a very cool blog

Not that we have can­dles burn­ing in the hydrangea tree at all times of the year (OK, only on Christ­mas Eve if you have to know, buzz kill), but I am think­ing of John at Red Gate Farm today and am feel­ing nos­tal­gic. He emailed late last night to report that the stream is near­ly flood­ed from the tor­ren­tial East Coast rains yes­ter­day and that every­thing is peace­ful and love­ly there. Sigh. I bet it is.

Now then. I have bare­ly ever read any­one else’s blog, because please remem­ber that I am extreme­ly self-cen­tered. How­ev­er, in my recent quest to get more read­ers, I googled some blogs, about Lon­don, about food, I think that’s as far as I got. Most­ly because I got side­tracked by one extreme­ly well-writ­ten blog about being a mum (or rather a per­son who is a mum) in Lon­don, “Lar­a­land.” She has kind­ly post­ed about my blog, so I shall return the favor. If you do noth­ing else today, go on her blog and click “pho­tos”, then click “May.” I’m not pro­vid­ing a hot link here because I think you will enjoy going to the whole blog. But that one pho­to is worth the whole price of admis­sion (bear with me, it’s free, but you know what I mean). Her pho­tographs make me sick with envy, but then a per­son who posts a pic­ture of her cam­era prob­a­bly has more invest­ed in her pho­to­graph­ic skill than I have I, who has none. She men­tions, so I will too, that it is fun­ny to think of our pass­ing each oth­er in the Wait­rose in the high street, or sip­ping cof­fee next to each oth­er at Patis­serie Valerie. It is a very small town, after all.

I can’t dil­ly-dal­ly anoth­er minute. Got to go slave away at the Michael­mas Fair. See you later.