Frost, Oysters and Mussels

It's more like December today and very frosty this morning.  I couldn't open the doors on the Land Rover, even after using the deicer, so couldn't go into town to collect bread for the animals.  All the animal water containers had to have the ice broken and leaves and twigs everywhere were edged with silvery-white.

After I'd looked after the animals, I came out of the barn door, locking it as usual.  I turned round to face the veggie bed opposite the door and there were oyster shells on the earth, as if someone had eaten their dinner up on my field. 

Strangely, about 3-4 years ago, when I opened the shed door one morning there was a packet of Quaker Porage Oats inside, as if someone had eaten their breakfast there.  Perhaps my field is a hot spot for a traveller who enjoys his food.

The grass around the calvaire, about 70 metres from my house, was really white, although now, at 11.30am the sun is out and it's a lovely day, so it's probably all melted away now as it's in such an open position.

The boys have yet to come in for breakfast.  I have done their job and emptied the dishwasher and put everything away, but they still have to do the hoovering.

I asked them yesterday evening if they would do it in the morning, the carpet is looking dreadful. The bin needs emptying again and the empty bottles are stacking up.  The Dysons all need their filters cleaning and Matthew usually does that when he's here, so hopefully he'll do that today too. 

I've found the bottle of Muscadet which I want to use when I cook the mussels for lunch.  I'm doing them marinière style, with chopped shallots, parsley, the Muscasdet white wine, seasoning and the mussels.  I haven't had mussels since July, and if I find I can't eat them, I will at least be able to eat the sauce. 

I haven't been to the shops, but have part-baked French bread to finish in the oven, which will mop up the sauce.  It's not traditional,  but I like to add a container of cream to the sauce after I've taken the mussels out with a slotted spoon.  Then when it's heated through I pour the sauce over the mussels - I am drooling just writing about it.  Here I am cooking them later for our very late lunch.  (You can see that the stash of empty bottles has been taken out.)

The sun is streaming through the window and I have had to move my chair slightly so it isn't in my eyes - lovely, lovely day.  Matthew had thought he was going home today, but when we looked at the ticket it is tomorrow and not until the 11.30pm boat, so that's good.

Lastly, two photographs of the sunset this evening.  The first of Saturday's new moon from the terrace and the second, the sky from my barn back door.

Three things I like:

1.   This lovely winter sunshine.

2.   Poaching freshly laid eggs for breakfast.

3.   Watching The Gruffalo.