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.

Seeds as Snacks

I really feel I need to explain about the seeds.

Usually one would not have leftovers from the budgie as the only sustenance to last through a morning until lunch, but I have recently signed up to a company who, once a week, deliver a little box full of healthy things to snack on. These healthy things are in small little portions, designed to stave off hunger but keep you slim.

Of course, it probably doesn’t quite work like that if you tick the box to receive flapjacks. But they are good flapjacks! And they are tiny little bite-size bits of flapjack. So really it is a lot healthier than me buying a Twirl bar every day or being seduced by the twisted genius of franchise cookie sellers.

Along with flapjacks, there are portions of dried fruit, olives, and crackers. Usually one little portion in the box will be of seeds. Mostly I take them home to add to salads. Seeds are only snacks in extreme desperation.

While we are talking office snacks, have you heard of Feeders? Beware the office feeders my friends. These are slim folk who bring in an awful lot of cakes and biscuits to ‘share’ and never seem to tuck in themselves. It is all part of an evil plot to make them the slimmest in the room.

Then there are the office swoopers. I am afraid to say that I can be, on occasion, a swooper. We have three kitchens in our large office building, and me and my fellow swoopers will migrate anywhere for a coffee should there be a rumour of sweeties. We sidle in, exclaim in pretend surprise at the cakes, swoop, and then exit with a little clutch of goodies. We don’t care whose birthday it is. We just want cake.

I think I would actually go on strike if sugar was banned. I wouldn’t do the same for seeds, which defines their importance in my snack world.

What is your office snack?

Miserable Mugs

The only mug left in the office cupboard was one printed with ‘I Love Spreadsheets’. You can rather see why it was unloved.

Why are all office mugs so bloody miserable? Open the kitchen cupboards of any establishment and you will see mugs printed with corporate messages, mugs with patterns too hideous to go in normal homes, chipped mugs, stained mugs, and mugs with evil falsely jocular work-related slogans. These are the sort of mugs I would like to see:

Mugs with the number for Saneline
Mugs printed with ‘Cheer up, it’s not forever’
Mugs with flower patterns
Mugs that say ‘Think of the money’
The ‘Keep Calm and Carry On’ mug

Do you reckon there is a shop out there that only sells sad mugs? And don’t get me started on the office fridge. Every time I put yoghurt in there it disappears from view, only to re-emerge slightly swollen three months later. I swear there is a false door, a secret draw somewhere in its grubby white interior that gobbles my things and spits them out past the sell-by date. Also someone always tries to cram their week’s worth of shopping in there, don’t they?

I’d also like to mention that the most pointless office snack of all is seeds. Yes, you heard it right, a little mixed bag of seeds that makes me a) feel like a parrot, and b) scatters everywhere each time I go for a handful. I may yet be the only person who manages to grow sunflowers around their office chair.

Hello World

I picked up my new glasses yesterday morning and have spent most of my time since then knee deep in books. Oh books! Glorious books! The weekend hours have so far found me slouched in various places reading, occasionally with a cat, equally slouched. But now I have to emerge and do some writing work, as there is an Exciting Thing afoot.

This is all good as I started the week feeling terribly dejected – one of those Why-Is-My-Life-So-Sucky feelings that were last seen flailing around when aged fifteen. It involved a fair amount of flumping around the house until I forced myself to snap out of it/go to bed early and sulk. But then Exciting Thing popped up and made me smile at everything - despite work challenges, London transport, and woollen jumpers with annoying elbow-length sleeves.

I won’t say anymore about Exciting Thing yet in case it doesn’t go ahead, but it is amazing how a week can turn itself around. However, you do have to keep putting yourself out there in order for things to happen, exciting or not, so today I am polishing a short story in order to submit it to a magazine. I am also polishing off a tin of Roses. It seems one form of polishing cannot take place without the other.

In other exciting news, while out yesterday I bought yet another random plate to add to the various items of ancient crockery lurking under my bed. I don’t know how it happens – I go to the shops on a perfectly straight-forward normal exercise and return with a tea cup. I sleep at night on a bed of saucers, uncomfortably aware that in Narnia sleeping on treasures turns one into a dragon. But that was gold and silver… would 1960s china do the same? Perhaps I will become a ferocious tea maker.