Lamb pittas with Laura

During the night I have to shed the blanket over my duvet, as it has become much warmer during the night. When we get up, around seven and I venture into the garden to repeat my Tai Chi exercises, the wind has swung to the south and it is much, much, warmer. I also repeat my early morning dose of hot water and cider vinegar, which tastes quite nice, with a little sweetener added. My arthritis feels better this morning, much less stiffness in my hands and feet, but whether this is my remedies, or the change in the weather, is anyone's guess, but more likely the latter, after such a short time interval. After breakfast, I phone Felicity, who sounds much more cheerful and says she will try to make the Poppy Seed this morning. We leave the house at ten and it is cloudy and spotting with rain, but undeterred, I load Norman into his pillion seat in the basket on my bike, padded out with an old embroidered cushion, that I inherited from my last bungalow. We set off and are soon pedalling into a brisk headwind, nevertheless it still only takes a quarter of an hour to cover the couple of miles to the cafe. I park the bike outside and enter, expecting to find Felicity, but once more I am the first to show. Hanne arrives after five minutes and tells me Felicity has had a tumble between some dustbins, outside her house. She is mercifully unhurt, but felt a little shook up and decided to stay at home. Hanne is driving her to the diabetic clinic after lunch. Annie is dropped off by her daughter, Pippa, who is visiting until Friday and Thelma arrives five minutes later. Hanne has been fascinated by a TV programme which covered the recent scientific breakthrough about the ability to hide, or cloak information, in a fibre optic light stream, and proceeds to enthral the others about it. ( I read about it in the Guardian Science section, a few days ago). She is also going to see Helen Mirren, in a telecast of "The Audience" tonight, but I don't fancy it, having seen Mirren do the Queen before. Norman starts to get restless about half past eleven, so I say goodbye to the girls and take him for a quick toilet walk to the market square, where he empties his bladder, and then we ride home. The sun has come out and it is hot, so I have to shed a couple of layers, the warm westerly wind is now behind us and so we fairly fly home, arriving just before noon. It is so warm that I take off my jeans and change into shorts, before driving to the pool, needing the car in order to collect Laura from Molescroft Primary later. When I arrive at the Leisure Centre, I am told the pool is closed, because of a problem with the filtration system, but that it should be OK by three. This is no good to me, as I have to collect Laura by half past, so I make my way to the cafe for a tea and one of Danny's scones, as a consolation prize. Sandra, on the counter, tells me a fresh batch of scones are in the oven and that they will be ready in ten minutes, if I am prepared to wait. I concur and also receive a free  pot of tea, as a compensation to swimmers, because of the pool closure. Generally, I refuse to eat warm scones in cafes, because of the practice of freezing them and then thawing them out in the microwave, but Danny's are freshly baked, aromatic and superb, almost making up for my frustration at not being able to continue my run of good form in the pool. I use the time this has freed up, to drive to Morrison's, where I buy some more flowers for the Garden Room, roses, carnations and a couple of pot mums and then purchase a lawn repair kit from Pound Stretcher, next door, which is half the price of the supermarket, in order to make good Norman's urine burns on the grass. This done, I have just time to put the car into the Polish hand car wash, before collecting Laura. The economy must be picking up, because the Polish guys have put their price back up to six pounds, they had to reduce it to five when the recession first hit. I sit in the sun, on a wall in the playground, waiting for Laura, the children are selling garden plants, to raise funds for the school in the playground, and when she emerges, we buy the last four geraniums for £2, before making our way to the newly gleaming car. I ask her if she would prefer to plant the flowers first, or to cook first and she opts for the latter, as she says she is starving. I have prepared the garden, with all the cushions on the chairs, bench and sun lounger, as well as the red check, Dutch, table cloth which I have pinned into place, against the wind. Laura tests the sun lounger, which she says is better than a bed and then wraps herself in a fleecy blanket, with a Burberry, plaid pattern and pretends to fall asleep. "It is so comfortable!" She squeals. We then run through our routine for cooking, washing our hands thoroughly, wiping down the cooking surfaces, and then assembling all the utensils and ingredients. We are making lamb pitta breads with tossed salad and oven chips, but as I had to use up the lamb mince yesterday, I have simplified the recipe by buying lamb grill steaks from Morrison's earlier. We put the oven on to heat to 220 degrees centigrade, and then run the extension lead to a little round table, next to the larger rectangular one, in the garden and plug in the grill and the toaster. While the grill is warming up, Laura prepares the salad and I have to persuade her to persist in the right way to use the paring knife to peel the cucumber, supporting the vegetable with her thumb, while pulling the blade towards it. It takes a little while, but she gets there in the end, I have also introduced, red, yellow and green peppers, to the usual tossed salad mix of cucumber, spring onions, tomato and lettuce. We also make larger chunks of peppers, to cook on the grill, with the lamb. When the salad is ready, we put some chips on a baking tray and place them in the oven. We now have twenty minutes in which to grill the lamb, toast the pittas and make some mint yogurt, with which to accompany them. I have brought a brush and some olive oil, in order to coat the grill and Laura does this, before putting the lamb and peppers on to cook. Then she mixes a little mint sauce with some yogurt and we add a few leaves of torn, fresh coriander, for extra colour and flavour. We have just plated the lamb pittas and salad, when the oven alarm rings, to tell us the chips are ready, so I go indoors and fetch them from the hot oven and then carry them to the table, using an oven glove. Everything is now ready and dinner is served. Laura isn't greatly enamoured with the mint sauce, but as she has tried it, I swap my second Pitta for her first, as it still undressed and I simply adore lamb with salad and a mint yogurt dressing. The sky darkens from the West as we eat, but it doesn't start to rain, until we have eaten dessert, fresh strawberries, also with yogurt, just as Sam and Rebecca arrive. They help to clear the dishes to the kitchen sink and put the various cushions back in their box in the airing cupboard, before the skies fully open and the rain pours down. Sam has brought some chicken nuggets and some dough balls for Rebecca's dinner, she is autistic and very particular in what she eats. I ask Sam if she has eaten and she confesses she hasn't, so Laura and I reprise our routine, but have to replace the lamb with a quarter pounder beef burger, the rain stopping just in time to reactivate the grill. Rebecca and Sam eat dinner, while Laura and I prepare more strawberries, then once everyone has been fed, we retire to the front room and chat until it is time to go home. Laura says that schnitzels are still her favourite and I ask if she has made any yet for her mum, she says no, but Sam says she has some pork steak in the refrigerator, so I give Laura a tin of breadcrumbs and lend her my tenderising hammer. Next week, she wants to make Calzone Pizza. She also tells me she has the chance of learning to play the Cello at school, so I play her Julian Lloyd Weber's "The Swan", and she is enchanted for a moment by the beauty of the music. " I didn't realise Cello music could be so lovely!" She sighs. "And you haven't heard Jaqueline Dupres yet", I reply. Too soon it is seven o'clock and time for home, we have had another lovely time together. I hope these are memories of our times together that she will treasure, long after I have gone. Later, I wash the pots and manage to read for half an hour, before tiredness catches up with me and it is time for bed.