White Asparagus.

Another cold, clear, day after breakfast and a shower, Norman and I drive to Burton Bushes, where I let him root among the leaves and branches. A strong wind is blowing from the southwest and on that side of the wood it is moving the branches with its force, and providing a constant rustling, moaning refrain. Away from the southwest it is pleasant and quiet, the sunlight dappling through the remaining leaves and highlighting the rich textures of the undergrowth. We stay for a little under an hour and then return home via Morrisons as I need more soap powder to complete my weekly wash, while I am there I buy a bunch of white asparagus, to cook later in the day. Norman eats some biscuits, and I leave him plenty of water, before driving to the leisure centre. It is ten minutes to one when I arrive and the pool will be cleared at half past to prepare for the children, so I swim 3 x 500m on freestyle, breaststroke and backstroke and just have time for a 100m IM before they throw us out. After a tea and a scone in the cafe I head home, pausing to make a call to a friend in the car park. Before leaving I had hung out my shirts and when I return they are dry, so I bring them in and then make coffee and settle down with a piece of pumpkin pie to read the local paper. My friend phones back and we chat for a while and then it is time for Norman's dinner and his evening walk. Later I sautée the asparagus in butter shave some Parmesan over it and eat it with crusty bread and a glass of Piesporter. White asparagus has a more delicate taste than the green variety and I enjoyed it greatly. It is the first time I have had it for over twenty years. Later I read some more Kadare and turn in around ten.