Faith and flapjacks

We met Peter Owen-Jones in Waitrose this morning. We shook his hand and said how much we enjoyed his latest programme, about living a simpler life, one without money. The programme really hit home - not least because it was mostly filmed in his parish of Firle, part of our personal stamping ground and Firle Beacon being a favourite windy whippety walk (the Beacon is always windy; the whippet only when he's had sardines for tea).

Neither my husband or I have a standard 9-5 "job" - he is a self-employed copywriter and fledgling poet working from home, and I am a mix of Chief Socks'n'Pants Washer/Caterer/exams invigilator/embroidery teacher and procrastinating textile "artiste". He earns considerably more than I do, but we are not exactly flush with cash and because of the itinerant nature of our work we do not have colleagues. As a result, life can seem to be all about hard work for little reward with nobody else to share it all with; a lonely life. The programme really touched on the notion that we are all so busy trying to earn enough so that we don't need anyone else, we just end up lonely.

Our conclusion from watching the programme was to stop seeking to have more, and being jealous of those who do have more, and just give more instead. We've both never forgotten the stamp-selling lady on the Isle of Bernera who, when we told her we were camping wild, exclaimed "Och, I'll do ye a cheese burger in the microwave!"

I digress. No microwaved cheese burgers for us today, but some date flapjacks:



Not the ultimate flapjack, and not as good as usual because a deficit of oats necessitated a visit to That Supermarket, which resulted in a mistaken purchase of Jumbo Oats. Not the best thing, but I doubt there will be any left this time tomorrow.