I am filled with rage at my missing lemon curd . It is all the fault of British Summertime ( if indeed this is the name of the clocks going forwards lark that upsets my body clock and has me sleeping in and losing my hour's reading time from 5 30 am till 6 30 which is mine, all mine ! ) Instead of waking as usual I am all out of synch and dreaming strange dreams and it is the alarm which wakes me at 6 45 .
I potter and stay in bed reading anyway till late as I have a day's leave , thus at nine am I am as I reach for my lemon curd I realise I have almond butter in my hand . Someone has moved my lemon curd and I move from slight irritation into rage . Pulling out the entire contents of the fridge I conclude that the lemon curd has either been binned by Someone in error ( not me ) or placed elsewhere in error ( possibly me ? ) where it will doubtless show up when safely out of date . I ring D at work to ask if he has any thoughts on the matter . Waiting in a local school to interview a headteacher , he sounds incredulous . Lemon Curd ? he says , and it is impossible for me to convey the tone of his voice , which is incredulous in most of his dealings with me even before I speak . Sometimes I think we are Opposites in every way . It doesn't matter , I say , dejected . And later , to myself in an undertone .... It will show up . I can eat my yoghurt with a smattering of linseeds and no lemon flavouring . It won't be the same but there you go . I was planning a day out but things came up . I am in martyrish mood and determined to enjoy it , every moment of it . I start to see the fun in being the martyr .
When he appears with a new jar for me I don't know whether to be suspicious or grateful .