A New Year

Last year, I made a point of not making any resolutions as 2021 ticked around.

But interestingly, not making any resolutions was a resolution I didn’t stick to. Asked again and again by people trying to make polite conversation, I finally blurted – after a particularly self important speech about self-improvement from the person asking me – that I was going to watch ‘Murder, She Wrote’.

Yes, that one.

Yes, the much-memed 1980s crime show starring Angela Lansbury.

And actually, it was so much better for me than all the years I’ve tried to do something to better myself that I thought I’d mention it here.

As with the person who seeded the idea, there’s this fallacy that a new year requires a ‘new me’ – as if the person we’ve been for the last twelve months is a skin we can shed. But we can’t – we take our experiences with us, and if we’re serious about improving, then we learn from them.

Both the good and the bad.

I chose a TV show to watch because it’s something I almost never do. I’ve got nothing against television, for the record – I just don’t ever feel like I can commit to epic seven-season stories, with 20+ hour-long episodes per season. I honestly barely feel able to commit to a film. That each episode of ‘Murder, She Wrote’ is entirely self contained made it feel less onerous.

I also wanted something old, familiar, and friendly. I know, I know – murder does not equal friendly. But my memories of the show are sick-days from school, curled up on brown velour sofas, stuffing my puffy face with Heinz tomato soup. Associatively, it felt safe.

Mostly, I wanted something I knew I would enjoy. It’s so easy to get swept up in the duty of improvement, in the work we do on ourselves, that we neglect the fact that pleasure can make us better people too.

Let me repeat that: Doing something that feels good can help us to do good.

This is the permission, if you need it, to put aside all the things you feel that you ‘have’ to do – whether that’s getting into shape, eating better, or decluttering – in favour of doing something you want but never allocate yourself time for.

Because I have learnt at least as much from watching a TV show about an old woman ignoring authority, misogyny, and agism, as I have from reading countless tomes on feminism.

So though my own ambition this year is slightly different – and I’ll discuss that soon – I would like to invite you to join me in doing something over the next twelve months because you want to, and because it feels good.

Pleasure in what’s already there is one of the biggest acts of rebellion against this consumerist society of ‘not-enough’ that we have.

Working-class Environmentalism by Karen Bell

I meant to read this for a really long time, but completely failed to get round to it until a few months ago.

I wish I’d read it sooner.

Working-Class Environmentalism by Karen Bell is one of the first books I would recommend anyone read if they’re new to the sustainability movement. Yes, in places is reads like a dissertation, but it deals with so much more than the usual ‘mason-jar low-physical-waste’ side we so often see.

At this point, I’ve read a lot of books about sustainability, but all of them seem very much pitched at a certain income. Even How To Save The World for Free felt as though there was an earning threshold that was a prerequisite to being environmentally sound. In the UK, where the divide between rich and poor is growing ever more pronounced, more and more people fall below this mark.

I could write a whole book about the ways in which the sustainability movement is only superficially set up for those on a lower income but thankfully, I don’t have to because Karen Bell did.

This book isn’t a work about the things that those in low income households can do to save the environment. It’s about the ways in which people who earn less are already doing more for the planet than their better-off counterparts. It’s about the disproportionate impact of poor environmental strategies on those who live in deprived areas. It’s about the myriad ways that conventional environmentalism is causing a bigger class divide – like how it’s easy to blame those who need plastic-drenched ready meals because they’re working three jobs. Or how we demonise those who rely on fast fashion prices to clothe their families because trawling charity shops or second hand sites takes more time then they have free/have internet access for. There are so many ways in which the mason jar aesthetic of the zero waste movement disadvantages all of us, but this is so seldom spoken about and almost never in conjunction with money – if it is discussed, it’s in regards to mental health and the unachievable expectations we place on ourselves in a capitalist culture.

I also feel that it’s worth mentioning – just from a ‘growing as a human being’ standpoint – that the definition of ‘British working class’ is no longer someone from a northern mining town. It’s call centre workers, care workers, and beauty technicians. It’s Deliveroo drivers, and Uber drivers. In-work poverty is rising. And poverty disproportionately impacts people of colour, traveller culture, and immigrants.

