To celebrate the release of my two ever-so-shiny book I’m releasing this free Blinkin’ Bookworm pattern into the wild just for you.
Knit him up and leave him somewhere bookish, whether its on your own bookshelf, munching through manuscripts at your local library or nibbling novels at your favourite book shop.
Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarn! Me hearties! The notorious Captain Cat-Battler is a veteran of cat vs mouse conflict. Since the dawn of time, rodents and their feline foe have pitted their wits against one another. Captain Cat-Battler is a handmade hero of mousekind, keeping the cats of the world on their furry toes with his cunning and his […]
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 […]
Ghorepani (2870m) to Poon Hill (3210m) to Sikha (1935m) – Trek Day Three: “Are we nearly there yet?”
It is 4.30am. It is very, very dark. It is very, very, very cold. What in the hell am I doing climbing 340 metres of perilous rock stairs with only a headtorch for light?
I worry that I am slowing everyone down, and we’ll all get eaten by Nepali mountain forest wolves before we reach civilisation.
It is clear to me that the waiter has the power to freeze water at will, and that sometimes, maybe when he has spilled birayani down a customer who would have been a big tipper, or a cow gouged at him on the way to work because he looked at it funny, he loses control of his power and ends up showing it to us mere mortals in the form of sudden soft drink freezing.