Hit and mish-mash

I owe an apology to the inventors of mish-mash, God rest their souls. Turns out that Uncle's, where we first ate it, makes the worst mish-mash in town. We've eaten it a couple of times since at what we've called the posh restaurant - because it's not falling to pieces and because the bill comes to more than a tenner for five people - and it's been rather nice. Still, despite the ludicrously cheap food and the fact that you don't have to wash up if you eat out, we've been eating in a lot because the food in restaurants is so monotonous. The main ingredients are eggs, potatoes, tomatoes, cucumber, ham, chicken and two indistinguishable types of cheese, "yellow" and "white". At least at home we know exactly what we're eating, and we can be more inventive with the similarly limited range of food in the shops. Why, we've even had pasta with a creamy mushroom sauce!

This morning I went paragliding for the first time ever, on a tandem flight with a rather sexy Bulgarian man called Emmo. There's something quite erotic about being stuck in a harness thousands of feet up in the air with a gorgeous man. But about the flight itself. It took me a while to relax, and throughout the flight part of me just wanted to get to the ground. The best moments were doing "acro", when Emmo made us turn somersaults: one moment you're facing the ground, the next the sky.

tbc...