Being fifty-something, I know how to pick my battles. When the sparky knocked on my door today, ready to install our new smart meter, I’d already determined this was one battle I wasn’t suiting up for. If you’re not Victorian, you might not know the history of smart meters. In a nutshell, they’re new electricity… Continue reading Picking your battles. Smartly.
Being fifty-something, I’ve outlived a few family pets. There was Cocoa the evil black bitch-kitty, Amber and Tessa (both German Shepherds) and an assortment of lizards, goldfish and blue yabbies. We even had a Spanish fighting fish that lived in a bowl in a cupboard after the cat showed him too much attention. Yesterday, we… Continue reading Can I borrow your dog? Please.
Being fifty something, I’ve cooked with dried herbs, frozen herbs, herb-infused oils and creamed herbs (that’s what I call those ones you buy in tubes in the fruit and veg department at the supermarket). Nothing beats fresh herbs so it’s time to flip my green thumb out of my back pocket and get on with… Continue reading Getting my herb on. Imagine that.