Holy Bowly

My new bowls, kicking it on the lawn

Cripes. I'm turning into The Salty C Dog more every day. I left the office today and made a bee line for the local nursery, my new favourite place where the only bother is thorns, bees and the odd rogue sprinkler. My lettuce has all gone to seed (tip, break off the head when the lettuce starts to look a little alien and it'll continue to grow as intended) and I needed to replenish all things home-grown for the summer. My  obsession for cultivation begun after watching Food Inc. (click here to watch the trailer) and I decided it was time to vote with my own wallet. I can't remember when last I bought anything green from a supermarket and my salad and rocket leaves last for weeks in the fridge. It just shows how long the produce we buy has been 'in transit' before we consume it - days, sometimes years. 

So today I left the nursery a little lighter than usual, tomatoes, eish lettuce (yes, it's actually called eish lettuce), chillies and a range of gorgeous pink flower seeds in tow, ready to tackle summer salads n' barbeques, baby. You know you're turning into your mother when you replace the Haute Cabriere Chardonnay Pinot  Noir with secateurs. You also know you're turning into your mother when you start to adopt her hobbies, like pottery, the new love of my life. I needed to flex my creative muscle and embrace my inner Demi Moore and started weekly pottery classes with Anne Rimbault (website here) in Bordeaux. The little bowls pictured above are fresh from the kiln and were my first [dismal] attempt at the wheel. Anyhoo, I think they're kinda cute, and I'm looking forward to graduating to bigger things, like cereal bowls. 

All I can say is that if you're feeling like something's missing, grow something, or make something, you'll be amazed at how satisfying it is. 

Back to basics, 

brandslut xoxo