It got me thinking more about the ways in which the zero waste movement encourages a minimalist aesthetic, and how this contradicts the poverty-driven desire to hold onto things ‘just in case’. I remember listening to a podcast by Jen Gale (of Sustainable-ish fame) in which she encouraged people to stop hoarding baby clothes and school uniforms, as passing them on would prevent the need for more to be made/sold. But what if you can’t afford to replace them after you give them up? I know that saving and repairing my eldest’s uniforms has been of huge financial benefit to me – especially now that the pandemic requires that uniform is changed daily. If I needed to buy 3-5 shirts, 3-5 sweatshirts, and 3-5 pairs of trousers per child per year, that would cost well over the £100 mark – and that’s factoring in second hand, off-brand bottoms. That’s a monumental amount of money when you’re in receipt of Universal Credit. *

For me, one of the most important factors in this book was the message that if you’re living on a low income, you’re probably already living in a more ecologically sound way, than those earning more and buying ‘green’ things.

In short – if you’re only going to read one book about the planet this year, let it be this one.

*If you’re in the market for off-brand school uniform, or for logo-sweaters from around Glasgow, then Apparel Exchange are a great social enterprise offering donated goods for low prices – including wellies, hallowe’en costumes, and waterproofs.

Their landing page also specifies that : “families can […] receive free clothing from us when times are challenging.”

If you have clothes to donate, you can make contact with the team here.

I’m not affiliated with Apparel Exchange at all, just for full disclosure.

Elderberry Cordial

You’ll have to excuse the absolutely terrible photos – it’s been a mad sort of weekend. I’ve got so much going on right now, and so much to tell you about, but I didn’t want to let the elderberry season sail past without writing up a brief tutorial on how to make this incredibly tasty autumn drink.

First of all, you’ll need some elderberries. Gently remove them from the stalks and weigh them. I had 400g, so I put them in a pan with 400mls of water. If you have 700g, you’d use 700mls etc. Then, add the zest of one lemon. Use your best judgement on this one. If you’ve got a lot more berries than me, add the zest of two lemons…

I’m very lazy, so I just used a potato peeler to slice off strips, but if you’ve got a proper zester, then feel free to employ it here.

Now, simmer the lot for between 30 minutes to an hour.

Once that’s done, mash the berries as best you can to release the juices and then sieve the lot. I use our incredibly fine metal sieve, but a cheese cloth, or old baby muslin would be better. Again – lazy. Washing a cloth was too much work.

Pour the liquid back into the pan and discard the pulp. Add sugar – this should be the same weight as your berries. In my case, I added 400g because I had 400g of fruit, but if you had 300g, you’d add 300g sugar etc.

When the sugar has dissolved, pour your liquid into a sterilised bottle and you’re ready to go. I dilute this 1:5 with boiling water.

You can add a cinnamon stick at the same point I added the lemon zest for a slightly more festive flavour, but to be honest, I forgot this time and haven’t missed it.

If you try this I would love to hear how you get on.

Is it worth mending school uniforms?

The schools in our area are back in session very soon, so I thought I would dig out the uniform from last term and have a look at the condition of it. I’ve spoken before about removing stains from otherwise well-fitting items, but stains are some of the easier things to remedy.

Harder, are the little tears which result from slightly-too-long-trousers being rubbed along the ground, or from sweater cuffs being teased at with teeth during difficult sums.

I thought we’d start with a trouser leg cuff.

I started by turning the trousers inside out and unpicking the half of the cuff with a hole in it.

Here, you can see how big the hole is, and how frayed the edges are.

For the purposes of this post, I drew roughly along where I planned to stitch the fabric using tailor’s chalk. It doesn’t show up especially well, but I hope you can make it out.

It’s possibly easier to see in this photo as I’ve already started stitching. I tried to get as close to the edge as I could so that I lost as little length as possible.

Here it is, all stitched up. The raw edges will be contained within the cuff, so there’s much less risk of fraying now.

Next, it’s just a case of folding the cuff back into place and stitching it down again. As you can see, the edges of the trouser leg no longer line up, but when these are being worn, you won’t be able to see this at all.

To reattach the cuff, I used a simple whip-stitch (or felling stitch), taking care to only catch the tiniest bit of the leg fabric with the needle.

