Day 76: Thicker than Average

Last night I ate (unseasonally) some summer pudding.  It was delicious - purple, and luscious with juice-soaked bread walls.  This morning I recoiled violently when I touched (by accident) a crust of bread that had fallen into the sink and soaked up some water.  It felt disgusting - cold and sluggy and unexpected.  Both experiences involve wet bread.  Both very different.  It's all about context.

Cardamoms

Pistachios

 

QUESTION:  When is a pistachio not a pistachio? 

ANSWER:  When you are short-sighted*, and it is in fact a cardamom pod. 

This morning, shortly after I've recovered from Breadgate, I am idly waiting for my coffee to brew, when I notice a 'pistachio', sitting on the work surface.  Never one to look a gift nut in the mouth, I pop it straight into mine.  (No matter that I do not know the provenance, or how long it had been sitting on the work surface, or how clean the work surface is.  Actually, I think I do know that one.  It does not reflect well on me in several ways...)  I bite down to experience shock - the full Marrakesh souk hit of a cardamom pod.  Fished out of last night's pilau rice, and discarded - where it's been lying in wait for the entire night before MASQUERADING as a nut.  Same greenish colour, same size, same weight.  Dramatically different taste though.  Now, I like cardamom.  It's beautiful in curries, and rice.  Even in chocolate.  Not in the morning though.  And not when I was expecting pistachio.  It's all about context. 

An eye check-up this afternoon.  I dread this, because I always get slightly concerning results.  Last year a scan of my left eyeball showed a 'dark mass' (obviously I hear 'eye cancer').  There's also been talk of 'restricted visual fields' (ie eye cancer) and 'blind spots' (eye cancer.)  Today, my optician, who has very good teeth and smells of lemons, sits back and smiles whitely.  'You're thicker than average', he pronounces.  I am delighted.  For he is not referring to my IQ or my waist, but my corneas - and his discovery means that my dangerously high intra-ocular pressure reading is explained and unconcerning.   

Happy to be thicker than average.  As I say, it's all about context.

*  I was wearing my glasses.  But, in the words of my optician, they are 'shagged'.