Your video xmas pressie

Quite simply the best Christmas carol ever. My Brit pals will be sick to the teeth of it by now, but many of my US of A compadres may only have a passing acquaintance with it. You can watch the high quality version if you like, too – just be sure to click that option once you get to YouPube.

Not that I'm so cynical about the holidays. It's my birthday tomorrow - 37, nosy rosies - and I'm quite looking forward to it, as Dan is even now putting the finishing touches on my (deep breath) toffee-macadamia-nut-vanilla cheesecake he baked all by hisself. No lie. Pics tomorrow or thereabouts.

Joyeux Noël, dollinks!

I'm in the New York Times!

Well, I'm quoted in this article, anyway. Right in the beginning, too. Shame they thought I was a guy, based on my name, but still. Thanks to my pal Alicia for the heads-up, b/c I didn't know my email response would be quoted, and I was in Austria on the company weekend holiday when the story was published last Friday.

Shoo, already. Go see!

Go on, make me feel good. I dare you.

Sunday lunch...

...with Dan.
My weekend reading and knitting chair with ubiquitous cardigan.

Gorgeous chilies and food-grade rose petals...

...whizzed up into harissa (rose and regular batches).

The Teddington Library garden around the corner from work...

...where I can hide during lunch, b/c almost no-one from work bothers with the little liberry.

Coffee on the balcony our first morning in Lisbon, at our fab little hotel, Costta Rooms.

Finding a giant passionflower vine on a walk back from Richmond, and wondering if they really always grow as well here as they do in New Orleans. Then, later, spying one on a run near the river, and feeling reassured it's not a fluke thanks to some fantastic gardener.

Amazing brekky from a weekend a while back.

Yep. that all makes me feel better.

Hello sunshine

Just a reminder on a grey day of how the light in London can look when it wants to.

Marble Hill Park often makes me stop mid-jog and dig my cameraphone out of its cosy little arm-pocket...

Upmarket Bliss

Above is my favourite result of a glorious trawl through the Sunday Upmarket and various Brick Lane-area shops two weeks ago. This little number came from The Lazy Ones, and I see from their blog that I lucked into their one-off sample sale (my frock was only £20, about 60% off, woo-hoo!). The material is a sort of crepe...I love the big buttons and grey lace detail.

But before that, we oohed and ahhed over Dan Hillier's altered engravings and came periously close to buying a small woodblock featuring this image, Lovers:

We decided to wait. But we shouldn't wait too long, it's all limited ed. Another close call was a £40 cloche with clever folds in pretty blue-grey felt. (No pic to be found, sadly.) Then there was the world's priciest cat t-shirt, which I always fondle, then drop in disgust at the price. I mean, it's a cool graphic, but really, £25 for a flimsy tee? (I guess I top out at about £17. Maybe it's the dollar-conversion that gets to me.) Still, may give in sometime b/c it always makes me laugh.


One thing we didn't hold back on was the excellent vittles to be had at the market! I think the veg pattie below is the best market food I've ever had, and that's saying sumpin'. The main bulk of the pattie was shredded cabbage, with some juicy sweetcorn kernels thrown in. I don't know what the cheese was, but it was very mild and soft. The seaweed flakes entered into some kind of foodie chemical reaction with the yummilicious mayo to give it all a smoky, silky taste. That half-eaten parcel upper left is the other offering from same stall, a sort of sesame rice cake that was very sticky and not terribly tasty - just a hint of sesame going on - but good filler.

You can kind of see the pattie ingredients and a hardworking prep guy below. I would beeline for this stall next time too, it's a welcome alternative to all the wraps and pastry-packaged stuff that dominates the scene. (I love me some oh-so-tasty pastry, but I try to limit wheat intake b/c more than, say, a bagel's worth a day and I get a tight, poky tummy for hours. No fun.)

Saying that, I think Dan chose a very decent plate as well, from the Rainforest Salad operation next to the stall of Japanese vegetarian delights. The orangey couscous was v spicy and interesting - my fork kept travelling over that way...

Could not resist a passionfruit panna cotta from a Brazilian stall...tangy, soothing and refreshing.


The day was gloriously sunny, Dan scored a parking spot just a block from the market (unheard of), and I only wish we'd mobilised a little sooner in the day to take in more of it all.

Button Bright

Vintage buttons sewn onto old cards. If ever there was something that makes me itch to part with my hard-earned cash...at least I restricted myself to these, because at one point I had £40 worth in my hands! Twee local shop Parici is responsible.

The black concave discs on either end are competing for the honour of fastening my current project, the Buttony jumper/cardi (thanx to Kittee for the knitalong idea). Those delicate moonstoney ones have the slightest whisper of a ridge to them and a striated pearliness I couldn't quite capture. The remaining black buttons brought gothic, cobwebby shawls to mind.

I hate to put them away...

PS: Does Button Bright ring a bell? Think Oz books...

A Hint from Heloise: Smoothy ribbons

Okay. So you need to wrap a fancy gift, and, being the savvy collector of gift-wrap fixings that you are, you confidently plunder your stash instead of running out to the store. (Stick with me, this is based on a true story.)

You're especially certain you have a nice silky ribbon to give your offering that special sumpin' sumpin'. But what's this? All your long, silky, perfectly appropriate ribbons are wrinkly (and obviously being re-used since the deepest wrinkles are located at strategic tying points).

Now. You have no time to run out to aforementioned store. (It's closed, anyway.) You either use what you have, or go without. But you can't go without. Your reputation is at stake. People know you do nice wrapping. And this is a wedding gift. You gotta have the bow!

That's when you spy with your little eye...the perfect tool.

Who among us does not have, deep down in the back of a bathroom closet if not right at hand, a straightening or curling iron? You all but do a little dance of joy and inspiration, complete with handclaps.

You'd briefly considered ironing the ribbon, but the thought of dragging out the icky-foam ironing board and sputtering domestic appliance gave you the willies. But the hair iron! Oh baby. How easy is that?

You put it on the lowest setting. You figure, if it burns the ribbon, no matter - you were about to go without, anyway. You press down and slide it through...then again...maybe once more...

And voila! A silky-smoothy ribbon is reborn. Sling it on, sista, and hold your head up high: a crisis of gift-givin' etiquette has been narrowly averted. Til next time...

PS: Remember the smoo?