As is the tradition each Christmas, Kirsty went into overdrive with the Christmas party bake off. We had starry cookies, starry cupcakes (chocolate orange, and white chocolate and cranberry flavours), angel cookies, cheese and mustard twistys and litres of mulled wine. We love a good old tradition, and the party was full of them: we had lusty carol singing, the classic After 8 chocolate ‘melt in your face’ race, and the roaring fire in the yard (with chestnuts roasting) tended to by the elf in command. Long may the traditions continue…Merry Christmas!
Today started well when Kirsty received her leaving present from work – a wonderfully packaged gooseberry bush from the delightfully named company – ‘The Gluttonous Gardener’. It arrived with it’s own naming plaque (we’ve called it ‘Ebenezer’ – Eezer Goode, Eezer Goode, He’s Ebeneezer Goode). There was some debate whether we were wasting a good name on a plant that could be used for a future child (I managed to talk Kirsty round by saying it didn’t necessarily mean we couldn’t also use the same name for offspring – hmmm? not so sure on that one!).
I got straight to work in finding a new home for Ebenezer, and after finding a suitable oil can, Kirsty said it was time I opened the compost bin door. It’s been about 2 years since we started composting, and today was the moment of truth, where we would find out if it was working…and as if by magic, we had fresh sweet black compost for free:

Mmmmm, what a beautiful sight! With a couple of spade fulls of compost mixed with soil Ebenezer was home:
To celebrate the occasion we went out to one of our favourite local coffee shops: Lassco Brunswick Square on Vauxhall roundabout. As well as having a great cafe area, Lassco has some magical ‘antiques, salvages and curiosities’ in their possession, which they decorated with some christmas bling:

Over a hot cup of freshly brewed rooibos, I was treated to some true christmas magic, when Kirsty finished reading ‘A Little Princess’ by Frances Hodgson Burnett. I warn all readers – this book will make you cry…this is an example of its charm:
‘If nature has made you a giver, your hands are born open and so is your heart. And though there be many times when your hands are empty, your heart is always full and you can give things out of that.’
Heart warming indeed…
Merry Christmas Magic Everyone!
Around this time each year I begin to get a little more animated as the days get shorter and that ‘most wonderful time of the year’ draws close. I see my green and red elf suit neatly folded from last year, and I know things are about to get busy. Top of my wishlist for this year was a new hat and shoes, and with privileged access to Santa, Christmas came early and I struck lucky. As a trainee elf, I’ve been working extra hard this year to get my Elf badge- I’m dreaming about one day being singled out for the Head Elf badge.
So here it is, unveiled for the very first time, a day in the life of a Christmas elf (to help shed some light on what us elf folk get up to, and to help the plight of elves the world over). An elf must take seriously the duty of keeping the Christmas countdown for all the neighbourhood.
This morning I was up early to catch the traders at Covent Garden Flower Market- it’s a busy time shifting trees and they need all the help they can get. While I was there, I picked up a tree to take back to the homestead. The miserable man-folk wouldn’t even give me an elf discount.
Back home I rode on my outsize reindeer.
It would seem the tree I picked is wider than it is tall. This could loose me points for getting my elf badge.
I stopped to rescue a little bird who had made its nest in the tree, and who was now somewhat surprised to be in our living room (10 Elf points).
Time was ticking on by, and I had Christmas orders to see to.

A celebratory hop skip and a jump as I reached Santa’s daily target of 10,000 Christmas present orders (50 elf points).
All this hard work makes an elf tired. Time to retire to my bed under the tree. Christmas is coming. 14 DAYS TO GO.
“In some ways my darling, eating with you is like eating at the zoo”.
This was kirsty’s reflection on a pleasant pub lunch we recently enjoyed together. Have I let my table manners slide into oblivion I wonder, or is this a case of kirsty’s over reaction? Admittedly I had just devoured a plate of ribs with my bare hands, used our glass of water as a finger bowl and then proceeded to drink it, before offering kirsty the rest of it. Alas on reflection I don’t think I am setting the best example for future generations.
But those ribs were tasty.
To kick start Kirsty’s 30th birthday I’d planned a few surprises. The great thing about surprises is that I get to enjoy them as well.

Kirsty regularly gets nicknamed Mrs Beeton, so it seemed fitting to take her to the new Gilbert Scott restaurant in the magnificently renovated Renaissance Hotel at Kings Cross. It serves up a traditional British menu, with several quirky and tasty takes on the Beeton cookbook. The meal was almost spoiled when Kirsty spotted a snail and chicken pie on the menu. Luckily, there were other options available, which played less to her muluscophobia.
We had the Beeton spiced spatch cocked chicken with bubble and squeak, and the halibut with jerusalem artichokes and scotch bonnet mushrooms. Marvellous! The best dish was the dessert: ginger bread pudding with pear ice cream and toffee sauce with a little birthday message from the chef (see top picture).
Back home, while Kirsty was indoors preparing for the party, I was outdoors lighting the fire and getting the next surprise ready. I think what followed surprised us all, myself included. What had been described us a pet and family friendly firework display, turned into a squealing, screeching, spark flying monster that lasted about 2 minutes and had us terrified. We were very pleased that the ghetto garden and the car was still intact.
We also had some brilliant fashion faux pas (F. F. P.) surprises at the party, including Joe dressed in his finest shell suite, Ben’s metallic high shine jeans, Kirsty’s tangerine face, Camilla’s pink ski pants, Rosie’s curtain dress, and my embroidered tank top. Also, where would F. F. P.’s be without a nod to the 80′s.



