Because we shop on a Saturday, by Friday night the fridge and cupboards look rather sparse. We plan, and we stick to our plans. We don’t just guess what we might need that week.
I find Heinz tins to be incredibly haughty. Beans, soups, even the interesting concoction known as Macaroni Cheese. Every time I try putting one in to my cupboard, it feels as if it’s sneering at me.
The sound of joy and laughter fluttered up from the square below; it was utterly infectious.
We laid down the gauntlet to ourselves: over a series of holidays we would traverse the four corners, the quadrants, of Iceland. The first on the list was the south west: Suðurland and Reykjanes.
Imagine my surprise when we went to our local supermarket, to buy a new pair of school shoes for my daughter. The horror.
I know that some people find online food shopping an absolute boon: it takes a large time sink of a task out of their busy schedule. Good on them. I hate it.
I don’t suppose you remember Easter, do you? It was a long time ago now: a slightly faded memory, like yesterday, through an Instagram filter. The main thing I remember is the chocolate: for a month or three all of the chocolate in all of the shops came in the shape of a freshly laid egg. Then it didn’t.