It’s my last evening before moving on from Carlisle, a town that has been kind to me (and for which I’ve always had a soft spot). After a day’s walking your tummy says “gimme carbs” in a tone of voice that will brook no argument, so I popped around the corner to a modest Italian place and had a big bowl of simple spaghetti aglio-olio. Spot on.
And then I caught myself twirling it insouciantly round my fork, and remembered that we don’t eat spaghetti or other long pasta at home because Sally can’t twirl it any more.
Sod you, Parkinson’s.
That’s why I’m doing this. About 200,000 steps, but maybe it can help with one tiny step towards defeating Parkinson’s the Spaghetti Denier.
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Hey Gramp!
Much love from number 5 Bateman street!
We get the ‘carb craving’ everyday and, more often than not, fulfil it as well. 🙂
Tonight we have made a veggie lasagne for Nan and us, yum…
Hope all goes well on the rest of the journey;
Love Jediah, Finley and Katie <3