Category: The Swipe

A real Jeckll-and-Hyde week. On Saturday I started feeling unwell—a killer combo of aches, shivers and hot flushes which rendered me horizontal and housebound until Wednesday. Once I was back on my feet, I had to negociate three days of social activity, including a trip to Oxford to see The Waterboys—of which much more next week. It would have been very easy to cry off on the extrovert duties—I had a great excuse, after all. I’m pretty sure I was no longer a carrier for whatever hit me at that point, but folks would have understood. For once, though, I felt I needed to be out and amongst friends. And you know what, I think it really helped in the recovery process. My hermit tendencies are strong. I need to not let them take over.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

Continue reading The Swipe Volume 3 Chapter 15

I think I have to make a deal over Eurovision this year. I love the songs, the manic vibe, the surreal quality of the whole big-tent circus. But once the songs are done and the judging machine grinds into life—well, I lose interest rapidly. I know C feels the same way—she’s talking about giving the whole thing a miss this year. So, we’ll see. I suspect we’ll watch the performances and find out who won the following morning. Rooting for the UK of course (What The Hell Just Happened? has strong musical theatre vibes which may help it out) but I’ll tag my personal choice below.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

Continue reading The Swipe Volume 3 Chapter 14

All of a sudden, I’m playing catchup to my salad and spinach from the garden. The good green stuff is constantly in need of cutting and eating. Not a bad thing, of course—C and I are filled with fibre, vitamins and iron. And an armful of spinach melts to a few spoonfuls of concentrated goodness in a hot pan. I just wish the same could be said for my cucumbers and tomatoes, which are taking their own sweet time. Yes, I know it’s only May but still.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

Continue reading The Swipe Volume 3 Chapter 13

Susie Dent says: ”Word of the day is ‘forswunk’ (13th century): exhausted from too much work. I like to think that ‘foreswunk’ is to be exhausted before you even begin.”

Your umble author is well and truly forswunk, it’s been a wild week. Therefore a slightly foreshortened chapter this week, with a hopeful long weekend ahead. I shall be laying a concrete patio. Pray for me.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

Continue reading The Swipe Volume 3 Chapter 12

As we slide into May, all the hard work C and I have put in at Copse End over the last six months is starting to pay off. Most of the new beds are in, dug and planted. There is one big path up the whole length of the garden now from the back door to Gwen’s Den, dozens of stepping stones in a long undulating line. House Beast Millie approves, marching up and down her territory like the boss she is, big fluffy tail held high.

It’s growing season. Lots of the plants we started from seed in the new year are ready to harden off before their final destination. My trug of salad leaves and radishes is romping away, and the chard, fennel and spinach up top looks very promising. The apple and cherry trees are in bloom, all candy pink and floss-white.

Speaking of which, the annual confetti-fest from next door has arrived. A huge old apple tree looms over the top of the garden and creates giant puffballs of blossom. The windy weather shakes it all onto our patio. It looks like the aftermath of a particularly camp wedding.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

Continue reading The Swipe Volume 3 Chapter 11

A bumper edition ahead this week, all the better to feed your greedy curious minds on this deliciously elongated weekend. I trust the Easter Bunny laid you plenty of treats and you’ve started the long slow roast of the festive beast. My haunch of unicorn went into the fire pit yesterday afternoon alongside woody herbs and a couple of diamonds for flavour. The meat should slide off the bones in perfect time for our celebration of nailing some poor Palestinian to a tree a few thousand years ago.

There may also be trifle.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you celebrate, welcome to The Swipe.

Continue reading The Swipe Volume 3 Chapter 10

One of those weeks where celebrity deaths come in threes. Questions are beginning to be raised as to the suspicious ends of Gene Hackman, his wife and dog, while Roberta Flack’s onward transition was met with universal sadness and the inevitable BBC4 documentary. Meanwhile the Oscars staff are no doubt scrambling to update their In Memorium section before tomorrow.

For me, though, the passing of Henry Kelly hit hardest. I was interviewed by him for BBC Berkshire back when I was collaborating on zombie anthologies—the newsworthy connection came from my pal Rob generating a preparedness plan should Z-Day hit Reading. Henry was slightly baffled by the whole thing but charming and funny throughout. As a fan of Going For Gold when I was a student, it was a wildly weird but entirely cool moment for me to chat to him about prepping The Oracle against an incursion from the living dead.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

Continue reading The Swipe Volume 3 Chapter 6