Who knew we had our very own boutique café? Taking bookings for tea on the terrace right now.
At the very moment that millions are ill from malnutrition, here we are, ill from gluttony.
See, all those hours spent watching some random bloke cleaning people’s patios were not wasted after all. Inspired me to weed mine, eventually. Could still do with a clean, though. But that’s a job for another day. I’m pooped.
Nuts must be in short supply, for the local neighbourhood squirrel has taken to pilfering all the garden fruits. Looks like this one has a taste for Turkish lokum too, since it keeps plucking the succulent buds of the roses whenever they reappear.
The notion of virgin forest, untouched by man, is a myth. This the conclusion I draw, inspecting my gone-wild back garden. After just a few weeks’ neglect, vines, brambles and self-seeded sycamores are on the ascendancy. Left three years and we’d have a jungle on our hands. Remove the population of our town for twenty …
Our charity to the bees who, we’re told, haven’t had enough to pollinate this spring. The least we can do, given that we steal their honey. Enjoy the weeds and shaggy grass, dear friends. Bzzz alaikum.
So, our big hungry caterpillar munched through a week’s supply of fruit in twenty-four hours, and polished off all the goodies bought for our guests. Just waiting for him to turn into a butterfly now. For sure, we have nothing left for him to eat for the rest of the week.
Oh well, that ‘repair’ lasted twenty-four hours. Who knew a storm was due after such fantastic weekend weather? I give up.
I’m not even trying at this point. A temporary fix until a professional replaces the lot.
Successful gardening leave, in my humble opinion. The best form of therapy.
I said to my wife when she commended my efforts, “I’m not a pro, but I’m cheaper than the other guy.” I booked the other guy months ago, but he was another no-show. As usual, we learn that the best approach is to do it ourselves. I may still need the other guy for his …
Always the same mistake: consuming food from outside the home in Ramadan. Never can I resist that momentary temptation, succumbing to the spices and fried delights gifted by generous friends. But without fail, in the coming hours, I will be reminded of my folly, as my body recoils in discomfort and pain. A month of …
As true northerners, we break our fast with Yorkshire puddings.
Taking the family out for lunch, I naturally couldn’t resist a Turkish coffee to wash it down. Afterwards, I went to get my hair cut. What would they serve me on top of the hot towel and massage? Why, another complimentary Turkish coffee, of course!
