For the better part of four decades, I’ve put my thoughts in many different places. Some of these thoughts have thankfully disappeared into the ether and some of them are rotting away in digital graveyards like Facebook and twitter. As the internet becomes more of an inhospitable place, I’ve been keen to keep my thoughts all in one place, on a platform I have as much control over as possible. I’ll still probably share on instagram and I may fire off the odd post on bluesky, but I’m going to compile them all here, too. Not because I think they’re worthy of preservation, but just so I don’t feel so digitally schizophrenic, so I don’t accidentally lose my thoughts when an account closes or a new billionaire buys up a platform, so my thoughts won’t get buried by an algorithm because I didn’t share it with a 30 second clip of a song that I’ve never heard all the way through.
Sometimes these thoughts will be accompanied by photos. Sometimes they will be long and sometimes short. Often times they will be very stupid. I have tagged the thoughts using a system that makes sense to me and ultimately I am unconcerned as to whether or not it makes sense to you, but I think it’s pretty self-explanatory. For now, there is an option to comment on my thoughts, though I will not allow anything I deem annoying or unkind to remain published. It’s my party, I can do what I want.
on a weekend (in bath)
When did cars become such tasteful colours? What is behind the shift from highly-saturated paint options to these soft sage greens, dusty blues, cinnamon oranges and persimmon reds? The new white and grey cars almost shimmer like champagne. I would love a long-read article about this.
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David forgot his phone at home. He also didn’t bring his wallet because he never brings his wallet anywhere anymore. In the end, this proved to not be too big of a problem, thank goodness, but it brought into stark focus how impossible it is to get into your email, hotel booking apps, and car parking and charging accounts from a different device now that 2-factor is embedded into everything. When everything works, sure, technology can be great. But when something doesn’t work, it’s a real pain in the ass and I seriously consider going full analogue.
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Speaking of not working, why why why is the O2 mobile service in Bath nonexistent? What do you mean I’m in the centre of the city and can’t use my phone unless I’m on Wifi?? I’ve had cell service in the middle of South Dakota, so how is it possible that Bath, a city of roughly 95,000 people, is a dead zone for one of this country’s three (only three!) mobile service providers?!
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Okay great, now I’m obsessed with Ofcom’s mobile coverage checker map.
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Speaking of maps, Bath is one of those cities that really turns me around. We have just walked away from our hotel, zig-zagging down cute shopping streets, and wound up… back at the hotel. We have done a big loop. As someone who generally has a pretty good sense of direction, I feel like my internal orienteering arrow is spinning round-and-round in this town and I really have no idea where I might be unless I’m literally right next to the river.
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There are a lot more people having a big night out on the town than I would have thought. Isn’t Bath supposed to just be Jane Austen hen dos and bookish students arguing about Russian literature in pubs? Why did I just walk over sick and see a drunk man fall off a bench (yes, it was quite funny).
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Just remembered while filling my water bottle at the hotel that our old gym had sparkling water on tap and ugh, god, it’s so annoying how enticing that is.
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Restaurants & Bars that we went to and would go to again, Bath edition:
Solina for pasta and light-as-air tiramisu, but get yourself on the waitlist quick because they don’t do reservations.
The Dark Horse which is a real proper bar with a unique lived-in vibe. Someone told me that holding the claw of the wooden eagle that sits on the bar will bring good luck (tbd). Oh, and they have Fernet!
Brac has a great spot along the river in a quiet residential neighbourhood. Their focaccia was incred and it was the perfect plate-fellow for their eggs in purgatory, which I ate with gusto in a beam of beautiful crisp sunlight. Quite a few chic older people reading the Sunday papers with their coffee and lots of parents with young children. Real wholesome.
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We stopped in Swindon to charge our car on the way home and learned that the National Trust head office is right next to an enormous outlet mall. (Doesn’t feel right, that.) The building, Heelis, is a striking grey architechty kind of building, the type of building that is often next to something like a native wetland or a prairie, all very tasteful and important and sustainable. But instead of a wetland, Heelis is next to a glossy energy-hungry eye-sore that encourages over-consumption under the guise of getting a deal (one teen walking out behind us bragged to her friend that she “just bought EIGHT new perfumes, it was mad”). Now, because I’m in the car and bored I wanted to look up who was there first, and I was shocked to learn that the outlet mall (pre it’s 2015 refurb) pre-dates Heelis by almost ten years. Which begs the question: why did the National Trust, one of our most buildingest of building organisations, decide to build their “innovative and sustainable” HQ that they describe as “an architectural gem” right next to this (I’m sorry) monstrosity? I really want to know.
