jamie oliver's roast chicken, feta and green bean bake

What a weird day. I cycled in the heaviest downpour of the year, but it was sooo humid. Within an hour of getting to work and cooling down, the sun came out and the rest of the day was baking.

Luckily the afternoon drowse was enlivened by the appearance of Mr David Taylor Esq, complete with golfing/carp fishing splinter in his massive, massive hand, for a glamorous 'business' lunch at Sophies. It was really cool to see him, even if I did bore him at great length with what we in the wine trade call 'utter crap'. He was polite enough not to mind too much, or at least appear not to.

Back at home we're beginning the slow process of packing up for next weekend's move. We've got a stack of boxes, many of which Ana has already filled, so whilst Jamie's by-now-classic baked chicken dish is ticking away in the oven we start de-constructing the flat.

It's a bit sad, but at the same time now I know we're going, I really can't be bothered with keeping the flat tidy, or indeed making any effort whatsoever. And clearly I'm suffering from some sort of wobbly hand syndrome, by the look of this photo...