Dogs, Chickens and Vintage China

< Previous | Next > It’s a Thursday and I am three weeks into the cancer treatment.  The first week had been pretty uneventful, I felt a little nausea and there were some changes happening in my mouth and throat that I had not ordered but nothing that startling. What I definitely have not ordered is what is happening to my sense of taste, to be frank, it appears to have fucked off never to be seen again.  What is the most disconcerting is the food that I find the worst is my own.  By this I mean that I am the principal cook in the Acheson-Crow household and do nearly all the cooking.  At age fourteen my daughter decided to become vegetarian and from then on very nearly all the food I've cooked has been vegetarian. I couldn’t be bothered with doing two lots of meals for the sake of a bit of meat. To be fair, during the 90’s I was almost completely ‘brassic’ and at one point was existing on exactly £10 a week for food, which, even thirty years ago, was fairly dr...

< Previous  | Next > I didn’t just spend the weekend waiting for the axe to fall, no I had organised with a friend to have my new bike MOT’d.  Who am I kidding, I didn’t organise anything, Mark sorted it out for me, all I had to do was turn up. Well, there was one thing I had to do, during my sojourn in the hinterland of Nempnett Thrubwell when I had nearly torn my own foot off, I had also torn off the switch for the back brake light.  This had to be repaired and I had to do it. So we now return to the previous weekend when I attempted to fix said back brake switch. Now many of you will know that I am quite handy at many practical things, mainly involving wood working, I’ve built several camper vans, a small Airbnb cottage with my brother in law and a variety of strange structures in our garden. However when it comes to mechanics I pretty much fall apart, I, frankly, hate it. However I summoned up the blood and girded my loins and set my face to do this rather dista...