Add New Post

‘Add New Post’

This blog / website / whatever it is called now, wants me to add a new post every time I come here. If I do make the effort to add a new post it normally means I’ve got something specific to write about. Whether it’s one of my feeble attempts to market my books and/or art or whether it’s one of those rare occasions when I get wound up enough about some topic, usually political, or vegan-related, to feel a need to make some comment about it.

There is a third reason I add new posts, and that is the most important reason – it’s when I share some of my creative work, like a short story, or a poem, or some rant about parallel universes and/or the nature of reality.

But sometimes there are gaps when I have nothing specific to say, and I don’t feel particularly inclined to share some creative work, yet I still feel the urge to add a new post.

This post is a result of one of those gaps, there is no reason for this post other than to fill it (the gap).

Yet . . .

I do have something to say, I’m sure I do . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

How much fruit and veg is ‘ten a day’

New research has indicated that people should eat 10 portions of fruit and/or vegetables every day if they want to achieve a longer and healthier life.

I wondered what 10 portions would look like so I raided the fridge and fruit bowl and added fruit and veg until it weighed 800 grams, which, according the the NHS, is what 10 portions weigh at 80 grams each.

Prices are based on the costs of the fruit and veg from local supermarkets and greengrocers’ shops, not the cheapest places to buy, not the most expensive either.

Bon Appétit!

You are what you eat?

(An old poem: from around 1999)

Do you want to be a vegetable,
or a pineapple chunk?
Would you like to be a rotten grape,
continually drunk?
Or if you wander in the woods
and eat the fungus balls
Does that mean that you’re a spore
infinitesimally small?

My mother likes a bit of fish
all soft in crispy batter
now when it’s raining cats and dogs
she says it doesn’t matter.
Sometimes on a Saturday
my brother eats lamb curry
I think his face has started
to go all white and furry.

If it’s true and we’re our food
don’t you think it’s time
to serve up David Beckham
Posh Spiced, with sage and Thyme
Or maybe we will tuck into
Catherine Zeta-Jones
On a bed of Holly Wood
Be careful of the bones

A visit from The Magic Elf

This is an extract from one of my books.

And now it’s the morning of March 15th 2016. One of the things that’s prompted this bit of live writing is my desire to reach 100,000 words. As I type I can see the word-count at the bottom of the screen and it says, hang on, I’ve got to catch it unaware because of course it will increase as soon as I type in the number: The number of words that are in this book so far is 98,951 (including the number 98,951), but of course it’s more already – it’s relentless, nothing really stops, everything changes.

It’s a bit like that with life – as soon as you think you’ve got a handle on it, the second you think you’ve got it sussed – it changes, it becomes something else, that’s one of the consequences of getting older, you lose the certainty of youth, and when I say youth I don’t mean childhood, I mean adulthood, from your early twenties or whenever it is you feel as if you’ve grown up at last, all the way through to old age in your sixties or whenever it is you feel as if you’re old.

Continue reading “A visit from The Magic Elf”

Blodyn – Legalise Poo

Here’s a painting from nearly 15 years ago – one of the first I did. It was painted on the back of a placard/protest sign that I had previously used in a satirical community play I wrote called ‘The History of Llangennech – Part 2’

Blodyn has become a bit of an icon for me since I painted her. She was used on the cover of my poetry collection “The Words in Me” and will be used again on the cover of my new collection “More Words in Me” due to be published in a couple of months.

Here she is:

Blodyn – 2002: Acrylic on board: 520x670mm

And here’s the back of Blodyn

Legalise Poo

Stacked Vegan Pizza

I fancied making a pizza the other day but was fed up of those pale lacklustre crusts available from supermarkets so decided to make my own dough.

I chose wholemeal bread flour and quick yeast since that’s what was in the cupboard, made the dough and used half of it to make a pizza base, rolling it out into a large rectangle to fit the oven tray. I made a round loaf with the other half of the dough.

