And here they are…
Your household food bill is negligible. Yeah, even now.
Last week me and the boss spent the grand total of £43 for a weekly shop in Aldi – and for that we ate like royalty every single night.
Roast dinner, lasagne, chicken korma, veggie cottage pie (sublime, even if I do say so myself) fajitas, a recipe from one of Manchester’s finest curry houses and chicken stroganoff with, get this, quinoa. All made from scratch (polishes halo) by yours truly who suddenly has all the time in the world of an evening now the kids don’t need lifts to here there and everywhere and access to this, that and the other at a minute’s notice.
Also, weekends seem to last for around four days now that your time’s your own.
We even find ourselves slicing the days into chunks to break them up.
Last Saturday we drove out to the sticks and tested out some amplifiers and speakers at a high-end hi-fi dealership for a couple of hours, listening to stereos that God would sell you which pumped out music with such clarity that you could hear the drummer changing his mind. Then we wandered across a courtyard and enjoyed a smashing, leisurely lunch in a cafe– and we had a cake each.
When you’re used to paying for four, all of a sudden lunch out for two seems so cheap it feels like theft.
While all this was going on Daughter #1 was at a daytime Disclosure gig in a warehouse in Liverpool – she sent us a picture of her sitting on her mate’s shoulders near the front– and Daughter #2 was teaching drama to kids on her day off from studies.
We mainly communicate via wordless picture message. Me showing our dog and two cats fast asleep.
Them with pictures of meals that they’ve made - tacos and carbonara this week.
When they lived under our roof they could be a little princessy about mealtimes. Now they have to buy it and cook it themselves, not so much.