Meet cucumber. The brattiest plant of the lot. He lives to be a drama queen and I have little idea how he’s going to survive in new surroundings for a week when I’m away.
Now that you know how that relationship is going, I must tell you that it’s been a year since immigration guy at Newark stamped my passport and let me into this country. How generous.
This time last year I was in New York eating rice pudding, playing with Izzy and feeling like a tiny speck on this planet. Strange because I’ve had a huge craving to go back. Now that I realise where it’s coming from, I’ll silence it until I’m ready to set it free again.
I’m not one for counting years (unless it’s my own birthday) so I won’t. Instead I will do what I usually do at this time and make myself lunch.