I was chomping on the bit in a supermarket queue when a message pinged onto my ‘phone from Luc, who was waiting outside in the car. This was our exchange:

Luc: ‘Have u bn arrested?’

Me: ‘Er not yet, but thx for jumping to that conclsn. V slow – lady in front regaling cashier with ALL deets of sprained ankle. Cousin’s ex son-in-law (wtf?) had to take her to hospital. Mucho pain. And now me too…’

Luc: ‘When your turn tell the cashier all about your thyroid pblems!’

Me: ‘&@(€ §^$’

I read an amusing article in our local newspaper about a man who, when stopped by the police, obligingly produced his ‘Attestation De Déplacement Dérogatoire’ (the form we have to fill in to go anywhere during lockdown. The French love a form.) The man hadn’t found the appropriate box to check, as his reason for leaving the house was ‘to smash a bloke’s face in’. As the policeman said with some irony, ‘he seemed keen to make an effort to adhere to the rules, in his own way!’

Einkorn flour nutritional information

This cake is made with einkorn flour (although it will work very well with ordinary flour), which is one of my favourites because of its subtle nutty flavour. Einkorn flour is the most ancient form of wheat, and very different from modern wheat. It is very high in protein, essential fatty acids, phosphorous, potassium, iron, vitamin B6, lutein and beta-carotene, which gives it a golden tint. Einkorn flour has a very low gluten content which makes it much easier to digest than wheat flour.

Recipe for apple and sultana cake

• 2 large apples, peeled and sliced
• A handful of raisins
• 2 tablespoons dark rum
• 150g cane sugar
• 3 eggs
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 200g einkorn flour (you could use ordinary flour)
• 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
• Pinch of salt
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• Half teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
• 1 pot of yoghurt (125g)
• 75ml melted virgin coconut oil
• 75ml melted butter

Preheat the oven to 180°C and prepare and grease a loaf tin. Poach the apples and raisins in the rum and a small amount of water. Once the apples are soft (about 15 minutes), drain the excess cooking juice and set aside.

Beat the sugar and eggs together until homogeneous, add the vanilla essence and then gradually add the flour, cinnamon, salt, baking powder and bicarbonate of soda. Add the yoghurt, melted coconut oil and butter, mixing well. Lastly, stir in the poached apples and sultanas, transfer the mixture to the tin and bake for 35/40 minutes, or until a skewer comes out clean.

Bossy seems to have had a lot to say of late (lucky, lucky you!), so my writing skills have not been required. Having tested almost two months’ confinement, I have come to the conclusion that it is NOT for me. There are too many people, too many animals, too much noise, too much barking (human and canine) and far too much proximity. I really love it when they go out all day, which of course, they haven’t been doing.

To add insult to injury there are the haircuts (I use the term loosely). First Bossy did her poor husband’s hair. He kept telling her to ‘hurry up and stop dicking around’, which I though was a bit curt, although in fairness I can see why he was irritated; she kept collapsing into fits of uncontrolled giggles as she realised how asymmetrical he was. Every time she tried to straighten him up, things got worse because her glasses were misted up from crying with laughter. She ended up with hiccups and a wonky, irrate husband.

She also ‘did’ Java, who was uncooperative to the nth degree, probably because she’d witnessed the Great Husband Massacre. To cut a long story short (see what I did there?), Java, Bossy and the scissors ended up in the dark under the stairs. Thankfully Java’s coat is naturally long and messy so you can’t really tell the difference. Same goes for Bossy thinking about it. In fact, I’m not 100% sure who cut who’s hair.

Léo and I have managed to resist Bossy and the scissor threat so far. Léo just stands up any time she starts eyeballing his shoulder-length locks. And once he’s up, she’d need a stepladder to get anywhere near his head so he’s safe. Especially as she’s afraid of heights. I just growl menacingly if she so much as gazes in my direction, so I’m sorted too. I just hope she doesn’t come for us while we’re asleep…

These cookies are testament to the fact that Bossy is much better at baking than hairdressing.

Recipe for coconut cookies (gf)

• 100g chickpea (gram) flour (also works with regular flour)
• 25g desiccated coconut
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• Pinch of salt
• 80g coconut oil, melted
• 80g cane sugar
• 2 tablespoons rum
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
• 1 egg, beaten

Preheat the oven to 190°C. Sift the flour and coconut into a bowl, adding the baking powder and pinch of salt. Add the melted coconut oil, mixing well and then the sugar. Lastly add the rum, vanilla and beaten egg, mixing thoroughly.

Make roughly 12, 2cm dough balls with the mixture and then flatten them on to greased baking trays, leaving a bit of space in between each one. Bake for 15 minutes and leave to cool.

I would like to wish everyone a very happy and healthy new year. We had a pleasant, but reasonably uneventful Christmas, with the exception of a lobster theft, three sick people and several lost presents. As is tradition in France, we have seafood on Christmas Eve and this year it was more a case of ‘now you seafood, now you don’t!’ Luc had bought oysters and lobster which he prepared in advance and stored in a ‘safe’ place outside. The ‘safe’ place turned out to be a deluxe al fresco buffet for the dogs. (Luc has form: The story of the year we misplaced a guinea fowl thigh). They left most of the oysters though because there is definitely something of a knack to oyster slurping. Also there was no lemon to hand (or paw) and they are nothing if not discerning. Maybe next year. After that, we felt badly for the cat who hadn’t been invited to join the impromptu feast, so he got a smoked salmon platter, while we made do with omelettes and green salad. Luckily the lemon meringue had taken refuge in the back of the fridge and, as the dogs haven’t yet worked out how to open the door, it was intact. Every year we make this dessert several times between Christmas and New Year, each time more friends arrive and it always disappears in a flash, even without the dogs’ help. I’ve posted the recipe before, but it definitely bears repeating.

We have nearly two kilometres of sandy track leading to our house. With its tree roots, rocks, potholes and animal traces, our track is not conducive to good car health, and our suspension has given out four times in the past year. We’ve resigned ourselves to the fact that a new car is in order, but buying it is proving to be a problem. After much procrastination, we made it through the door of a Suzuki showroom today, did a quick recce of the 4x4s (I’m boring myself just writing this) and then legged it before anyone could collar us. The idea of having the ‘horsepower, fuel consumption, and whether or not it does 0 to 60’ conversation makes me want to gnaw my arm off, and Luc is no better. We both glaze over if somebody so much as mentions anything vaguely auto-related. All we want is a reliable metal thing on wheels that goes ‘vroom’ without doing my back in, and has a very good tempered suspension system (or whatever the technical term is). All suggestions gratefully received.

I recently discovered that for the past 12 years or so I have inadvertently been an adept of the practice of Forest Bathing, or Shinrin-Yoku as it’s known in Japan where it originated in the 1980s. Numerous studies are testament to the calming and rejuvenating virtues of simply being beneath a forest canopy. Emphasis is placed on slowing down; a sweaty hike aimed at increasing the heart rate it is not! Benefits include a boost to the immune system, reduced stress and blood pressure, improved mood, a better ability to focus, quicker recovery from illness, decreased inflammation, increased energy and improved sleep. Japanese doctors promote forest bathing as an antidote to the hectic urban life. I can certainly vouch for the practice; whenever I feel stressed (just thinking about car showrooms for example), I instinctively head off into the pine forest that surrounds our house.