Unfortunately the pizza base didn’t rise and then I burnt it in the oven – probably because I’d flattened it too much with the rolling pin and cooked it too quickly.

The bread turned out lovely – and a tasty, if dense, loaf emerged. So I cut that into rounds and used them as pizza bases.

I made far too much topping, stacked it on the rounds of bread and baked it slowly until the cheezly made an attempt at melting.

Ingredients

Tamari-marinated taifun tofu fried in olive oil
red, green and yellow peppers
pimento stuffed green olives
artichoke hearts
tomato puree
onions
garlic
sliced aubergine
birds eye chillis
white cheddar cheezly
spicy salad leaves from blaencamel farm on Riverside market
sliced chestnut mushrooms
salt and pepper
homemade wholemeal ~~pizza bases~~ bread

Cute Rescued Animal or Food?

The hypocrisy of the animal rescue industry

Whenever I see appeals for money or support for animal rescue charities the first thought that comes to my mind is ‘What do they feed the animals they rescue?’ I suppose in the case of naturally vegetarian animals the answer is vegetable material of some sort, but what about carnivores like cats, or omnivores like dogs?

For example, just today, on a vegan Facebook group someone issued a plea for donations to save a charity in Cwmbran, apparently if they do not get funding they may have to kill the hundred or so animals in their care since it costs £5000 a week to run the place. According to their website the list of animals they look after includes: Horses, Shetland Ponies, Sheep, Goats, Pigs, Chickens, Ducks, Geese, Ferrets, Guinea Pigs, Rabbits, Rat, Cats, Birds and Dogs.

Now, excuse me if I’m being daft but don’t cats eat birds and ferrets eat rabbits?

They also say on their website that one of their staff has an interest in ‘goat husbandry’, which is the keeping of goats in order to harvest their milk and meat. They are also planning a horse tack sale, which I presume is equipment used to control and abuse horses?

On the same Facebook group I recently asked the organiser of the so-called Welsh Vegan Festival, why is it that the Farplace animal rescue charity they are raising funds for keeps rescued chickens yet has included dog food containing chicken meat on their Amazon wishlist. He ignored me.

So how about this animal rescue centres – feed the rescued carnivores with the rescued birds and rabbits, and a bit of sheep, or pig, or horse-meat if you like – that way you would have a lot less animals to look after and you wouldn’t have to raise so much money to buy them food.

Win win!

St David’s Day in Wales

This is a piece I wrote this morning, on St David’s Day. If you would prefer to listen there is an audio recording at the end.

If you believe the hype, the Welsh are rugby-obsessed lamb-eating choristers. As with most lazy stereotyping this is completely wrong of course. I’m as Welsh as they come and I don’t like rugby, lamb or male voice choirs. It’s not just me though, but most Welshies are too afraid to admit it. For example, a friend persuaded me to go to a rugby international in the Millennium Stadium a few years ago, to see a match involving our Celtic cousins Ireland. Because of a ticketing mix-up I ended up sitting next to strangers in the upper hinterlands of the stadium. Continue reading “St David’s Day in Wales”

Half-Baked Potatoes

These are golden crisp outside and creamily soft inside.

Cut baking potatoes in half along the length so that you have two flattish halves

anoint with veg oil and sprinkle with seasalt.

Place the potato halves flat side down onto a baking tray, cut a little cross in the top bulgy bit and bung into a fairly hot oven for about an hour. Turn now and again to ensure they don’t stick and cook evenly.

The pomegranate seed

I cut open a pomegranate and popped its seeds into a white bowl. They were vibrant and red, they glistened and said: look at us, look at us; we’re beautiful. Look at how we sit together, blush together, live together, give together. I had to agree; they were what they said they were.

What about me? a little one said. Look at me, am I not beautiful too? Am I not vibrant? Do I not glisten? The red seeds smiled, and embraced. I laughed, and ate the bloody lot of them.