When the repair is finished, it looks like this – it’s only a little neater, but it is significantly less likely to unravel. Again, you won’t notice this mend when the trousers are worn because of how the fabric hangs over the shoe.

This is how it looks ‘end-on’. You can see the tuck, but if the difference in the way this is folded bothers you, then you can continue stitching all the way around the inside of the cuff…

Which is a repair I’ll show you on a sweater at some point soon…

Do schools use uniforms where you are? If they do, do you buy new every year, second-hand, or repair the previous ones (presuming they still fit)? What are your uniforms made of? Our logo’ed ones are all poly-cotton blends, which is far from ideal.

As ever, I would love to hear your thoughts!

Farn xx

I cycled to the train today and this is what I learned…

Firstly, I learned that I am really, really unfit.

This surprised me enormously because I’m not a very still person. Walking is still my main (only) social activity, despite the easing of lockdown restrictions, and I’ve been wandering up and down all our local hills for literal years now (formerly with a 16kg toddler on my back!). All that practice wasn’t enough though – and it wasn’t even the incline which I thought I wouldn’t manage which forced me to dismount and walk. It was a very long, very slight climb to the top of a hill.

Which brings me neatly to point two: No matter how pretty the German city bike is, 3 gears are not enough. It’s a heavy bike – two very large wheels, a nice low cross bar, sit-up-and-beg handlebars… I imagine that in the Netherlands, or parts of Denmark, or even the Fens in the UK, that it would be a perfect bike. I mean, on the flat bits, it is an absolutely perfect bike – super comfortable to sit on and very, very smooth to ride.

But this is Scotland. And we have hills. There was one point – a sudden, but sharp incline which I don’t actually notice in the car – which almost brought the bike’s wheels to a stop, even in the appropriate gear.

Interestingly – point three – it actually took the same amount of time to get to the village on the bike as it would in the car. The car has to slow tremendously for the corners because the road is super narrow and the track to our house is made mostly of holes. Because the car is low, and because I can’t hear if there’s any traffic coming over the engine, I never really get above second or third gear, whereas on the bike, I can see over all the hedges and hear if there’s anything coming, meaning that I don’t have to moderate my speed nearly as much. So, I can actually get to my destination as quickly on two wheels as I can on four. There is one very steep hill on the way there, but for the most part, it’s a road to roll down. Hence why the way home is… a struggle.

Finally, there are very few places I feel happy leaving a bike in the village. One is able to rent locked parking at the station from the council (it’s not too expensive, but for one year’s rental, I could buy a massive bike lock and park for ‘free’ for the length of my degree), or there are a handful of bike stands, but these are in places where I would feel really conscious about abandoning my vehicle for the day – the leisure centre car park, or just outside the corner shop… It feels… invasive of me, to take up space which customers might need.

Mostly though, I learned that it’s not as difficult as I thought it would be.

Some things which would make my life easier/make me more likely to keep this up:

  • I’d like to get some trousers which will be acceptable for use in the classroom, as well as on the bike. Currently, I’ve only really got large, linen confections (and an oversized pair of dungarees made from orange cheesecloth). I’d be worried about these catching in the chains. I’m not really a leggings person so I’d need to figure something out in terms of clothing.
  • I need to figure out a way to carry as few things as possible. I’m currently weighing up the logistics of photocopying textbook pages and only taking the chapters I’m working on, but that seems wasteful. I’d never planned to take my laptop with me (I don’t trust myself with it on a bike!) so PDF scans aren’t really an option either. I wonder how many books relevant to my course will be available via e-reader, and if so, whether I can get them without using That River Company.* I wonder what the best way to carry lunch, snacks, and possibly breakfast is. I wonder how to take enough water with me for the day so I don’t have to buy more… There’s only a small front basket, and I’ve got a backpack which will mostly be filled with my helmet, unless…
  • I rent one of the bike lockers at the station, though realistically, that ties me into rail travel as the relevant bus stop is right at the other end of the village. The bus is cheaper, and whilst it takes longer, it gets me into the city closer to the university. The train station necessitates a 30-45 minute walk at the other side… Good for fitness, but hardly great for studying.

Ultimately, my transport situation remains a work in progress. I will do what I can to avoid purchasing another vehicle, but the infrastructure round here does not make it easy!

