My Garden

I’ve not yet had a garden to call my own, so I like to improvise.

My trusty corkboard has been my garden for over ten years. I change the photos depending on the seasons. I often take random ‘stock’ photos, if you like, of shapes and scenery which pleases me, a habit that has lasted since I was an Art student. These now live tucked under the bed in various collections, waiting for the day I bring them out for a moment of corkboard glory.


My cat Abigail rather likes gardens and doesn’t mind if they are fake. She will sit in them, or in front of them, regardless. She considers any surface to be hers, especially if I am taking an interest in it, more so if there is a keyboard on which to lounge.


Once parked, so to speak, Abigail will survey her kingdom (or is that queendom?) until I move her away. Then she will give me A Look (and cat owners especially will know the one I mean) and retreat until the next opportunity presents itself.

So sorry I have not been around much recently. I would like to blame it on the following: crisp autumn days, dark mornings, busy bee work, lindy hop, the Victoria line, the silly new trains on the Victoria line that break down if anyone breathes on the doors, collecting conkers, a preoccupation with walking, Hi-De-Hi, Agatha Christie on the Telly, dark evenings, lack of Twirl bars, rubbish home computer, searching for various items in the Room Time Forgot, Disaronno, and eating cupcakes in Westfield shopping centre. Normal service shall resume soon.