Still in London. It seems that despite all my best intentions to get in, get out, and get back on the road, I am going to be in London for a bit longer than I planned. The apes, the tigers, the Great Wall, and Grand Canyon will have to wait a bit longer. So despite […]
Who can resist the smell of frying bacon wafting up the stairs and into your sleep on a sunday morning? Well, probably not me. I have to say, however, that I ever since meeting Pickles the tiny porker back in January I’ve felt a little guilty for snacking on the flesh of her sweet and […]
Yesterday morning I was art. It was all the fault of Mr Antony Gormley, whose cast-iron sculptures scared the bejesus out of half of London in 2007 by peering down from South Bank rooftops like rusty angels of death.
Guerilla knitting. Street art that sings the same yarn-flavoured tune I do. Always had vague fluffy plans of releasing my knits into the city I am in all kinds of love with. Always admired those who have done it before me. Never really dreamed I would be standing nervously in the shadow of St Paul’s […]
Her name was Pickles. She was a week-old piglet. A piglet with a problem. Pickles needed to be woolly. A tall order for a small pig. And that was where I came in. The lovely people at Wildside contacted me through S&B London for a little bit of pig-warming help. Wildside are a London-based family-run […]