Things that are living, or have lived or will live at some point probably, if conditions are right and I can get that perishing bunsen burner to work again.
Fiscal rebates or handsome strips of chlorophyll, it's your choice my friends. Why? Well, apparently grass is now an endangered species in our Great Britain. At the last count there were only eighteen billion, nine million, six-hundred and ninety-five thousand, four-hundred and twenty-eight blades of grass left in the wild and this number is dwindling at the rate of one a week! They haven't finished counting yet, but all the signs suggest that sand is going the same way too! Depressing, eh? Chin up mate, it's not all doom and gloom. If we all write to the parliament maybe the politics men will hear sense and listen to the voice of nature and plants and oxygen please.
I went to Hampton Court Palace the other day and ordered a Tudor Nicoise Salad in the café. They let me have the recipe. Obviously tastes were very different in the olden days, but I think it'll still get your tummies watering. Apparently instead of tinned tuna they would just chuck in old fish heads. And, as eggs hadn't been heard of yet, they just added shattered pebbles. This would be layered with onion and dry old maple leaves and tossed off with a dressing of snow and urine. Mmm, I can feel my mouth rumbling already. Tudor Nicoise everybody.
