Friday, 29 April 2016


I'm a cereal person. Some of my earliest memories include sitting at the table eating cereal and reading the backs of cereal packets, as a fairly fussy eater I would have happily existed on Coco Pops, my childhood cereal of choice and the cereal my Aunt always made sure she had in the house when we went to stay with her in Chester (and the cereal that sometimes still appears, usually when I'm in need of childish comfort or when I'm at my parents' house and I'm tempted by the cereals that have been bought for my 12 year old nephew). We would dig down into the box looking for plastic wrapped toys, collect coupons to send off for a branded bowl or mug.

I grew up and my cereal choices expanded through a period of bran flakes and sultana bran, into muesli, porridge, and granola (the grown-ups sugary cereal of choice) as they do. But recently I've been thinking that this might not be the best way to start my days. That sleepy bowl of cereal often means I'm hungry again shortly after I get to work, even porridge can leave me with a rumbling stomach by mid-morning.

So, for the last week I've been trying something else (something that also fits my recent realisation that drinking strong coffee first thing in the morning can, at times, send my head off in a slightly unpleasant direction and make my heart beat in a way definitely not recommended). I've been getting up and drinking a very large mug of tea from my favourite tea-drinking mug, having a shower, and then going back to the kitchen to boil two eggs using Molly's method. I make coffee while they boil then sit at the table. I sprinkle salt over the eggs, I eat and I read and, usually, I'm not hungry again until lunchtime.

I bought a Kindle last Autumn. After not understanding the appeal, after saying it wasn't for me. But this isn't the point where I say I'm a total convert, that I haven't picked up a real printed on paper book since. I bought it for those books that I will only ever read once, the books that I don't expect to develop an attachment to, the page turners where the story only really works in its first telling, the books that I bought and that sat on our bookshelves for a few years before, inevitably, they ended up at a charity shop or passed on to other people to enjoy.  And, as it turns out, that is exactly what I have ended up liking it for. It serves a purpose, and I'm sure my occasional late night reading sessions are better tolerated when I'm reading by the Kindle's light instead of the bedside light, but a lot of the time I just miss the paper. I miss flicking back through pages to remind myself what happened, I miss checking to see how much there is left in a chapter while deciding just how long that late night reading session might last, I miss book covers, and, as it turns out, I just can't seem to connect to books in the same way when they're on a screen rather than in my hands.

This morning I finished reading this. Mum passed it on to me when I was staying a few months ago. I started reading it sitting on the grass and eating my lunch, the first day it was nice enough to eat outside. I finished it wearing a flannel shirt, eating eggs and ham, drinking coffee, wondering whether it would snow today or just be cold, wet, miserable. I read it in bed, lying on my side turning the pages, each time realising that it was too late and I needed to go to sleep. I dropped it in my bag to pick up and read a few pages at a time. I read it while I made my coffee with something sitting on top to weigh down the pages when I couldn't hold it open. And as I finished it I cried for those characters and I thought about what comes from a book, whether it's just about the content or whether the act of holding a book in your hands, turning pages, making it your own can do something to you too. I like to think so.

Thursday, 18 February 2016


Today is cold but the brightness makes me want to dress for Spring. Fed up with my usual Winter clothes I dug out a coat that I bought when I was 21 on my first trip to Paris, our first visit together. We were there in January on the coldest of days and I remember the light being blue, sitting outside the Sacré-Cœur with a freezing fog over the city, going up the Eiffel Tower at night before finding somewhere to warm up. I came home with my coat from the APC sale and a vintage stripy jumper. I still have both but rarely wear either, I'm not sure why.

Along with thoughts of Spring here are a few things I've been distracting myself with lately. 

This article: 'I don’t want to constantly be working on myself, or powering through tough times with validating, feel-good platitudes. We have bad days; we feel bad about ourselves. That’s OK'.
Crisp cookies 
Cold weather cooking 
Breakfast bites and these seedy squares
This new to me brand
These glittery socks
This house (shot by Brian
And this house which I would quite like to run away to...

Friday, 12 February 2016


It's the little things. This morning I popped to a spot near work to get coffee and handed over my loyalty card to be stamped. The guy stamped the 7th spot and then just kept going from 8 - 12 before handing it back and saying my next coffee would be free. A little thing, a good thing.

This weekend there should be more good things as we're trying out a new Turkish place with friends, planning gyros, gelato and a few galleries. I hope you have good things coming your way too, here's my contribution...

Wednesday, 10 February 2016


This year started as years can, with a shocking hangover following a night of fun with friends. From there there has been a bout of tonsillitis for me, a couple of unexpectedly late nights (it's nice to know that we can still dance until 3am once in a while), gyros from a new place that made us feel like we were back in Greece and that lead to us heading home to book flights back to Greece for real. We've planned a trip to Copenhagen in the Spring and I've tried a few new recipes, roasted Brussels sprouts with salmon, cauliflower cheese baked potatoes. I went to a sewing class and started a new pottery class.

And now, after too much rain and too many dark days, the sun is shining. It may still be cold but I can take that.

And my hopes for the year? To do some sewing at home, to carry on at pottery producing wonky bowl after wonky bowl, to go to yoga and not worry too much about my lack of flexibility, to bake the occasional loaf of bread, to get outside, to have more breakfasts like this...

Thursday, 10 December 2015


Clockwise from top left: a porridge making kit - pan, syrup, bowl, stirrer, and oats; a copper coffee scoop, a Christmas mug, and festive coffee; a handmade indigo plate and a delivery of eccles cakes; an enamel tray, sourdough chocolate from a local favourite, and a new book that's had nothing but good reviews.

Wednesday, 9 December 2015


Clockwise from top left: rye crumb, milk, and sea salt chocolate , a sheepskin rug for her side of the bed,  a gold ear cuff just because, a sweet, or not so sweet, custom engraved heart necklace, a 1950s edition of a favourite book, pink wool socks and a cashmere hat, a new favourite mug and a book to read over a cup of tea because we really should all be feminists,  a marble candleholder and beeswax candles to cheer up these dark, dark nights.

Friday, 4 December 2015


Clockwise from top left: sandalwood soap, Steely Dan, Mikkeller bourbon with the best label and a tumbler to serve it in, a packable tote for weekends away, a clock to tell the time in all his favourite cities, a classic grey sweatshirt, an angular bookend and Edwin Morgan, and finally, because, well, why not - BOOBS!