Headspace

If money could buy time and headspace, I’d happily spend my last penny.Peaceful Beach. Image by  visitingeu

Well, I have just figured out how to buy headspace. And it ain’t that expensive.

I have discovered a food delivery company that chooses the meals, delivers all the ingredients and includes beautiful step-by-step photocards of how to cook. The only thing you need in the house: olive oil and salt & pepper.

I don’t need to think what to cook. I don’t need to think what to shop. I am a changed woman. My head feels light and easy.

And best of all: my children now love my food and our son has started cooking. Last Thursday he served us Chicken Fajitas with homemade guacamole. It was divine.

By the way: The company does not know me (except as a customer). Moreover, I am risking my relationship with Peirene by writing this blog. She is in a huff, convinced she is no longer the centre of my universe.

She is wrong there. This food delivery company is her soul mate. They do for food what we do for literature – deliver a service with the aim to make subscribers’ lives happier. The Nymph could even learn from them.

Last week I found in my grocery box an envelope with three gift vouchers to give to friends for Christmas. £25 off their first order. They clearly have understood that happy subscribers can quickly turn into enthusiastic advocates.

So here goes: I will give away my three £25 Hello Fresh vouchers to the first three people who comment on this blog or send me an email. I’m serious. And by the way their portions are generous. A “meal for two” feeds two children, a Nymph and one mother.

Image by visitingeu.

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