Self Indulgence

With Julie gone for a week and another 3 weeks to go with her mum in Malacca, Malaysia I was beginning to pine for the taste of South-East Asian food. Julie had left jars of prepared sambal chilli paste, dried shrimp, tau foo and various other spice pastes in the fridge. I decided to use her mum’s recipe for nonya laksa. Prepared all the ingredients, prawns etc simmering away and went to the fridge for the shirataki noodles. I searched the fridge/freezer in the kitchen and the garage. I searched the drawers and cupboards in the kitchen and the garage. None to be found. I did find egg noodles. I decided to use them. I threw in a generous quantity, measured my BG – 4.9- and tucked in to my favourite SE Asian street food. Measured BG at one hour 8.1 at two hours 8.4, poured large scotch and allowed myself a rather self-indulgent funk

I say self-indulgent because viewing Channel 4 “Lost Children” soon snapped me out to realise how lucky some of us are. I can do no better than quote an extract from a review in today’s Guardian.

“Lost Children … looked at what can happen when teenage hormones flood the body of an emotionally battered boy. Josh was taken from his heroin-addicted mother at the age of three and placed in more than 20 different homes before he was six, when he and his little sister Demi were adopted by Sue, a social worker prepared to handle a difficult child. "You think a lot of attention and love will be enough," said Sue. But Josh is now 14 and it seems she was wrong. After a good start at a special school run by Barnardo's for those who have been excluded from the mainstream system, his behaviour deteriorated there and at home. His drug use escalated and valuable objects started to go missing from the house. Sue's voice got smaller, weaker, sadder by the minute. Eventually, agonisingly, the adoption broke down and Josh returned to the care system”

John