they sailed away for a year and a day

The weather the weather the weather how the Irish love to harp on and on about it. So lets harp and marvel at how strangely fantastic it has been these past few days. Today was all blue skies, well really there was only the one sky but it was all blue, and we got sandwiches and olives and coffee and sat by the river for a picnic.

Mid-afternoon we had to go indoors as we had arranged a surprise sober birthday pottery painting party for Ellen. Which was rather hilarious sitting at a newspaper-covered table being shown what to do and then asked if we were okay to be left unsupervised. Sometimes being old has its funny side.

Ellen carried on the theme of birds from our last salt-clay session, actually I have more photos of that somewhere, and Elspeth did a pot of hearts for her house in Leeds and mine told the story of an Elephant going to the palace.

The day ended with a cussing of the sunshine whose praises I had been singing not long before as it had only gone and burned me a nice shade of lobster and even the maximus-stressimus Jenny had a good laugh at me, which reminded me of all the years in the college library looking out enviously at people enjoying the annual pre-exam summer weather while my pale pasty nose saw nothing more than the book in front of it. But now that I look like Rudolph, I'm not so sure which is the better of two evils...

the functional wardrobe.

I don't think I've set out on a purposeful shoe-shopping expedition since the age of fifteen or whenever it was Mum took me to buy my last pair of sensible school uniform shoes, because really with having disposable income of my own shopping is more of a "I see it. I want it. I buy it" sort of activity. Except for when it comes to purchasing certain items that can only be found in certain places. Like new trainers for running that can only be found in sports shops located far far away on the other side of the city and require an immense effort to find the time to cycle the whole way there. I suppose I could have run there and left my smell old things in the bin and run home in my new speedy boots but no I couldn't do that because I somehow don't fancy the idea of exhibiting signs of athleticism in such place where I would feel very vulnerable to the scrutiny and judgement of staff or other shopping sportspeople. Anyway these are my funky new trainers which are literally and figuratively putting a spring in my step, because aside from propelling me forward they are a source of new-found energy coming from my delight at their colours and also how they match up with my favourite jumper to wear when I'm running which I bought in Beacon's Closet in Williamsburg and makes me happy to this day. Like this song. Or running while listening to this song. Or listening to this song.

S U N S H I N E

Ronan Keating, genius that he is, once said that "life is a rollercoaster" and too true were his words. Today my day was simultaneously the best and the worst day ever. Terrible night's sleep full of nightmares and a 7.30am start at work where the coffee machine was broken and two people called in sick and the till froze and the hot water machine flooded every where but then it was okay cos a man came to fix the coffee machine but that was short lived cos when he left the steamers stopped working and then the till was good again but the credit card machine went on the blink and then it was all okay cos it was LUNCHTIME and I escaped outside into the SUNSHINE for a carefree twenty five minutes before having to back inside to the chaos of hungry people getting impatient at waiting too long for their food and angry hungry people getting angry at having had their orders mixed up and then it was all okay again cos it was HOMETIME and I escaped outside into the SUNSHINE but then I had to go to the bank with the lodgement and queue for ages and then when I finally got back outside I was harassed by a swarm of charity muggers despite my greatest efforts at avoiding eye contact but then I remembered I was in the SUNSHINE and it was all good again. Until I walked past a man holding a piece of cardboard saying "I'm hungry, please help" and I felt really sad so I went back to my shop and put a scone and an apple and orange and bottle of water in a paper bag and brought it to him and then I felt happy that I had helped but wondered if he was hungry or just wanted money and was secretly angry at me but when I got on my bike and started cycling in the SUNSHINE I forgot about everything apart from the summertime feeling. And when I got home I got a big surprise as the coat I won (yes, I won the auction, congratulations I'm now hooked to online betting) on ebay had arrived and it's exactly right and the perfect fit and I love it and I wore it around the garden for a few minutes watching dad paint a bench then I was too hot so I took it off and went for a run and passed the beach where the world and his wife were out enjoying the SUNSHINE and after a quick shower I headed over to Ellen's to varnish our ceramics and we ate sushi and pringles and tasted the SUNSHINE on our shoulders. What a happy ending to a tale with a terrible start.

dancing at the disco

I was beginning to worry I had forgotten how to dress myself or what my style really was as I feel I've spent the past few months either in a smelly uniform or hiding huddled inside a North Face fleece and ignoring all my lovely clothes sitting patiently in my wardrobe, when along came friend Ellen to save the day. She bought me a present in a bag with a crazy pattern containing a one euro, shapeless, crazy-patterned, charity shop top. I love when somebody sees something and can say "that is very so-and-so's style" , the importance of which seems to get a little lost in this high-street shopping sort of world of ours. And so I love this top and love that nobody else has it and love that it looks like me. And I love that one needs but the smallest of excuses (such as celebrating one's happiness at having a new top) to go out and get really drunk. I also love friend Ellen's dad who cooked us the most wonderful hangover food - fried sprats. Creepy to look at but so incredibly delicious. Honest.

clever little kitty cat

Someday is the eighth, and by far the best, day of the week! And I've been saying for so long that some day I would start selling things on Etsy... Now the elusive Someday has finally appeared on the calendar as a lovely Spring day. Find my brooches in the "zaranugent" shop on www.etsy.com.

if a clod be washed away by the sea

the butcher the baker the candlestick maker

A birthday simply isn't a birthday without a birthday cake and mummy's turning into her 63rd year meant I set about baking what was not so average a recipe but a melange of fig and walnut goodness. And to get in her extra-good books I bought her flowers (what a romantic ) and cooked dinner, roasting the most enormous squash I've ever seen in a supermarket.

Greens, beans and five a day.

What better way to spend a day than baking a cake and hosting a tea party? Carrot cake has always been among my top favourites until today when it was rather unceremoniously shoved off its pedestal and replaced by the newfound Courgette Cake. Yum yum yum. I got the recipe from the Edinburgh Eats blog: here who transcribed it from the cookbook of the Hummingbird Bakery. The recipe was nothing overtly special, but the end product was simply spectacular.

In the morning of the same day I received a snail mail letter sent all the way from South Korea. I was appropriately surprised by the contents within, but it's not as creepy as it looks. Honestly! Look past the naked baby part and it's a TOMATO! Tattoo-ed with a message across his back "to my vegetable loving friend" Aawww, she knows me so well! Love love x