ba-dee-ya.

It was September. It is September. There's a temptation to think, after a spell of not writing, that you just "don't feel like writing anymore". That's a rather grand reduction, and not totally true, in reality I'm totally distracted by many things, at this moment by the current Britishness of my vocabulary, "spell", and "grand", for example, maybe it's to do (another one) with watching the rather desperately uninspiring fourth season of Downton Abbey last week. I don't know much about the mechanics of the new binge-watchable Netflixing, but it seems in this case that killing off your most relatable male character in Season 3 (spoiler alert!) has some significant dramaturgical consequences. Thus we get 4 episodes of third-tier character Moseley looking for work and Alfred trying to get into cooking school. D+.

Otherwise, the not writing bit: I just got tired of writing about medication, being on it, coming off it, living without it, etc. It's not a super rewarding subject to talk about in public b/c if you haven't suffered from any of these problems (insomnia, depression, addiction) you just don't/can't care, or you might care but you'll never really understand ("just go to sleep, you wanker", "just quit moaning and go to the gym you wanker", just have two beers then stop, you wanker"), and if you have had them you already know pretty much everything I'm saying. For me reporting obvious and well-(mis)understood facts has never really been a good enough reason to start typing.

Considering "really writing" here, but as always, that's a fleeting inspiration that almost never lasts past a first draft. Instead, I post pictures of what I've been doing: visiting Mara at work; eating extremely penile organic hotdogs from Hema (if you ever need to buy "a real American hot dog", this is what you should buy, don't bother with the bullshit at the grocery stores); reading Karl-Ove Knausgaard.

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fried green tomatoes.

This phrase means something to Southerners I think. It's a promise of a regional dish that is rarely done exceptionally well, mostly one of those things that sounds better on paper than it ends up being in the flesh.

I have had exactly one good version of fried green tomatoes, or rather I had the same good version three or four times. South City Kitchen in Atlanta really knew what they were doing with these, serving them crisped up with a layer of soft goat cheese and a spicy.sweet red pepper coulis.

Since we're watching our upstairs' neighbor's cats, we have access to the dying embers of their rooftop summer garden, and one of the only edible things left (besides the peas) is green tomatoes. Add to that fact that catfish was on sale for €1,99 a bag and ripe avocados were 3 for €1, diner seemed preordained. I made guacamole, I fried catfish, and then I made this pretty awesome thing to go with it (well actually I made the relish first, but).

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where it's at.

This is where Mara works.

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