It’s the love that dare not speak its name: woman and teapot. Behold the Brown Betty, a Christmas gift from the in-laws. Made in England, sensible and sturdy; its a vessel that would steer one through great Wars and Depressions. Or just perch regally on the crappy IKEA coffee table of some modern-day nitwit.
(Does anyone know where to find a good tea cozy these days?!)
That is, if you could spot it amongst the ten trillion Paul McKenna books. I Can Make You Thin is his current blockbuster. How can I compete with such a bold celebrity promise? Maybe I should have called my book I Can’t Make You Thin, But You Can Giggle At The Incompetent Adventures Of A Nobody.
It was an exciting day. I hid behind a stack of books at Waterstones for twenty minutes, staking out the New Year’s Resolutions display and summoning all my ESP powers. Pick it up! Somebody, pick it up pleeease! Nooo! Not the bloody McKenna!
So my ESP stinks, but I was happy just to be there. I went home, made some pasta and bawled while chopping the onions. I think I was a wee bit overwhelmed and emotional that all this writing and editing and insanity actually led to a finished product. The road is loooong… with many a wiiiiinding turn.
If anyone is still out there reading this steaming pile of neglect — thank you. It was a rather lonely and miserable day 7.5 years ago when I started WNP; it seemed like a new-fangled way for the inept to connect. I ended up finding so many good people and rediscovering how much fun it was to hammer away at a keyboard.
To celebrate publication day in hardcore style, the teapot made its debut and I made a batch of pikelets, those stumpy Australian pancake-y treats. Turns out they’re the same thing as Scotch Pancakes, but I prefer to call them pikelets because it’s one of the greatest words to say in an Aussie accent… POIKE-LETS!
Happy new year, groovy groovers!