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Whilst I’m over here asking important questions: why is the EV car charging infrastructure in this country still so garbage??
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Bought a 3 litre Kilner fermenting jar from the horrible outlet mall while waiting on the car to charge. Now we can ferment kimchi and sauerkraut at the same time.
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Sometimes it’s nice to listening to a sporting event in the radio and remembering that your imagination is actually such a powerful thing. Like omg why am I crying with relief listening to the end of this rugby match??
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Going away for the weekend 👍👍👍
Coming home and none of your usual weekend chores are done 👎👎👎👎
all. this. stuff.
Who is buying all this stuff?*
Linen bedding sets that are, for some reason, £300+.
Sparkling water machines.
£500 coats (every coat made of natural fibre is somehow £500 now?) and £500 boots to stomp around town in - vegan leather!
Specialist face creams, electronic firming devices, designer perfumes. Are you on the waitlist for the next drop?
Who is buying all of this?
At-home pilates reformers with matching accessories in muted pastels.
Morning green powder, coffee with collagen, breakfast vitamins, exercise proteins, and nigh-time magnesium, available in both a powder and a cream! Subscribe and save!! Pause anytime!!!
Hair masks, sheet masks, red light masks (and don’t forget to upgrade to include the neck treatment, too).
Botox, filler, filler dissolvent.
Veneers, deep-plane face-lifts, maintenance tweaks, and the time off work to heal.
Who has not only the money, but the time for all this?!
The new iPhone with a new case, isn’t that cute? AI will answer your emails for you! Blue light glasses. A pop socket. An app that tells you when you’ve had too much screen time.
Stainless steel pots, Hexclad pans, multi-burner griddles, all of which are everyday kitchen essentials that will last a lifetime.
A cashmere blanket scarf that doubles as a throw, perfect for international flights in business class. (Business class!!)
The beverage fridge, the skincare fridge, the claustrophobic little cylindric wine cellar you drill into your kitchen floor and talk about ad nauseam at parties. (We get it, Dave, your favourite holiday is Beaujolais Nouveau Day.)
WHO IS BUYING ALL THIS?!? (And I’m not even going to mention the firehouse of junk out there that’s marketed to men and children.)
I recently read that in the US the top 10% of earners are responsible for almost half of all consumer spending. Another shocking stat is that almost 1% of America’s entire GDP is put on American Express Delta Rewards credit cards**. Are we living in a simulation?! How does any of this alleged spending - and I am being so serious - make any sense? WHO IS BUYING ALL THIS STUFF??? How many luxury high-rises, exclusive spas, five-star hotels, Michelin-starred restaurants, and designer boutiques can we sustain when 55% of the UK is worried about how they will afford heating their homes in winter***??
This week, we got news that a local mental health charity that our WI supports is closing due to a lack of funding and I’m so fucking furious about it. Our community resources are being stripped away with only a few crisis support organisations still limping along, trying to catch anyone who slips through the gaping holes in our social safety net. We could improve so many lives if we restructured labour laws and taxation to make our societies more equitable. If we more evenly distributed wealth and created a society where fewer people lived with the eroding stress and constant panic that stems from financial insecurity, our healthcare costs would decrease, consumer spending across the board would increase, and our communities would become more vibrant and safer. It’s short-sighted and unimaginative to let this level of income inequality to persist (and grow!). It’s repugnant to let the wealthy hoard more money than they could spend in a thousand lifetimes, and for what? (Seriously, I’m asking.)
I want so badly for every single person to be paid a fair wage that allows them to live comfortably. I want meaningful work in respectable environments to be accessible to people of all education levels. I fundamentally believe that everyone should be able to afford to live in a safe, well-proportioned, and well-insulated home, that this basic level of accommodation should in no way be seen as a luxury or outlier. I very badly desire a wealth tax that goes towards funding our medical services, our community centres, our schools, our roads, and the arts.
