Tag Archives: Henry David Thoreau

“The Spud” with Joan Collins..

Inside the bubble that is my today, all is peace and tranquility. Outside this bubble, even through the muffling effects of both choice and double glazing, farm machines are ceaselessly thrumming. Those outside of my bubble are marching to the … Continue reading

Posted in Bad Habits, Caviar, Cooking, Cream, creme fraiche, Digital photography, Excellence, Humour, lumpfish eggs, Photography, potato, Recipes, Uncategorized, Vegetables, Weather, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 62 Comments