One of my swimming friends is away this weekend and the other one messaged this morning to say she wasn't feeling very well and didn't think she should come swimming, so I decided that rather than going for a swim by myself I'd go for a walk (while I have been doing quite a bit of walking what with parking my car two miles from the office, I don't count walking to work as Going For A Walk, and therefore hadn't actually Been For A Walk for quite a while). I took advantage of it being a weekend rather than a weekday morning to go over to Begbroke and up Spring Hill (now we're not in lockdown the rush-hour traffic makes crossing the A44 to get there and back pretty much impossible on weekdays), but then I took a different path rather than the one I usually get back which started out well but ended up dropping me just the other side of Yarnton with a fairly dull walk home. Still, it was good to get out.

I then spent most of the rest of the day cooking. I don't actually do a lot of cooking normally, but having successfully nurtured a sourdough starter last spring I do make a loaf of bread every week, or sometimes, as this week, a pizza, so I fed the starter when I got back from my walk. Then I made Nigella Lawson's rosemary loaf cake, because T was busy quizzing and we were out of cake, and stewed the rhubarb that appeared in this week's vegbox so I can make it into rhubarb and custard ice-cream*, and by this point it was nearly time to make the pizza dough and sauce. I haven't actually done any sewing at all today, which feels very strange.

*I bought T an ice-cream maker for his birthday earlier this month. There was absolutely no ulterior motive to this gift, honest guv.