Doing nothing

I’m not very good at doing nothing. All my life I’ve dashed around in a frantic state of constant busy-ness. Work fills the weekdays, kid stuff the evenings, and weekends we ferry kids around to activities or go exploring in the highlands. Since the start of the lockdown, our weekends have changed and I’ve been forced to slow down. This has been good for me. There’s an art to doing nothing which takes time and patience to learn. I’m a long way from mastering it but I’m starting to appreciate it.

These days, I wake up on the weekends, and rather than leap out of bed in a burst of jet-propelled activity, I wander aimlessly through the house in a state of indecisiveness – should I do some cooking? Maybe I should tend to the garden or go for a bike ride? Or I could read a book or do some spring cleaning? Or I could – shock horror – just put my feet up and do nothing? What would I do if I just put my feet up and did nothing? I’d have to crochet or read. I don’t think I could literally do nothing. Can you?

I’ve been baking a lot of cakes recently. I’m stuck in a recursive cake-baking loop. A few months ago I started making my own milk from almonds. It’s so quick and easy to make and all that’s required are almonds and water. However, a byproduct of the process is almond pulp which would be a terrible waste to discard so I end up baking chocolate cakes with it. The problem is my recipe for chocolate cake requires almond milk so I end up making more almond milk for the cake which requires the baking of more cake to use the pulp which requires more almond milk which requires more cake ….. and on and on.

The plus side is the almond pulp makes a really nice chocolate cake with a lovely nutty flavour and texture.

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