Do you cycle? Do you have any hints and tips for a total beginner, tackling hills for the first time? I would really appreciate any wisdom you could impart!

*FYI: I use That River Company’s e-reader because someone was giving one away on Freecycle. I download classics for it via Project Gutenberg. I’m one of those people who refuse to buy from said River company, hoping to – and utterly failing to – make a difference.


Well…. I actually got accepted into University. As of September, I’ll be going back to school to study an MA in Archaeology.

I’m excited. Also nervous – I was 18 when I started my last degree and the difference between how I feel now and how I felt then is stark. I remember only one mature student from my time before – a lovely woman, if somewhat distant – and I’m beginning to worry that the distance she experienced was not voluntary but enforced. It’s not as though I’m going there looking to find friends – I’m very much going to learn – but I’m also acutely aware of how lonely education can be if there aren’t people to share your passions with.

But let’s focus on ‘excited’. And transport. Because I live approximately an hour and a half from the campus.

I’ll know more about my schedule in July, but if my last arts degree was anything to go by, teaching hours will be minimal. I sort of hope so, because it’s a heck of a commute to do every day!

I do have a few options. As it’s only myself travelling, I do have the freedom to walk the hour to the nearest bus stop. I can hypothetically cycle too, but my bike is a European back-braking city-bike – designed for Hamburg streets, not Aberdeenshire hills. In order to cycle with any regularity, I feel as though I would need to trade my bike in for something with (at the very least) gears in order to tackle the not-insignificant hill which leads to the nearest village. Once at the village, I can then choose between a bus and – miracle-of-Beeching-surviving-miracles – a train. The train is fast, but expensive, and I would need to undertake another hour’s walk from the station to campus on the other side, whilst the bus is painfully slow but cheaper and – ultimately – more direct.

I’ve spoken with my family about possibly purchasing a small, second-hand electric car, but I just don’t feel like the charging infrastructure is there yet – hardly unsurprising for the oil capital of Europe, but I can hope. And of course, there’s the option of the ‘banger’ – a cheap, ancient car which limps along between fixes. Hardly green or economical.

Before I go any further, I know that this is, as my husband would say, a ‘luxury problem’. I’m talking through a myriad of transport options for accessing voluntary, expensive, higher education. I could make points about how many people have to make this journey daily for employment purposes and don’t have the easy option of ‘if it doesn’t work out, I’ll just get an old car’. I’m lucky to be in the position I’m in and I fully appreciate that. It is beyond frustrating that there isn’t an affordable, easily accessible public transport infrastructure up here – arguably where people need it most due to hugely scattered population and centralised services….

But I digress. This is where we’re at.

During my first year of studies – because Covid – much of the learning will be online anyway, so I’ve pledged not to purchase a car until at least year 2, by which point I hope to have proved to myself that I can absolutely do without one.

My plan at the present time is to cycle while the weather is conducive to using my heavy, gearless bike, then walk through the worst of the winter months. In an ideal world, I’ll take the train – because I’m still a child who loves the romance of trains at heart – but I’ll inevitably end up taking the bus because money.

If I’m being entirely honest, the environmental impact isn’t the main driving force behind my decision. Yes, it’s definitely part of it, but what swayed me, was the ‘dead’ time spent on public transport. Since mobile phones came into common usage, we’ve been expected more-and-more to be ‘on’ at all times. We need to be ‘doing’ in order to be valid*. Using public transport will – for me – carve out a time in which I can’t do anything other than read. I’m still using my Nokia 3310, so I won’t have access to the internet for the entire journey, and I won’t be behind the wheel so I’ll be free to let my mind wander as I enjoy the countryside.

In addition, it’s going to help me work exercise into my day. I’m someone who very much benefits from exercise in terms of my mood, but I’m also someone who never makes space for it. Hopefully by making it a necessity, it’ll keep me going.

Obviously, all of this could change in the coming months, but for now, this is my plan.

If you’re a cyclist and you have any advice for me, I’d be super keen to hear it. I already have the helmet, high-vis vest, bike basket, and waterproofs. My friend has recommended a set of solar bike lights with a decent charge life, so I’m excited to research them. Any words of wisdom beyond that are thoroughly appreciated. I’m especially interested in how to keep my ears warm in the freezing winds which are still – in May! – bringing sleet and hale.

