On cats and Christmas and culinary delights

OMGYOUGUYS. After a skim of some of last November's MyBloWriMo content*, I have reached the conclusion that my writing has not matured at all in a year's time. 'Consistent' is not a characteristic I can usually self-ascribe, so I'm feeling mighty pleased about this.

As pleased as this kitty was about being taken for a walk. 

Today I have learned something new. Apparently there is a thing here - I like how it's taken me eight years to hear of this, I'm nothing if not observant - called "The Christmas Sandwich". According to a Very-British group chat I'm in, it can best be described as 'Christmas dinner in bread,' and is found by looking for 'any limited edition sandwich in a green, red and gold box around this time of year.' Some discussion then ensued about what and who makes a good Christmas Sandwich. There were some hotly contested leeks v cranberries in the conversation, followed by a round of applause for Pret and their vegetarian options. It all got very exciting for a good half hour. Apparently if there's one thing the Brits take seriously, it's seasonal cuisine.

So I took it upon myself this afternoon - with the guidance of my Very-British Foodie Friend Hannah - to get my first ever Christmas Sandwich. We went to M&S Food Hall - one of my favourite places in this fine country - and spent some time picking out just the right introductory product. And here we have it, youguys: the Turkey Feast. According to the box, this contains 'roast British turkey breast with pork, sage and onion stuffing, cranberry chutney, smoked British bacon and mayonnaise on malted brown bread.' BECAUSE THEY CAN.

And you thought it'd look obscene.

Here it is on the plate, looking just like a Turkey Feast masquerading as a sandwich: 

And you thought it'd look obscene.

And then I did it: I took my first, hesitant bite. AND HOLY COW. YOUGUYS. WHY DO WE EAT CHRISTMAS DINNER IN ANY OTHER FORM. This is a holiday party in my mouth! Now, to be fair, this is my first Christmas Sandwich so I have no bar to set this against, but I would rate this sandwich is a 10/10, would eat again. Hannah also pointed out that when you buy one, they give 'donations to charity' or something, so that means you can eat as many as you want and it's guilt-free. Eating these is basically SOCIAL WORK. For the sake of humanity, I will have to eat more. 

And then, because the afternoon continued to win, we ran into our friend Doreen and shared a round of tea.** Who can beat the joys of East London?? 

Not pictured: Pressure Drop Pale Chamomile

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to watch Good Wife - I mean, enjoy a fine novel - and inhale the rest of my bread-encased Christmas dinner! Happy Thursday, all!

Big hugs and lots of love,

Essss

*Which yielded NOTHING I could plagiarise 
**It's all I drink, Grampa.

BIZZY BIZZY

I gave up trying to wash six sets of bed linens using one drying rack and am now in the local laundromat watching Rihanna music videos while my sheets spin. I could go to the café next door but they call themselves a roastery and I have yet to see them use the shiny kit decorating a third of their space so EFF YOU HIPSTERS, I'll stick to my musical television and linoleum and the company of old black women with scarves tied 'round their hair. You can tell they don't put up with BS, either.

Wait. I think one of my loads is done. Hold on.

Oh yeahhhhh. Dryer 1 started. This is getting real, folks. FLYING.

And now what we're all here for: today's Cat of Japan. This noisy thing sat under a bridge like a total troll, yowling at everyone that walked past:

 We GET it, you're THERE.

The cat itself was far more interesting than the bridge. Which is saying a lot, because JAPANESE BRIDGES. 

We GET it, you're THERE.

I honestly think there isn't a single photograph that isn't improved by the presence of one of these. Take this shot from the Amalfi coast, for example. Perfectly nice, sure:

But add a Japanese bridge?

NOW you want to go there. 

Someone just came in trying to launder what appears to be an original Jackson Pollack. He claims it's like this because of his screen-printing business (#Hackney) but I think we all know better:

 Seriously, #Hackneytho.

Guess what?? I got another book to copy-edit! This one came with an entire four-page single-spaced historical note attached, so I feel pretty confident I'm going to learn something from this one. Historical fiction is the best: so much better than real history. 

I'm off to get cracking on it; see you tomorrow!

Big hugs and lots of love,

Essss

It's that time again!

OMGYOUGUYS. I can't believe it's already November. We all know what that means: 30 days of Absolute Blogging Nonsense. I hope this year's MyBloWriMo will show more lucidity than last year's, but I think we all know better. So let's lower that bar and get started!

