Month: July 2013


I finished A Daughter’s Love a couple of days ago. Great stuff; I’ll be pestering St. Thomas More more often from now on. Whether or not that was the author’s intention I don’t know, but, ahem, God works in mysterious ways and all that (I actually dislike clichés quite a bit, but when you’re pressed for time, what’s a girl to do?).

Never mind all that. Here’s what I’m reading now – there are two of them, don’t let that scare you:


JHNSelectedSermonsAt some point over the Summer I’ll get round to reading some Serious Stuff™, but not just yet as there’s plenty of work to keep me out of trouble for the time being. In fact I didn’t expect Semiology to be quite so much fun to read – the cover (!) and references to it I’ve read elsewhere gave me rather forbidding expectations. Just goes to show…nah, I can’t use two clichés in one post 😉



I do not follow Eccles, except to look at odd posts My Mate Mulier points me to, and occasionally when I think to type in the blog address. But today a series of events, much too mundane to describe here, led me to this post, which I think we’ll all agree is a very important application of post Vatican II principles to a Test Series.

In addition I now have a craving for Lancashire Hot Pot.

Books! Books! Boooks!

My Mate JJ is off having too much of a good time in ol’ Lunnon Tahn. To make things worse, he’s posting photos of bookshops. I suspect him of doing this quite deliberately to make me unhappy.

Having said that, it’s not like I don’t have enough books to read here, and right now I’m chunkering (in case that’s not in the OED, it’s a Fitzy Word. I thus proclaim it so) through this:

A Daughter's LoveIt’s lots of fun and you should all read it too. I’m liking St. Thomas More all the…more (sorry), I’m liking his daughter very much (given that I didn’t know much about her previously), and I’m disliking Erasmus the more I read about him.


There is, apparently, a part of the world’s population that thinks me one of the dullest wastes of space ever to have existed. The significance (or otherwise) of that part is perhaps to be debated, but I thought I should just throw it out there as preparation for this post. There’s not even any maths in it, so you know it’s got to be bad.

It’s about my plants.

First there was Plantje.

20130615 Plantje

This photo’s actually a few weeks old – he’s grown a few more leaves since then. I’m just dull and lazy and haven’t taken a photo of him today.

Then there was Broertje, who, whilst not yet having made it out of his cradle, is showing signs of being more bolshy than his elder brother (typical middle child).


Yes, I lost the fourth chopstick somewhere. And by ‘somewhere’ I mean that I knocked it out of place and it fell down the side of the washing machine.

A few days ago, whilst clearing out some boxes, I came across some seeds I’d bought a couple of years ago, thought to myself, ‘What the heck,’ and tossed some into a sawn-off milk carton. Lo.


But the real shocker today is this:


All right, that’s Broertje on the left. He muscled into this shot. I’m interested in the…thing on the right.


This is either a lemon or grapefruit shoot. On the urging of My Mate Mulier, I’d taken a couple of seeds and stuck them in a jar with some compost. Now I know nothing about plants or gardening, so when Mulier told me that planting them in a pot with no drainage would likely end in nothing but waterlogging, I kind of shrugged and got on with my life. Occasionally I thought about, you know, tossing the things, but…yeah, I’m dull and lazy.

So when I wandered, bleary-eyed, into my kitchen earlier, and saw that one of them was GROWING – well. You can imagine my excitement.

And then came the realisation that I am, by the day, more and more, turning into my mother. Oh boy.