I’m going to get my bike out and make sure it’s all in working order then have a few ‘trial runs’ into the village. I’ll let you know how it goes.

For now, much love.

Farn ❤

*If you’re interested, Jessie Gender does a whole incredible video about the nature of work that I would definitely recommend… even if you’re not a Star Trek fan.


This is just a short post to let you know that I’m still here, doing my thing.

Which at the moment is mostly reading.

And planting the occasional seed.

The hard lockdown in Scotland following the winter holiday was compounded by a very heavy snowfall. For two weeks, we couldn’t get the car to the house, and I had to bring my groceries home on a 25 year old wooden toboggan!

The enforced hibernation gave me the opportunity to indulge in some reading and to be perfectly honest, I haven’t really stopped.

Few of these books are about topics I cover here, but I feel like books are fairly low-impact ways to entertain ourselves – all things considered…

52 Times Britain was a Bellend – James Felton
How to be Human – Ruby Wax (yes, that one)
Invisible Women – Caroline Criado Perez
Set Me on Fire – Ella Risbridger
Kitra – Gideon Marcus
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings – Maya Angelou (thank you, Msdedeng!)
To Be Taught, If Fortunate – Becky Chambers
Finn Family Moomintroll – Tove Jannson
Hera Lindsay Bird – Hera Lindsay Bird
Five Years Vol. 1 – Chris Riddell

There were others too, but I wouldn’t necessarily recommend them. Also, 52 Times… not for anyone who doesn’t like swearing…

Besides that, I’ve been spreading home-composted mud through the raised beds, and setting seeds indoors.

Last year, I blogged a lot about what was happening in our garden, and I plan to do so again, but for now, here’s a recap of what we grew over the last 12 months

For the most part, this year’s plans are just a repeat of last year’s. The asparagus didn’t make it through the summer, so I probably won’t be planting that again, and I haven’t planted nearly as many (or, in fact, any) brassicas this year. I honestly think I’m too impatient for asparagus – even when using crowns – and as leafy greens featured heavily in our CSA veg boxes (and as they’re the type of vegetable we eat the least of) I’m not sure if I’ll bother.

My old favourites are back though – peas, radishes, courgettes and carrots. They’ve all been sown in paper pots and packed in old Costco sandwich boxes (to act as propagators and which I’m reusing from last year!) so hopefully I’ll start to see signs of life soon.

There’s definitely more of a routine to this year. Even though last spring is the first time I’ve ever really done any ‘serious’ gardening, I feel as though I’ve learned enough to justify how much more confident I feel this time around.

And I have to say, seeing the peas I saved from last year’s crop start to grow is an absolute thrill. It’s so wonderful to witness that cycle first hand.

But anyways, I’m talking too much. It’s definitely time to head back to my books…

On my bedside table just now are:

Pleasure Activism – adrienne maree brown
How To be a Craftivist – Sarah Corbett
Skellig – David Almond

(Just in case you’re interested)

I love talking books (in case you haven’t guessed!) but I don’t want to bore anyone. Shall I keep mentioning what I’m reading outwith the nature/environment ones?

I’d love to hear your thoughts (and recommendations!) – as ever, you can get in touch via the comments section.

Much love ❤

Reader, Come Home by Maryanne Wolf

At the start of last year, I borrowed a book from the library called Stop Staring at Screens. Whilst it was a perfectly passable book, it wasn’t exactly the thing I’d been hoping for.

At the time, I wrote:  I checked this out with a view to learning why my youngest child is so absolutely smitten by anything with flashing lights. This book definitely doesn’t do that

But Reader, Come Home by Maryanne Wolf does, and a lot more besides.

Honestly, I’m so excited to talk about this book that I sort of don’t know where to start, so I’ll just begin where I begin and hope I’m not too incoherent.

Wolf began life as a school teacher, but became fascinated by the way children learn to read. This led her back to university to study the neuroscience of literacy – mapping out how our brains manage this incredible feat. The ability to read is something I’ve completely taken for granted until now, but seeing how many amazing things happen every time we look at a sentence really opened my eyes. It’s a skill I’m going to actively take the time to appreciate from now on!