We just got back from Japan yesterday so that seems like a natural subject to begin with but I just spent six hours today paring four thousand photos down to four fifty and now I'm a bit blind on the topic, so maybe we'll try it again tomorrow. But just to give you an idea of what we have to look forward to, here's a picture of a cat in a stroller:

He gets it.

I filled the other increments of my day trying to make a dent on the outstanding ten loads of laundry - very difficult without a dryer and limited space to hang things - and attempting to catch up on emails, which we all know is a Sisyphean struggle in the best of times. Once I finish this post, I'm going to fry something up for dinner and binge on Good Wife and likely pass out at 9, which for the sake of looking normal, I'll blame on jetlag. What a great month this is already! You can safely expect more excitement like this over the next 29 days.

Okay, one last photo before I go. This little boy's mom clearly nudged him to smile because he went from this: 

To this:

TOO MUCH. 

Big hugs and lots of love,

Essss

Want to come play at my house?

OMGYOUGUYS. So much to do today. A's brother and wife are flying in this afternoon to stay with us for a couple of days. I should be doing my last-minute frantic clean right now (for the purposes of cooing, 'Oh, this old place? Sorry for the state of it, it's normally not this messy,' the sparkle of the countertops reflected in my blinding smile), which of course is all the inspiration to blog that I need. I don't even know when their flight lands - in typical fashion, I get vague 'middays' when I query A, which could mean anything from noon - EVERYBODY PANIC! WHERE'S THE HOOVER?! - to four this afternoon (ah, plenty of time for this old blog, then). I've got lemons in a bowl and fresh flowers in a vase, so I really don't know what more one could expect.

Wait! It's stopped raining! Hold on a sec.

Ahhh, there we go. House may be a mess but back garden's just been tidied. My favourite hobby right now is sweeping all the snails off the walls and dumping them into the garden waste bag before scattering salt over the top. I make it snow with happy little flicks of the wrist, humming away like a demented angel of death, watching with satisfaction as they shrivel and foam. I just don't know how it gets any better. I used to salt them where they perched but that just led to green slime everywhere that was hard to clean up. The new Mass Grave Method is making the job a joy. 

It's scorching out. London is trying to kill me with this rainforest climate. Working on the laptop at the garden table is terrific until you start dripping onto the keyboard. Also, I think the cherry tree is spraying sap or something because every so often droplets drift through the air and everything gets vaguely sticky. Is this a thing sap does or is the tree poisoning us like in some evil-horticulture thriller? Someone who knows how nature works tell me in case I need to be out here in a hazmat suit. 

I've got to leave in a few minutes - for an actual MEETING, with HUMANS! I really am not equipped for this job, with so much persons, so many opportunity for awkward - but before I go, look how sweet our little garden is! How many walls for snails to scale! 

Not pictured: Mass Grave

I hope your day is going well!

Big hugs and lots of love,

Essss

On Print Swaps, and How I'm Pretty Sure I Got the Best One

GUYS.GUYS.GUYS.

So a few weeks ago I signed up for Dianne Tanner's Print Swap because it had all the elements one could possibly ask for in a creative project: the involvement of others, a push to produce, and - most exciting - the CHANCE TO GET MAIL. What's not to like??

So fast forward to last week, when the world's most beautifully-wrapped package comes clattering through my mail slot. YOUGUYS.

It was not just a print, oh no. It was a work of ART. Several works of art. There was a COLLAGE. There was a hand-painted and -bound BOOK that had words of JOY and ENCOURAGEMENT. There was even candy and hot chocolate! I can't even believe it. (Apologies now to the girl whose name I drew. She's going to be like, 'Thanks for the photograph, jerk.') And even though I don't personally know the artist, Helen Jones, I can say this with complete confidence: SHE IS WONDERFUL HUMAN.

 JUST LOOK AT ALL THIS. And when you expand the black square on the lower left, it turns into THIS:

I KNOW. A truly stunning mixed-media work of art. The paint on these pages gives them such a gorgeous texture that I can't stop running my fingers across them. And the vibrancy of the color is incredible. And don't get me started on the words themselves: 'Find what makes you different then live a lifetime of it', 'applaud imperfections.' The phrase 'raptures of delight' doesn't even come close to how I felt as this expanded in my hands. 

It all sits with pride now in the front room and I tell everyone I made it. 

If youguys want to stalk Helen with me, you won't regret it. Here's her writing, her photography, and her etsy page (in case you want to buy something she's created to pass off as your own. I highly recommend it.) 

Helen, I can't thank you enough for this. 

Big hugs and lots of love,

Esss