Confessions

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I don’t brush my hair every day – there I have said it. I brush it when I am going to work and often on other days, but sometimes over the weekend it goes unbrushed …. possibly for some time.

I all started when I was swimming a lot over the summer. I don’t wash my hair very often (maybe once a week or once every two weeks). I also put my hair in plaits to stop it getting tangly while working on the very windy smallholding. But brushing out salt-water encrusted plaits is hard. So if I can’t be bothered to wash my hair or I don’t want wet hair, I kind of scoop the plaits up into a bun-type thing. Basically this looks OK from the front (I have no idea what it looks like from the back) so the next day I tend to leave it as is while silently promising to have a shower that evening. But long days sometimes get the better of me and the hair stays in its bun for another day especially if I think I might go for a swim the next day.

Obviously things have gone too far now.

Yesterday, with Sylvia’s help, I picked all the apples off our oldest apple tree – planted by my grandma and granddad. I then pommed around in the house, before putting on my bee-suit and heading out to the apiary. Once in my bee-shed I got everything sorted, lit my smoker and decided to zip up the head veil-thing on my suit. At that point an apple fell on the floor …. quite a sizeable apple.

I must have fallen onto my head while i was picking the apples and got caught in my bun and then stayed there, even though I was bopping around in the house and wandering over the campsite.

It is official, my hair is messier than a bird’s nest and just like a bird’s nest it is capable of holding apples!

Yes, I washed my hair last night – the shame!

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But the title suggests there are plural confessions.

Despite the fact that I made a delicious cauliflower salad last week  and blogged about it only two days ago  the thought of a roasted cauliflower salad makes me feel queasy. I want to like them, and when I eat them, I do like them, but making them is hard to actually do (a bit like brushing my hair quite frankly).

So last night I not only washed my hair, but I also forced myself to make a roasted cauliflower salad. It was, again much to my surprise, wonderful. I need to make them more often.

Roast Cauliflower and preserved lemon salad: one cauliflower broken into florets; one large red onion chopped into wedges; 4-5 red peppers (if small homegrown ones or maybe 2 of the large bell peppers); half a preserved lemon; some kind of green herb – I used basil which was OK (it was what I had) coriander or mint would work too; oil, 2-3 tsp baharat (a middle eastern spice blend), juice of half a lemon, seasoning.

Put all veggies in a big pan. Mix  the oil with the spice and pour over the veggies and stir well – I use my hands – season.

ingredients

Roast until done – maybe 30-45 minutes. Add the final chopped preserved lemon, lemon juice and basil. We had it with some home-made pita bread and fried halloumi.

cauliflower salad

And I confess the halloumi was from the shop. A camper had left the halloumi in our fridge by accident and then emailed us to tell us they had left it, that it was OK and we could eat it – so we did.

I also eat chocolate brownies for breakfast. I posted the recipe for this earlier in the year, but I just thought I would mention it again as it is so good. It is definitely one for the food truck. I also had another portion this afternoon with a pear – revelation – brownie and pear is tomorrow’s breakfast sorted.

brownie

N.B. Just in case you think I am some kind of crazy skanky mad dog lady, I do have a shower pretty much every evening – got to wash the animal poo off somehow!

11 responses to “Confessions

  1. I never understood brushing one’s hair daily, but then again I’ve got loads of curly hair that turns into a ‘fro when I dare to brush it.
    You’re not alone in this aversion. 😁

  2. When I was little I HATED Mum brushing my hair and always pulled out the pigtails or bunches on the way to school. My hair was very long and very, very thick. “I can brush my own hair” I shouted. So Mum let me. To this day I can still see the look of total horror on Mums face as the hairdresser lifted up the perfectly combed tidy outer later of my hair up to reveal a bird nest underneath that had to be cut out!

    • I have a nasty feeling mine looks pretty feral as well – sometimes I cover it with a hat, but as the dog occasionally chews on it, I am not sure it helps!

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