I’ve always been an avid reader – save for a small period of time after my eldest was born, during which I had postnatal depression* – so I’ve felt the importance of books for years, but I’ve never been able to articulate why they’re incredible until now. Books can teach us empathy, Theory of Mind, critical thinking, and patience. And whilst they can’t provide the video tutorials of YouTube, they can offer a physical, tangible form of knowledge.

From an environmental perspective, this book is really important. Without studies like these, we can’t hope to understand what it is about our current technology which makes us so addicted to it, and until we can begin to look at why we’re using it in the way we are, we can’t begin to change our relationship with it – whether that’s how we utilise our phones, our laptops, or our televisions. I especially liked that Wolf encourages biliteracy – a proficiency in printed words as well as those on screen. She advocates that technology and digital reading are important tools, but stresses that…

“A flotsam of distraction and information […] will never become knowledge.”

Since reading this book, I’ve made a conscious effort to change my habits regarding the internet and the things I read online. I’ve turned off various messaging services and though I shut down my social media for other reasons, the lack of notifications definitely helps to keep my focus firmly where it should be – on the text that I’m reading. Again, for other reasons, I’m turning my internet connection off at 9pm every night, but this helps with the quality of information that I’m taking on board too. Sitting and properly reading and absorbing a book is far more rewarding that skimming past a stream of information.

And the more we know, the more in control we can be. The less time we spend online, the more time we can spend in the world, enjoying it. The internet is a wonderful tool if used properly, but it can also be a tool for those trying sell us things we don’t actually need. By making sure that we’re the ones in charge of the time we spend online, we’re less likely to fall victim to how the internet can be used against us – as a means to encourage overconsumption and feelings of inadequacy.

By return to our reading roots, we can foster feelings of empathy and our Theory of Mind – the part of ourselves which helps us understand that though we’re happy, there are people in the world who aren’t. By reading more, we hone our abilities to think critically and fight the misinformation out there. And if we can do that, we’re well on our way to making the world a better place.

Full disclosure: I actually put off reading this book for the longest time because it was written by someone with such specialist knowledge, however this is where the fact that Wolf is a former teacher really makes a difference. The way the (sometimes incredibly complex) information is conveyed is done so beautifully – even poetically in places.

Don’t feel like this book is beyond you, as I did for so long. It’s absolutely not. I pass on the vast majority of the books I read, but this is one which is going to stay firmly on my shelf so that I can come back to it again and again.

Have you read Reader, Come Home? If you have, I would absolutely love to hear your thoughts. You can get in touch via the comments below.


Farn ❤


*I still read a lot but I read to my baby – childhood favourites like Beatrix Potter, Thomas the Tank Engine, and Black Beauty. It took a long time before I was ready to tackle any adult books again.

Self Care

The last twelve months have been challenging. Yes, they’ve brought some unexpected benefits too, but for the most part, I don’t think anyone can honestly say that the past year is something they’d like to replicate – what with the death and disease and all.

As I said, I don’t intend to make a whole pile of pledges for the coming year, but I do want to focus on looking after myself. Beyond day-to-day actions, I tend not to share much of myself on here, so let me summarise the years since 2016 as having been ‘tumultuous’. The Brexit vote, the death of both in-laws, some interpersonal strife, various medical conditions, the loss of our only income (which has thankfully been resolved), and the minutiae of ‘snags’ which give any life pause, have all been packed into an eventful 48 months. And given that it appears life will continue at this slow, half-pace for some time yet, now seems like the perfect opportunity for some introversion.

Self-care is a term that I have a duplicitous relationship with. On the one hand, I understand the literal need to care for myself, but increasingly, I find that the term has become tied up in consumption. The idea that we should ‘treat ourselves’ by opening our wallets has become synonymous with the phrase.

I’m trying to look at long-term ways in which I can look after myself, alongside the ‘quick-fix’ options that a moment of particular stress sometimes merit. So, I thought I’d share some of the ideas I had here in the hopes that perhaps you could benefit from them too.