Here’s to surprises and F. F. P.’s!
It’s been a long time coming (20 years in all) but here it is at last – my planet tale – a book I’ve been working on since primary school about all the planets being friends.
I’m sorry I haven’t been blogging so much recently – that’s because I’ve been obsessed about finishing this book off (to Kirsty’s distress – including late night discussions on where the plot should go, and how it was best illustrated). I became like a small child when Kirsty bought me some crayons, and I set about working on the illustrations. The latent artist in me came bursting forth, as can clearly be seen!
You can now buy the children’s book online, in paper back, hard back or even as an ebook for ipad/iphone! Find it at:
at http://www.blurb.com/bookstore/detail/2645270
What’s it all about? Well below is the synopsis, which I hope wets your appetite:
Have you ever looked up at the sky at night and wondered what really happens among the stars, beyond where eyes can see?
This tale of adventure, friendship and dashing courage will introduce you to some of the secrets of the solar system…
The Planets go on a galactic mission to rescue their friend Pluto who is in grave danger. Journey with the Wanderers in the Sky, and find out what happens on their exciting escapade.
The other week we purchased our first ever rose (we got it half price from a garden centre in Hampstead, recommended by our friends Kate and Simon – bonus!). As soon as we brought it back to Stockwell, we welcomed it into it’s new home – a shiny blue oil can – marvellous:
I’ve been very much enjoying our little garden, and the magical surprises that accompany it. Even this morning Kirsty got me to sit outside in the garden, and proceeded to cut my hair (for all the neighbours to see) in the new pop-up hair salon. Here’s me before:
…and after (I apologise for my crazed looks – maybe it’s because I’ve just been woken up):
Having had my surprise haircut, we ventured off to see a fantastic secret garden at the Serpentine in Hyde Park. It is called ‘hortus conclusus’ – the enclosed garden, and is very impressive. The outside looks quite dark and imposing, but once you get in, you find yourself in a beautiful ‘garden within a garden’. The creator Peter Zumthor wrote that ‘everytime I imagine a garden…it turns into a magical place…sheltered places of great intimacy where I want to stay for a long time‘. This is what I think of our ghetto garden.
While we were walking in what Peter Zumthor calls this ‘most intimate landscape’, Kirsty leaned in to give me a kiss. She then paused to say ‘mm it’s rather unfortunate I’ve gone off your smell’. I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but replied ‘I’ll get a new aftershave or shower gel then’. Thinking that was a great solution to the problem, kirsty went on to explain ‘no, it’s not that, it’s your skin’. This followed an incident earlier in the week where kirsty woke me up in the middle of the night and got me to brush my teeth because my breath smelled. Kirsty has told me whilst writing this, that she didn’t have the heart to inform me that it didn’t make a difference. Let’s hope that kirsty’s heightened sense of smell diminishes soon!
Good news just in:
I’ve just had the smell test and we can confirm that it is only my face that smells. This is difficult to hide but I am optimistic that at least it’s a smaller area to work on.
For more on the enclosed garden see links below:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2011/aug/07/gardens-dan-pearson-serpentine-pavilion
http://www.serpentinegallery.org/2011/04/serpentine_gallery_pavillion_2011_zumthor.html
ps I love the poem ‘Solitude’ by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, but I’d like to insert 2 words:
‘laugh [at yourself] and the world laughs with you’
Well, it’s been a bumper blogging weekend. Kirsty’s just rustled up some home made bagels – amazing! She reflected that baking is beneficial on so many levels – including ‘occuping me sufficiently so I don’t get bored when Bruce blogs’. And also I get to eat lots of tasty treats – suits me well! Here’s a photo diary of the bagels taking shape:
Music. Food. Gardens. Amazing on their own, but even better together – and yesterday GardenFest had it all! It was a festival with ‘big country music in a small city garden’, and had everything a great festival needs: we had amazing bands, Ruth’s delicious pulled pork, mirror balls, a little shower of rain followed by a rainbow, hula hooping singers, a chill out garden next door, and lots of dancing! Well done Emma and everyone who was involved, for a brilliant day…
Below you can see ‘Oh!Gunquit’ singing whilst hula hooping on the edge of the wall:

Throughout the festival we had an interesting array of song subjects, including ‘the fish are runnning out’, Johnny the Facebook Killer’ and the ‘milks gone bad’ – proving that even the banal things in life can be turned into great songs!
The band below were called ‘The Geese’ and had flown all the way from Canada. I chatted to one of their ‘Geese community’ members as I waited in the longest queue for the toilet and asked how they came up with the name. She explained that when Geese fly in formation they take it in turns to change the leader who flies at the front. In the same way, each band member write their own songs and take it in turns to lead all of them at gigs – amazing!
You know when you’ve gone to a good festival when you’re still wearing the official wristband when you wake up the next morning:
This morning we set out to buy an anonymous, white replacement toilet seat… and this is what we came back with – a vivid aqua coloured toilet seat:
…a brightly coloured sun parasol:
…a gooseberry bush and a raspberry plant:
… and £6 of bargain bowl fruit, which was turned into smoothies (using yoghurt, milk, peaches, mango, strawberries and a little sugar):





































