You know that rule: “Before you do anything, you have to do something else first”? No matter what the situation it’s true.

Go back a bit. I received an Instant Pot for Christmas. I recognized it as a compliment to my culinary skill and continuing activity in the kitchen. Even so, I was a bit daunted. I cook for one, mainly, and I have adopted shortcuts that taste good and though I still try new recipes, I tend to avoid anything too fancy - or too fattening. I was going to return the IP but I took the time to think about it and to read the accompanying recipe booklet that came with it. It took a while but after almost four weeks I decided to go for it.

First, I had to make room. I had read that it must stay available on the kitchen counter and I accepted that because there’s no room in my cupboards. That meant that other things must go and that I had to change my work space. I’ve told you before about Lilian Gilbreth, the industrial engineer who with her time-motion studies enabled me to improve my work habits and save time and energy for writing even as I raised four children, roughly two years apart. So first, as I said, had to move my work space - across the aisle (it’s a small corridor-kitchen, but even so). The knife-holder and the cutting boards had to move because the IP had to be close to an electrical outlet where I had a pretty collection of cylindrical glass containers of different heights for storage of certain staples, such as pasta (in a tall one) or poppy seeds (short) or pumpkin seeds (medium) and so on - five in all. They took up too much space. I did have some empty clear plastic canisters on the third, top shelf of the Lazy Susan cupboard and I transferred the staples to those, off the counter and out of sight. And the lovely glass jars went to the Basement Boutique. I have told you about the Basement Boutique, haven’t I?i It’s a private recycling depot for residents who discard good stuff they no longer have a use for (and often pick up someone else’s discarded treasure for themselves). It broke my heart- briefly. I really liked those containers - which incidentally came from the Boutique, one or two at a time. I only had to buy new corks. I did all this clearing while I was studying recipes and figuring out how to cook my first food in the IP - for guests. Pork tenderloin.

NOTE: That was yesterday. I had people coming for tea and they arrived so I left you. I’m back now with nothing more to say. I made pork and beans with the leftover pork (not much left).

This has been a strange week. (What week isn’t?) Anyway…

I finally finished The Icelandic Adventures of Pike Ward, edited by K.J. Findlay, Amphora Press, 2018. “The frank and entertaining diary of a Teignmouth (England) fish merchant who became a hero in Iceland. His account of the harsh conditions, rugged landscape, local characters and customs gives us fascinating insights into an extraordinary way of life .” (From the back cover)

I read a review of the book in the TLS (Times Literary Supplement) and actually ordered it for my cousin as a late Christmas present. Now it is very very late. I was just going to skim it and send it along to her. Instead, I read - and enjoyed - the whole thing. What the blurb about the contents doesn’t tell you is that Pike Ward was a very good writer. His descriptions of the Aurora Borealis are dazzling, but anyone can be inspired by that colour show. He also describes the rare sun in the dark time of year, fierce storms (blizzards on the land, on an Icelandic pony, maelstroms on the sea, on a ship), and incredibly bad food. He passes his 50th birthday in the course of this journal; his stamina is astonishing, as is his tolerance of and ability to digest some very strange Icelandic food.. He travels to all the fishing bases and conducts his business with integrity, honesty and demanding standards that earned hims the respect and friendship of his associates. He loved Iceland. He called the home he built in Teignmouth Valhalla, and mounted Viking gargoyles on the roof line. He collected Icelandic artefacts and left them - around 400 objects - to the Royal Albert Memorial Museum in Exeter when he died in 1937 at the age of 80. His death was reported in the Icelandic newspapers. Aegir magazine recalled that “he had taught Icelanders new ways to prepare fish, helping them to increase the value of their produce and bringing huge benefits to the country.” (From the Epilogue in the book.)

The editor, K.J. Findlay, worked for two years on Ward’s diaries, augmented with amazing photographs (early 20th century, remember). It’s a good book. My cousin will love it.