Long-term Care

  • Exercise – Everyone knows we need to move in order to keep our bodies healthy, but exercise doesn’t need to feel onerous and it absolutely doesn’t need to be expensive. If you’re somewhere with a good pedestrian infrastructure, an easy way to begin is by walking as a mode of transport where you can. If you’re in the middle of nowhere and don’t want to just ‘go for a wander’, try to work a few extra steps into your day by parking in the space furthest from the supermarket when you do your shopping (for example). It doesn’t seem like much, but it all helps. If you’re feeling more active, there are various ‘Couch to 5k’ running apps out there which are often free, but if you’re not confident enough, staying home and doing ten minutes of yoga before bed is good too. Honestly – whatever you can manage.
  • Good food – on bad days, cooking can seem like too much effort, but it’s absolutely possible to enjoy good, healthy food without trying too hard. I know they’re wrapped in plastic, but buying in some bags of frozen, roasted vegetables can be an amazing way to speed up making dinner/avoid the temptation of a take-away. I like to fry some off in a little olive oil, stir through couscous with some lemon juice and some herbs, and then have this for lunch. Or I sometimes dump the whole bag in a pan with a can of tomatoes and a can of kidney beans, some spices and some herbs for a vegetable stew. Or stir the vegetables through pasta with pesto, or heat them into a bastardised ratatouille to dip some crusty bread in. As I said, these come in plastic, but one small bag is so much better than the bevy of take-away containers which they replace. And it is possible to buy fresh, plastic free versions and then roast them and freeze them yourself for use on days when it all feels a bit much.

    Another favourite meal which is quick and easy to prepare is a root vegetable curry soup – I like to use pumpkin when I can get it but frozen carrots/parsnips/butternut squash all work well too. All you need to do is put your chosen root-veg in a pan, add a can of coconut milk, a can full of water, some vegetable stock and a tspn of Thai red curry paste. Simmer until your vegetables are soft and then blend. You can also go for the ultimate cheat’s ‘cream of tomato soup’ – a can of chopped tomatoes, a can of coconut milk, a tspn of sugar and half a tspn of salt. Heat it and blend it together. Jack Monroe’s cookbook ‘Good Food for Bad Days’ and Ella Risbridger’s ‘Midnight Chicken’* both cover this section beautifully.
  • Adulting This is the one I’m most guilty of putting off – all the admin-y bits which life in the modern world necessitates. I’m trying to keep things in order with a bullet journal this year because ticking things off really helps me. It’s working so far, and the simple act of just paying this bill, or that invoice, straight away frees up so much head-space compared to thinking ‘I must remember to do X later’, about ten times a day.
  • Learning I’m very much a believer in the old adage ‘we are never too old to learn new things’. I have had so much slow joy from learning to play my violin, and so much deep satisfaction from learning new languages that just writing about them here makes my soul feel good. Reading, studying, watching plants grow… all of these things enrich my own life so much. Even if I only play a single line of music a night, or repeat a single German or Danish phrase, it is deeply fulfilling.
  • Knowing when to say ‘no’ Whether you’re trying to cut back on alcohol, or smoking, or unnecessary spending, saying ‘no’ can take courage, especially if you’re used to trying to keep everyone happy. To make it easier for myself to say ‘no’ to spending money, I’ve installed an ad-blocker on my internet browser and I’ve unsubscribed from all sales emails. I’ve also starting turning my computer’s internet connection off at 9pm each night, so that I can say ‘no’ to unwanted interruptions in my private time. You’re absolutely allowed to do this.
  • Just because you can chose, doesn’t mean you have to We’re overwhelmed with options for entertainment these days – so many streaming services available, conventional television, YouTube, DVDs, video games, books, music… it can feel like an obligation to consume all the media that’s being recommended to us. But we don’t have to. It’s perfectly fine to watch those two seasons of Galavant every night for a month, over and over again if that’s what makes you happy. And it’s just as fine to sit and play Solitaire on the PC instead of whatever’s just come out on the shiny new PS5. In fact, it’s perfectly fine to just grab a pack of cards and play Solitaire on a table. Familiarity is allowed. We are not obligated to seek novelty.

