Courgnot?

Had a bit of an accident whilst prepping dinner recently. Thought I'd be all au natural and use the garden produce, but not only did I accidentally use Jess' courgettes instead of mine, I also mistook her butternut squash for a gorge corge. It was a baby, and may I say, quite in disguise.

Never mind. I had a wild time with all my stolen goods. I made grated courgette, chilli, lemon, parmesan, and pine nut spaghetti, with an afters of roasted peaches with mascarpone. Personally, I find the seasoning of guilt as effective as pepper, which is lucky as I always forget to season the traditional way.

Something you may find useful: When you've grated the courgettes you have to squeeze all the moisture out of them in a tea towel. Then when as dry as Alex's humour you add them to the other ingredients and fry briefly.

OOh look how much Bob is enjoying that. Don't get that expression in Croyden, do you!

Harry Potato and the Sorcerer's sausages

I received a sign the other day that it was okay to eat sausages. I'd been querying them as Becky Sunshine's Granny calls them little parcels of surprises. And I don't really like risks, David Haddrell.

However, when I bought my potatoes to mash, one reached out to me in the form of the mark of Harry Potter! I felt like it was saying to me 'trust in the unknown, even though these sausages are only 64% meat, the rest of it isn't necessarily bad.'

Adventure panic over I fried up the saus saus, and ate them with mash, cider gravy again, and a bed of greens. Ever so warming. Then I watched an entire box set of Teachers as if I was in possession of Hermione's Time Turner and could seek solace in 1999.

The ricotta riots

People have been rioting that I'm so behind in my blogging! Can you imagine. Frustration from my fans had spread like pouring cream right from Hackney to the North. Well, I am very popular.

Well don't worry. Abi, Juliet, and Louie B, you can stop anxiously facebook statusing, and start reading, as I'm BACK!

I've got loads of courgettes from the garden- well not my garden really but from someone who wanted to feed me up- so I googled what

on earth to do with them. The BBC seems to think that creamy courgette lasagne is a good idea. I will have this with beetroot leaf salad. The beetroots are not seasoned with stolen, but mine you'll be pleased to know. My first crop.

The aftermath: We very much enjoyed this sat in the garden with our four bottles of wine. Afterwards we watched Twilight and painted our nails. I even managed to sneak Mum's favourite fuchsia onto Alex's toes when he was distracted with his wine. They looked blooming lovely!

Murder on the grassfloor

With passions flying in these heated times we thought it was time to cool down a bit with a good old fashioned waterfight. Everyone assembled in the garden wearing a pick n mix of all my old clothes and chucked water balloons at each other whilst the children from next door stared open mouthed. It wasn't that good.... I've not come much further than when Dad would only arm me with a Vitalite tube of water vs the neighbour hoodlum's supersoakers. Forced Conscientious Objector of the modern day.

Once chilled it was time to sit down in the hastily assembled Cath Kidston tent for dinner. We had sausages braised

in cider and shallots, with red cabbage, and sage mash potato. It was delish. For pudding we had strawberries and cream, and managed to leave some cream on our spoons!

Hotel Chocolat

After an indulgent lie in until 8.30am I was up and raring to go. Alex had suggested I 'tret' myself after my gruelling stint of 12 hour shifts hard labour so I sniffed in my room for something to achieve that.

In my chocolate box was the dregs of my birthday chocolate from Dave F so I gobbled that up.

Argh! Chilli! Forgot that it was the white chocolate that had chilli flavouring. My freshly awoken mouth was still too tender for such alarming flavours. Quick, what could extinguish the flames?

Doggie? He looks too sad about that.

What about just his tail? But that would only be a lick. Probably not worth it.

Oohh a glass of milk followed by a bath whilst watching 90210. That sounds like a proper soothe. Although Doggie can only lap up the pleasure of one of those as I don't want him to melt in the hot water.

Shepherd's Cry

I quite thought my last day at work would be accompanied by the sobbing strains of

"Goodbye my lover, goodbye my friend, you have been the one, you have been the one for me...blah blah."

Alas it wasn't to be. My clients didn't really seem to mind too much. One told me to get lost and refused my handmade origami farewell card..

Luckily Becky Sunshine came over for dinner to cheer me up with her heavenly face. We made a spring shepherd's pie with lots of cream and cheese in the mash to make me feel better. Something which you won't feel after looking at the photos as they look a bit sick.

Waity for Katy

Bob and I both awoke really early with wedding nerves after a night full of anxious nightmares (Rebecca Marsh dying, and Bob making us late by insisting she go to the toilet at my house not in public, respectively).

This was it. Our big day. We met at 10pm in a four mile queue for the Book Club street party. Two hours and lots of Pimms later we were turned away a few people from the door as they'd reached capacity. Not very nice. Mum always said people have room in their hearts for a few more.. Clearly not.

So we scampered off to the Breakfast Club and got "Eggs Royale" and a

bottle of champagne. We enjoyed this, watching the wedding on the iphone propped up by our ketchup bottle.

Unfort there was a little green fly in the dregs of my last glass so I demanded and received another bottle immediately. Two bottles of champagne later I was sick in the toilets and had to go home. I knew the Monarchy made me feel ill!