I really don’t understand why any of this is controversial; it seems like a real no-brainer to me.
*Almost all this stuff is regularly marketed to me on Instagram (Meta has an astoundingly poor grasp of my personal financial standing) or is written about in the media I consume with a tone that’s like everyone is doing/buying/consuming this one extremely expensive thing (why yes, I do subscribe to The Cut). And look, I’m not immune to this kind of marketing. I have some ritual powders that I consume to balance my hormones and increase the quality of my sleep or whatever. I often fantasise about having my very own pilates reformer and sauna. I live in a dual-income home with no dependents and though I can’t afford a house, I can afford lots of other garbage and the siren song of consumer spending is sometimes incredibly difficult to ignore despite my knowing better. The trappings of our capitalist culture are not attributed to personal failings, but the vast majority of us are all waist-deep in this muck and we’re a helluva lot closer to slipping under the surface and being homeless than we are to being a billionaire (or even a millionaire!) so I think we collectively need to band together and demand better.
** I can’t 10000% verify this stat right now bc the billionaire-owned Bloomberg newspaper article that I read it in is paywalled and my gift link expired, but I texted enough people about it after initially reading it a few months ago that I think it’s legit.
***Yes, I know this article is from last year, but even with the winter fuel payments for pensioners going out this year, I think, based on vibes, that it’s fair to extrapolate it to apply to this winter as well.
on a monday
There is something so clarifying about having a little stomach flu. I always come out of it feeling something close to enlightenment. I’ve confronted the deepest depths of my human body, tested my limits, and now I can rebuild from the ashes. It’s a real fresh start and I never want to take feeling good, feeling healthy, feeling capable for granted again.
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A humpback whale was beached off the coast of Oregon yesterday and I learned that one of the big problems for beached whales is that their internal organs collapse on themselves when gravity crashes down on them and they’re not floating happily in the ocean. And not to make this all about me, but after two days in bed with this flu I get it; my whole body hurts. (That poor whale, tho. It got caught in a crab line. How heart-wrenching.)
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Just like everyone else, I’ve been listening to the new Rosalía album, Lux, on repeat. My dad always rolls his eyes and says that I like “dramatic music” but it’s like hello, you raised me on Queen and Pink Floyd and Yes so yeah, I like 🎭 dramatic music 🎭. Anyway, the final song on the album, Magnolias, makes me feel like I could jump off my balcony and fly, fr fr.
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Other dramatic music that I’m very into atm: FKA twigs’ EUSEXUA Afterglow, Daniel Avery’s collab with Alison Mosshart, Greasy Off the Racing Line (did you know that Alison’s married to the guy from Homeland? Tf??), and the new Charli xcx collab with John Cale, Home. Why yes, I do listen to Radio 6, how did you know?
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Have you heard of this horrible reading curriculum for children called three cueing? I read about it last week whilst it was doing the rounds on bluesy and yikes. It’s absolutely appalling but also explains a lot about media and regular literacy out there on the wild west of the internet. Thinking about the impacts of three cueing and whatever boomer literacy defect is happening in the Epstein emails and whew, we are all doomed aren’t we.
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A friend’s son’s friend makes the most incredible panettone and is accepting pre-orders up until 17 December! David and I keep fighting about how many to buy. I think we need five, but he thinks three. We have another week or so before I want to lock in my order so I guess I’ll spend the next 10 days in a constant state of anxiety over how much panettone is too much panettone. Please stand by for updates.
on a friday
Brits have no respect for Black Friday. They think any Friday in November and December is Black Friday and I find this very degrading to my native culture. (And very annoying for my inbox.)
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The thing about doing the work is that when you’re not doing the work, you know that you really do need to be doing the work, so you never again have an excuse for not doing the work that you know needs to be done. Very annoying, actually.
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How many people accidentally drop their phones in post boxes every day? Surely it must be quite a common occurrence, but how common? Posties hmu, I need to know.
