For the past two years I have attempted to learn to knit. Apparently knitting can be super fun and addictive (should I start worrying about myself starting addictive but painful or frustrating activities?).

Anyway, I have tried and tried to knit quite a few times in my life. Lots of different people with much more advanced knitting skills (and with lots of patience) have unsuccessfully tried to show me how to knit properly. Is it possible that  some of us just aren't wired right? 

However, as you already know, I rarely give up. Some months ago I joined a knitting club in my lunch break (in my real work lunch break). Knitting is one of those things I love to do but I’m sadly unable to. Some people have what it takes, and some don’t. And there is nothing we can do about it.

Seriously Indulgent Rocky Road

I have started to jog. Ok, ok, it has been just three times so far, but I feel like a new person. A fit, healthy and at the verge of collapse, muscular person.

The first day I run for about 20 minutes with 3 stops to recuperate. The second day I ran 20 minutes nonstop. Yesterday I ran 30 long minutes.

When I told to my friends I was going to run they said it was going to be great, maybe a bit tough the first few days but much better after that and almost addictive if I managed to run for a month or so.

Devon Asparagus, Cured Ham and Poached Duck Egg

If you are what you eat I should be a completely different person now. And that’s because since I moved to the UK my diet has changed A LOT.

Some years ago I would have bet that Brits’ diet was reduced to toasts, eggs, bacon and baked beans, and although it is true that some people wouldn't eat anything that has not come out of a can, I won’t tar everyone with the same brush.

So I will eat humble pie and admit I was swayed by stereotypes, because there is a lot of amazing food I have discovered here and without which I wouldn't be able to live. Food in the UK is amazing and trifle is the proof of the pudding. Holy Mackerel, they know how to cook a dish fit for the gods.

After Eight Meringues

Thursday. 17.30. Long day and empty stomach. You are driving back home in no mood to cook. That fried chicken place is too tempting. Let’s do it. This will save you some time, doesn’t it? Maxi chicken combo. Big drink. Extra big fries. Slow traffic. Why not to devour it right there in the driver’s seat. Crumbs on your trousers. Ketchup stains on your shirt. Feeling a bit bloated and greasy you arrive home. Disgusted with yourself. 

Saturday. 15.30. Sofa and food magazine. Gorgeous recipe in page number 16. Let’s do it. Relaxed visit to the grocery picking delicious ingredients. Apron on. Music on. Fresh air through the open window. Steering with a wooden spoon. Try a bit. Taste delicious. Nice table and cloth napkins. Glass of wine. Laughs. Long interesting conversation with you both feeling full and pretty happy.

Guacamole in a Boat

My 4 year old child is going through a difficult stage. He feels upset. Very cross. Displeased in general with the world, with how life is set up. And the most frustrating thing is that I cannot do absolutely anything to change that, apart from being supportive and loving when he needs it. Because what he wants is to be with us the whole day. With no school, nor work or responsibilities.

And that's not possible. And he knows is not. But that's not enough. He feels it's not fair. And to be completely honest with you, me neither. 

I don't like how the world works.