Seeking the seasons

All I want to eat are my home grown toms, sprinkled with a little salt on buttery bread. Or perhaps I'll savour these little plump gems with a lump of cheddar or cooked gently and covered in olive oil and oregano from the herb patch. They've done well the old toms; a few weeks ago I thought we were destined for fried green tomatoes, whistle stop café styley. Maybe I'd have to make my own pickle, a worrying thought for my loved ones as I'm really not the best chef. Lately I've been feeling a bit sick and I need my garden aid more than ever. The toms are a god send and I actually find I'm craving them. They are all I want. It's a joyful act bringing them inside too. Me and one of my cats, usually Ziggy oversee tomato production. First we sniff them and give them a gentle squeeze and then we declare them ready or not to pick. We've done very well this year, from early cherry toms in the hanging baskets - thanks Homebase, to the juicy heirloom va...

Hello there, so I've been freelance for a few months now and pretty much left to my own devices - which is both thrilling and terrifying in equal measure. And whilst it undoubtedly is a happier, more productive, more creative and joy filled life, where I've actually been able to register the little things and the true stuff of this life, which used to get lost somewhere between the office, my car and my head, it can have its own challenges. I have to say that mostly I'm rather proud of me, I took a stand against horrible bosses the world over and did a rather wild thing in an uncertain world jam-packed with Brexit and World War three. With my heart in my mouth I took that leap into this world, where I sit now quite contentedly. I said goodbye to office based egos and the joy suckers because I thought I deserved better - what madness. But, and here is the biggest surprise of all - it's been OK, more than OK in fact, a real turn up for the books. People actually...