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I am so deeply tired of turning on my rechargable lamp and then it suddenly turning off because it doesn’t have enough juice. The USB charging cable that comes with it is, of course, 5 inches long so it’s impossible to use it as an actual lamp when it is charging. Call me old fashioned but I’m sick of charging stuff, I just want plugs.
on a wednesday
YAY ZOHRAN MAMDAMI! What a guy. What a win! Let’s do Zack Polanski next, okay!!
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First the olympians were all younger than me, then the entire England men’s rugby team, then my dentist, and now the Mayor of New York? Growing older is so humbling.
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The ai cats in this campaign are really buggin’. Why is one of the cats enormous? Did the creator not realise that the pixel-purrfect fur is pulling much more attention than the prints? Is it really so difficult to take a photo of an actual cat in an actual home with the actual products that are for sale??! I’m not sure why I’m so worked up about this, but every time one of the sponsored photos comes up in my feed I want to throw my phone out the window.
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My youngest brother very earnestly shared a video in the family groupchat that was absolutely made by an ai slopfarm focused on content (if you can even call it that) that ✨reveals the amazing truth behind some of the world’s greatest mysteries✨ or some shit. It’s all very National Enquirer, but with a comments section (and oh boy, the comments!). My brother was like, “Look at this cool thing they discovered! I wasn’t able to find any other information about it online, but it’s awesome if it’s real,” and it took everything within me to not reply, “Is your brain on? This is very obviously not real,” but instead I just stayed quiet and did a little breathing exercise and let them get on with living their delulu life because I learned a long time ago that they think I’ve been brainwashed by the woke mainstream media and don’t like it when I call out their bullshit. But I really worry about stuff like this, about how we’re degrading what is real, about how people are so easily taken in by blatantly false imagery and information. I’ve seen so many smart people I respect share articles/social posts/infographics about the hot Louvre thief/thieves, when trueheads know that those mugshots have been floating around the internet since the Buzzfeed days (and one of them is literally Chace Crawford from Gossip Girl). I don’t know how to teach media literacy without constantly being a buzzkill and a scold (which I often am) but it’s just so frustrating. I implore everyone to please do another google before sharing something! Verify your sources! If something doesn’t feel right or seems too good to be true, it probably is!!
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It’s spiritually not right what we’ve done to the LA landscape. Think about it - LA basically has the same landscape as, like, Tuscany, but can you imagine the horror you would feel if you saw an Oppenheim Group office in those Italian hills? A setting that naturally beautiful should be full of stone homes with kitchens designed for slowly cooking down sauces, with gardens full of olive, fig and citrus trees and balconies that overlook views so beautiful that you are moved to paint them. Instead, the Hollywood Hills are home to some of the ugliest houses ever shown on television, the defining features being: large plate glass windows (perfect for sun bleaching all your books and furniture), overlooked infinity pools, and completely unshaded outdoor spaces, and we’re told this is luxury. I hope they make a new season of this stupid show every year until I die, I’m being so serious.
on a sunday
An enormous I-don’t-think-so-honey to the person who drove past around 13:00 blaring Mariah’s All I Want for Christmas is You whilst I sat reading in the sun on my balcony. Cut it out. It’s far too early for that.
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I mean this so seriously, England desperately needs a November holiday like Thanksgiving to give people:
a) hope
b) but also a more appropriate start date for the Christmas szn.
Labour, if you’re looking to do something popular for once, why don’t you give us a BH in November?! We’re all deprived on sunlight and running ragged by the middle of the month, and it would be such a boon to morale.
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One of the reasons Brits are so miserable by mid-November is that they love to be heat martyrs, each of them playing a smug game of chicken against everyone else to see who will be the first to turn the heat on. They will happily boast that they haven’t touched the thermostat yet, even when their windows are etched in lacy frost and they endlessly wax poetic about how much they love their heated blanket. Whilst it is true that heating one’s home is unnecessarily expensive in this country and it’s genuinely appalling that so many people can’t afford to keep their home at a safe and comfortable temperature, I implore those who can to please stop moaning and just turn on your fucking heat. It will make your life so much happier, I promise. (I’ve consistently had my heat on for weeks and while my mental health isn’t anything to shout about right now, my body temperature is very comfortable, my houseplants are thriving, and my laundry is drying beautifully.)
