In case you were wondering, I know I spelt spaghetti wrong. An awesome teacher I used to know once told me that she could only say ‘spagatelli’ and not ‘spaghetti’ when I was having trouble pronouncing something or other. Sadly she passed on within a year, but I remember thinking how cool she was to make me feel better like that.
However, we are not here to discuss my schooldays way back when. We are here to discuss the most important issue of today (for me) which is…how do you light a gas stove without burning your hand? The answer is, you don’t. It is physically impossibly to light the stove in the kitchen without burning my hand, and I will be overjoyed when I don’t have to cook any more.
I made spaghetti and meatballs today, and it was pretty excellent. I put that down to the awesome ingredients rather than my cooking skill, because my cooking skill is far from skillful, and the ingredients were just lovely. Aziz seemed to like it, so that was alright.
I added spinning on the end of the title there because I haven’t talked about spinning. I went spinning last Tuesday morning. If you don’t know what spinning is,
|It looks like this|
|…aaand it feels like this|
I am not a massively sporty person, but I am also not totally unfit. Or so I thought. I lasted 15 minutes of a 45 minute workout of death on one of those things. That’s not happening again. I think I might still ache a little bit from it, a week on. My pride certainly still aches, knowing I was thoroughly outdone by a group of middle-aged Moroccan women in lycra and head bands.
Thought you’d like to know about that. Ta-ra.