Casting Nasturtiums.
A couple of Christmases ago, I was given, together with a table cloth needed for the big meal, a set of cotton napkins.
I hadn't really considered myself a napkin kind of person. So I was as surprised as anyone else to discover I was. I have used a napkin at every meal at home ever since.
In the autumn, I acquired a small jug. Handy, I thought, for pouring water, just a drop, into cask-strength whisky.
And I do use it for this.
But, more shocking than the napkin discovery, was that I am also someone who uses the jug for the purpose it was designed.
I have become someone who uses a milk jug.
I would have laughed at people who use a milk jug. The height of middle class pretension. Twee. Not me.
How wrong I was! Beside my napkin st breakfast, I place my small jug with milk. Irritatingly, always a little more milk than I need for my two-and-a-half cups of coffee. (That's a cafetiere to you.)
How low could I go? How much further to fall?
I think this might be the limit.
I am someone who has flowers in their salad.
The pack of salad of salad I bought to have with my lunch contained, unbeknownst to me, at least two types of flowers as well as lettuce, rocket and assorted other leaves.
I could identify Nasturtium petals, bright orange. They were surprisingly tasty - slightly peppery.
But the disgrace! I am now someone who has flowers in their salad!
(This is very different than my former student party trick. Which involved eating flowers. Being a botanist and all. Maybe you had to be there. And be very drunk, too. That was an integral part of the experience.)
I hadn't really considered myself a napkin kind of person. So I was as surprised as anyone else to discover I was. I have used a napkin at every meal at home ever since.
In the autumn, I acquired a small jug. Handy, I thought, for pouring water, just a drop, into cask-strength whisky.
And I do use it for this.
But, more shocking than the napkin discovery, was that I am also someone who uses the jug for the purpose it was designed.
I have become someone who uses a milk jug.
I would have laughed at people who use a milk jug. The height of middle class pretension. Twee. Not me.
How wrong I was! Beside my napkin st breakfast, I place my small jug with milk. Irritatingly, always a little more milk than I need for my two-and-a-half cups of coffee. (That's a cafetiere to you.)
How low could I go? How much further to fall?
I think this might be the limit.
I am someone who has flowers in their salad.
The pack of salad of salad I bought to have with my lunch contained, unbeknownst to me, at least two types of flowers as well as lettuce, rocket and assorted other leaves.
I could identify Nasturtium petals, bright orange. They were surprisingly tasty - slightly peppery.
But the disgrace! I am now someone who has flowers in their salad!
(This is very different than my former student party trick. Which involved eating flowers. Being a botanist and all. Maybe you had to be there. And be very drunk, too. That was an integral part of the experience.)