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There is no relief sweeter than the end of a washing machine spin cycle. I didn’t even realise I was clenching my jaw, but now that it’s over and I’ve relaxed, all my teeth feel loose.
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Something that is very puzzling about cat ownership is that it’s almost impossible to find information about how/why long-haired cats have different kinds of nails/claws to short-haired cats. I can see with mine own eyes that they are different in terms of shape and materiality, so why is this so difficult to find information about this on the world wide web?!
Fungi foray
Much like beauty, if you really look for it, fungus is everywhere.
Ed and I took a guided walk organised by the Southborough Society to explore the funtastical world of fungi that, when you really look, is everywhere around us. It was a nice way to start a Saturday morning and mushroom hunting, in particular, is always a great way to forget about the bullshit that fills our lives and focus the mind on seeing. The goal wasn’t to forage (as is my usual goal when mushrooming) but rather to open ourselves to the wonder of the natural world. Or that’s what I took away from it, anyway.
Though I’m far from an expert on fungi or the expansive world of mushrooms, I’m keen to learn more and am always interested in research that suggests that these types of organisms might help us to heal our bodies, minds, and environments. Though the news is filled with stories of ecological degradation and destruction, there are some hopeful stories out there - like this one:
“Scientists are increasingly looking at microorganisms, such as fungi and bacteria, to help tackle some of the most pressing challenges of the modern age, including the rising tide of plastic pollution. According to the United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP), 400 million tonnes of plastic waste is produced annually, with a steep increase in levels of plastic pollution since the 1970s… To date, 436 species of fungi and bacteria have been found to degrade plastic and Kew scientists and partners believe their latest findings could lead to the development of efficient enzymes designed to biologically degrade plastic waste.”
It’s such a bummer that the billionaires of the world are more focused on water-guzzling data centres than plastic-eating fungi, that the average person is more likely to fill their brain with ai slop than eat a lion’s mane mushroom, but there are glimmers of hope, and though I would have loved to see more young people represented on our fungi foray yesterday, it’s encouraging that a group of 12-15 people showed up on a Saturday morning to really look around and learn a thing or two about something that might just be the key to our sustained survival on this dying planet.
meatballs for .99p
I had a very jolly evening in a wine bar with some friends last night (we had the best creamy and oh-so-goopy goat’s cheese!) so I needed a second breakfast at around 11:30. Doing the shopping hungry is always a bit of a risk, but today I lucked out; the new butcher shop in town sells meatballs for .99p. Though I don’t actually know the going rate for a single meatball, this feels like incredible value and I bought two on a whim whilst buying sausages for our supper. Across the street in the greengrocer, I lucked into finding some spaghetti squash, which is something that I always think you must buy when you see it as you never know when you’ll find it again. A plan largely driven by my stomach was beginning to form, and I also bought a bunch of basil and some beautiful cheery tomatoes.
When I got back home, I popped the meatballs and a handful of tomatoes onto a roasting tray and then into the oven. I chopped a stem full of basil leaves into ribbons and put them in a bowl with salt and pepper and a good glug of olive oil. As I waited for the oven to do its thing, I cut a piece of bread and put it in the toaster. Then I waited. Impatiently. Hungrily. When the tomatoes started to collapse I plucked them out of the oven with some tongs and then switched the oven onto grill, to give my balls a bit of crisp. I mixed the tomatoes into the basil and let their hot juice soak into the greens. Et voila, sauce. When the meatballs formed a nice brown crust on top, I placed them in the bowl with my sauce, grated some parmesan on top, and then buttered my toast, which I used primarily as an edible spoon. It was everything I hoped it to be.
David spent £3.59 at McDonald’s this morning on his slightly-hungover breakfast. Whilst I have no way of being 100% sure, at .99p/meatball, I think my little mid-morning indulgence came in cheaper than that, and I know for a fact that it was tastier and more delightful. Perhaps I should keep a dozen meatballs in the freezer for other mornings when the gnawing need for a second breakfast just won’t quit.
hungerford in autumn
A few snapshots from our trip to Hungerford this past weekend. Though I still maintain the habit of carrying my camera with me most places, I’ve been absolutely rubbish at taking photos for myself these past few years. But I’m trying to train my eye to get back into the habit of seeing.
