A big puff

Around this time last year I spoke about climate change growing at the Country Living Fayre at the Business Centre, Islington, London. As you might imagine, the place looked like a killer virus had visited, targetting males and anyone who worked for a living, but that didn’t stop it being huge fun. I may have consumed my own weight in pastries over that couple of days.

I was invited again this year, but what with the book coming out there’s not the time. A weird coincidence that I’ve just finished the final soap I bought there from the Highland Soap Company. I remember Patrick Stewart (baldy in Star Trek and more hibrow stuff) in one of those strangely fascinating mini-interview/listy things the weekend papers love, saying that expensive bed linen improved every aspect of bed living to a riduculous level, and I’d say that in it’s own utterly non-essential way, marvellous soap similarly makes life just that sweet, tiny increment more wonderful.

I planted a couple of bog myrtle plants partly on the strength of the scent its essential oils had leant this soap, and just as I’m saying I won’t be able to attempt once again to eat my own weight in pastries and I’ve finished the last of the last of the soaps, the largest of the plants is throwing out it’s pollen.