The risk

I often worry about whether I am making the best of my life.



Looking back, I've lost so much time feeling bad about time I've already wasted.

I've decided I don't plan wasting another second letting my guilt snake eat its own tail.

The Joy of Jams

There's a French deli in town. I used to find it hard going in there on account of the airborne cheese particles, which like neutrinos seem to reach you before the deli door is even open despite that being physically impossible. But they've contained the stinky cheese behind a glass screen and now I like going in there quite a lot.

I prefer to go in there when I don't have any cash on me, so that when the woman tells me she will charge me fifty pence for any card transaction under a tenner I can economise by making up the difference with jars of peculiar jam and tins of haughty French artichoke hearts. The artichoke hearts are more expensive than the supermarket version, but they also don't have that weird gritty texture around the stem which requires you to exfoliate them like ageing elbows.

Recent jams have included Sour Cherry, Quince ('Coings!'), and Rhubarb. The rhubarb jam is especially helpful because I have developed my second-ever crush on a cake.

My first ever cake crush was the tarte au framboise, ideally in a dark chocolate lined pastry case. But like so many things in life it becomes tainted with the memory of the person with whom you shared it, and now I'd rather eat a toasted slug and sawdust sandwich. But Marks and Spencer have created a swiss roll aka roulade which has a rhubarb and custard filling in it instead of jam and cream.

Rhubarb and custard swiss roll. If that revolts you then you're clearly not of British descent.

I haven't tried it, but ever since I saw it in the shop I've been thinking about it. I use it as something to think about to block out the thoughts I have about
1. That little girl in China who got repeatedly run over and nobody helped her
2. Those kids in Surrey who mutilated a swan with a toy motorised boat
3. Cops going on a big game hunt in Ohio.
4. Everything bad ever which might make me want to cry on the bus

Maybe that's another reason why I'm fat. Because life is so bitter, something has to cleanse the palate.

I don't think I will ever try it. Instead the jam will do. It's never good to eat your idols.