I’m slowly working my way through Braiding Sweetgrass, taking my time with every chapter to absorb the wisdom and lessons. In it, Robin Wall Kimmerer recounts how she revitalised the pond behind her house in upstate NY, explains how much graft and care she took in nurturing the habitat back to life. “Everybody lives downstream,” she writes, “the water net connects us all.”
It’s incredible to think about how much work goes into making sure all these spaces that we share are ecologically balanced, safe for wildlife and humans alike, and protected. We’re very lucky here in the UK to have so much of our countryside open and accessible, and I’m thankful to everyone upstream who makes sure that these spaces stay healthy and sacred.
Going away with friends
It’s so fun, going away with friends. Sharing a kitchen and finding out which of these absolute heathens puts knives in the dishwasher, learning who falls asleep during every movie, who’s always suggesting we all play a game, who seems to have a catlike aversion to showering (me, I am the last one). It’s fun to see your friends in pyjamas, to find out what jobs they volunteer to do, to learn how much ribbing they can take before their morning coffee.
We spent the weekend in Hungerford at a friend’s brother’s house. It was my favourite kind of British home* - absolutely full of treasure, but nothing was precious. A house whose rhythms are set by the two cats, two dogs, and lizard who all live there and need regular feeding and care. Welcoming and well-loved, but with some bits that truly make a house your home - broken door handles that need to be turned just so, dusty base boards, those piles of papers that could absolutely go in the bin but someone thinks there might be something important in there! so they’re kept, just in case, in a neat stack on the piano. A home that is teeming with life, where nobody has to be too careful, where anyone can flop on the sofa or help themselves to whatever’s in the fridge or take a quick snooze in the sunny conservatory without fear of rebuke.
Our friend’s brother’s house backed onto the marshes - as I believe they’re called - that run through the town and oh, how I loved to be near the water! Clear and clean, a small river flows through the marshes towards the River Kennet, with a canal punctuated with locks another hundred yards along. Boys off school during half term were fishing in the shallow water, scientists were dragging nets through the riverbed and counting bugs, canal boats were moored up alongside the bank with plumes of smoke cheerily filling the air with the smell of warm autumn fire. Though I like where I live very much, I miss the streams, ponds and lakes of my childhood in the Midwest, and even though I never got my feet wet, stepping out to walk along the river in Hungerford was cleansing.
* I feel like Bridget’s family home in Bridget Jones Mad About the Boy does a great job of bringing this exact type of British home to the screen.
No, pt I
Sat next to a Norwegian man on a bus today who was raw-dogging a naked booster toilet seat around with him. I know it’s probably for his rosy-cheeked Norwegian child but genuinely, should it not be in a bag or something? I don’t know what’s worse, bum germs on the bus or bus germs on the bum, but either way it’s a no from me.
empty paper cups
Unfortunately the paper to-go cup acting in the first episode of the new season of Slow Horses is very bad. Why, why?!, can actors not act with an empty cup? Why, and I am genuinely asking, can we not put a little water in the paper cups so they have some weight to them, so the actors handle them not as a three-dimensional piece of paper but as a vessel for actual liquid that human beings drink? Why are we still, in the year of our lord 2025, when Andy Serkis can cover himself in dots and be turned into the most realistic monsters against which even bad actors convincingly act, are we still waving paper cups around like they are batons? If this is a liquid problem, could we not weight the cups with rocks? Could we not create a special cup insert that mimics the feeling of holding an actually filled cup? We must get our greatest minds working on this.
a new leaf
I love it when the room is quiet and then cwack!, you hear it, the sound of a thin sheath splitting and a new leaf begins to unfurl. If you listen closely you can hear it stretch, small but resolute and cracking like vertebrae, slowly, slowly. A breeze from outside comes through from under the door like a whisper and the whole plant flutters, delicate as an eyelid, blink-and-you-miss-it. Lola watches a spider creep up the long neck of the monstera and we all hold our breath; the sun is kissing the new green leaf and the cat’s eyes are narrow and her tail is thwacking the floor and I’m rapt, tapped into a universe in which I am godzilla, peering into rooms in which I’ll never fit.