrow she is going to see mum in the nursing home. G will be in Sydney for a week.

Today I cleaned house. I vacuumed the carpet and mopped the kitchen floor. I threw out two bags-worth of rubbish down the chute. I was busy.

This morning I went north to the nursing home with G and we got mum out of her room into the car for a trip up the road to my cousin's place. My cousin is the son of mum's late brother. He gave me a box of books that he doesn't want, including a second British edition of John Reed's Ten Days That Shook the World and a number of old editions of novels by Ethel Turner. I haven't looked through the box in detail but there are a few lovely gems that deserve to be looked after. Despite the fact that I am already up to the eyeballs in books - and boxes of books - I agreed to take these into my care. They belonged to my cousin's grandfather, who is also my grandfather and my mother's father.

My cousin and his lovely wife prepared a special repast for us today. It was a main course of chicken and potatoes, with artichokes and chorizo and baked in the oven. There was also a green salad. And an apple strudel for dessert. And coffee. And wine. It was a delicious repast that I will remember for a long time.

We came back to the nursing home along Pennant Hills Road and through the traffic. Then G and I drove down the M2 into the Lane Cove Tunnel and onto the Warringah Freeway and the Harbour Bridge and back home along the Western Distributor.