Short-term Care

  • Bring a plant into a space Greenery immediately brightens up a room. I promise that someone you know, or someone on freecycle, will have a spider plant that they would love to give to you. Or grow something yourself, like an avocado pip. It’s totally free and incredibly satisfying.
  • Have a hot bath or shower This can be revitalising, especially if you’ve just…
  • Change your bedsheets for clean ones I honestly think that one of life’s greatest pleasures is getting into clean sheets straight after a hot bath or shower.
  • Give your feet a rub This doesn’t need to be anything more elaborate than rubbing some oil/moisturiser into the soles of your feet. It doesn’t even need to be a fancy oil – olive oil from the kitchen will absolutely do. Showing your own body physical affection can be a really powerful thing.
  • Get outside Even if you just stand in your open door/by the open window with a cup of tea for five minutes, this counts, and it’s amazing how restorative this can be. We’re so busy trying to ‘do’ things all the time, that we sometimes forget the peace there can be in just ‘being’. This is a great way to remind ourselves.
  • Listen to a song you love and if you feel like it, sing or dance or weep.
  • Bring art into the world This might mean hanging a poster, or even just a picture printed from the internet, or it could involve checking out some of the amazing protests undertaken by the Craftist Collective. It could just be mending your socks. Personally, I love drawing on envelopes. I like to imagine that it’ll make the post deliverers smile, as well as the recipient, and I get a real thrill out of drawing the things. They’re no great works of art, but art they are – honest and humble and real. And the world needs more art.
  • Choose comfort If you want to spend a night watching films from your childhood, do it. If you want to read a book but can’t be bothered with your ‘to be read’ pile, dip into something you’ve read before. I found myself reading my collection of vintage Ladybird books the other day. I spent four hours doing it and I regret nothing.

    As you can see, none of the above cost money, or if they do, it’s very little. They all aim to address quality of life without introducing more ‘stuff’. We don’t need to consume to be happy, we simply need to focus on the things in our hearts and on being kind to our bodies. In times like these, we need to nourish ourselves so that we can weather the storm. Because as much as I would like to believe that 2021 will bring beautiful, hopeful change, I can’t see that happening – at least not in the UK. As I write, towns just north of here are already feeling the crippling effects of Brexit on their ancient fishing industries. It’s two weeks into the new year, and no one can tell me yet if it’s legal for EU citizens to continue to drive on their current licences in this country… And that’s just the stress on top of the deadly, deadly plague.

    We have so far to go – we need to build our strength for things to come.

    What are your favourite forms of self care – either for the long or short term? I would love to add some more to my repertoire. I’m not really using Twitter that much right now, but you can very much still get in touch with me via the comments below.

    With much love.
    Stay strong.
    Farn ❤


*Don’t let the title put you off if you’re not a meat eater – I’m not, and there’s still plenty in there for me.

The New Year – and why I won’t be making resolutions.

My posts are sporadic at the moment. I usually try and update twice a week, and for a really long time, I did a good job at keeping up that pace.

But – as with most people – the virus has begun to shift my priorities, and my habits. I’ve honestly not been sitting down at a screen as often as I was before, so I don’t end up writing.

This is one of those very sharp, proverbial double-edged swords. On the one hand, I’ve not done as much writing as I would have liked, but on the other hand, I’ve been enjoying so many other things – a quiet Christmas, a gentle New Year, and all manner of projects which I had set aside and forgotten about. I’ve rediscovered a love of cross stitch, and of colouring-books – the later being something that I can sit and do with my children for long, quiet hours with audio books in the background.

I had planned to commit to doing at least one post per week this year, but I think, given the need for flexibility and resilience in the face of a changing world, I don’t want to commit to that. I’ve broken other promises I made to myself – to buy nothing new for twelve months, for example (something I want to discuss on here at some point) – and I don’t want to set myself up to fail.

Instead, I want to focus on slowing down – further still – and truly appreciating what is all around me. I want to spend another twelve months nurturing my garden, learning to cook new foods, reading new books, and gaining new knowledge. I’ve applied for University to study Archaeology, and if I get in, I know I’ll throw myself at my studies – one doesn’t often get a second chance to do something as big as a degree, and I want to make a good go of it, should I be lucky enough to get in.

I will absolutely continue to update here, but I’m not sure how often, or even how long for.

In any case, I just wanted to let you know what was going on and why I’d been quiet.

With much love to you and yours in the coming year,

Farn ❤