To stave off the non-working boredom I thought I'd indulge in a spot of floristry. The smell of eucalyptus makes me feel better and concetrating on something other than Murder She Wrote must be good for my brain.
Behold my wreath - made with ingredients from Miss Pickering and my garden. The oranges I dried myself and they smell yummy. I now have florist fingernails - nice and grimey - and a sore back from standing for so long - but I think the results are worth it - don't you?
In other news Baby Jones seems to like pig rolls with stuffing and apple sauce - I'm thinking of installing a spit in the garden. My jeans no longer fit and are being held up with a hair band.
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