The Whimsy on this Wednesday of fasting on the love fest!

Put that one in your diary!

Yesterday was pancake day. Big.Fat.Tuesday. Mardis Gras. Eat as much batter as you can until you feel like you might explode.

I made many. People of great interest travel to mine for my culinary creperie creation. Yes, they do. I make a fine tosser and I splatter them lovingly with lemon or the finest salted butter and sugar. Yumptious. It’s like Vogue on a plate.

Talking of food…

 Cos I’ve little else of value to chat about, I went to a Vietnamese restaurant last week and my word, what a taste sensation that was! Glorious. See what I had. A bowlful of noodle-doodle divinity. Going there again.

Of course, now we can’t eat anymore because it’s Ash Wednesday. It’s also Valentine’s Day. Now which takes precedence, eh? You can’t start starving yourself if you’re about to go out and eat a 3-course meal somewhere proper fancy pants, and you can’t eat those luscious velveteen Belgian chocolates. NO! SLAP! Go and fast you heathen! They didn’t think that one through did they, the old calendar people. Someone’s going to get the chop for that gaffe.  The only way this is going to work on a win/win basis is by giving up something that isn’t food-related or nice… hmmm….I’m struggling to find a sacrifice here. I don’t think giving up housework counts. 

Anyway, Happy Valentine’s Day!

Here’s a red nose!

Oh! Rose not nose. Alright, picky, picky.

 What about 99 red balloons and a verse? 

In the quiet of the day, a figure stood cradling a bouquet of vibrant balloons, each tethered to a cherished hope or dream. With each whispering breeze, the balloons danced, carrying the aspirations that lingered in the heart. The person gazed up high, releasing one balloon at a time and watching them ascend into the vast canvas. As the colours soared, a silent pact with the universe unfolded; an act of surrender to the possibility that dreams, like balloons, might find their way to fruition in the open soul of the sky.

Fine. Have some flowers!

Talking of flowers…

I have a delivery of a pretty bouquet monthly from Freddie’s Flowers because I got talked into it at the Chelsea Flower Show. I always forget to cancel the subscription and when they arrive I sigh, berate myself, then open them and say, “Goodness, these are rather lovely.”  They always come in a nice box with lovely leaflets and brown packaging paper tied up with jute. Rustic. Beautiful. All the things I love. I can never bear to throw anything away like that as I am a re-use and re-purpose kind of person. So, I made a book out of their packing. A JuJu Junk Journal if you will. 

Freddie gave it a “like” on my Instagram page. I should bloody think so. I bet nobody else went to that trouble when arranging their flowers. Hand-sewed a book with fine pages using the saddle stitch method whilst delicately arranging her flowers like a floristry boss.

I don’t get nearly enough credit for the things I do. I’m seriously considering becoming selfish. 

And on that note, I shall leave you with Tex all done in the best possible taste!