Sarah Weinberg is a Green Wife
It’s been about five years since we last ate fish, and I’m worried that Notty’s concentration in class may be suffering from our determination to save world fish stocks.
I scrape the bread on to a drying rack in two pieces, and dash into the garden to take advantage of a gap between rain clouds.
I’m about to start planting out the beans into the vegetable patch when I remember that I have promised our kids a ‘Night Off’. We are going to flick the mains switch at 5.30 and eat, play games, bath and go to bed by candlelight, undisturbed by a single electric current. I hadn’t taken into account that this would mean bye-bye Mr Oven too. I quickly bung in the pork, and manage to peel a few potatoes (Delia: they still taste better than Smash), and plant out a few lines of beans and spinach before the end of the school day.
On the way home, Alfie asks whether we can use the laptop, since it is fully charged. I growl and send him into the garden to play football against the dog. Notty helps fold up sheets and mash potato. We are lighting candles when Mark arrives home. As it begins to get dark, we take the meat out of the oven and switch off the mains.
Something magic has happened. The Chinese laundry-greenhouse looks beautiful in the flickering light. The pork is perfect. Even the bread doesn’t taste too bad, and we can hear the sound of silence. Everything is more fun than usual, and suddenly, our Good Life seems just a little bit glamorous too.
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