The 'Magic Garden' killer

Over the weekend, another potted herb plant passed away under my (apparently negligent) care.

My green thumb only seems to operate sporadically, at best. By seem freak of chance the mint is plentiful and the rosemary is thriving, the chives continue to shoot skyward and the cat grass is well attended by the kitten (what other marker of success could there be for cat grass?). Yet the basil (who up until death received as much attention as all the other plants, I'll have you know I spread my negligence equally) rather suddenly shrivelled up and died.

I'm yet to try to grow flowers, unless you count a brief love affair with the science experiment-cum-educational toy, 'Magic Garden,' as a child [For all of you who just squealed/wet yourselves with nostalgic delight, you can relive the cherry blossom glory. Magic Garden is still around! You can buy it on the internet, here, and I'm guessing also at any kid-oriented science store].

Magic Garden was the ultimate in kitsch for the nineties child . You mixed water with crystals and poured the liquid over a cardboard tree, and a couple of hours later the cardboard branches would 'flower' (some brightly coloured powdery substance that clung to the branches, apparently non-toxic) and you would have a miniature cherry tree. All together kids, in hushed and reverent tones: 'Science'. Simple, you would think. Not for this Godzilla. I went storming in with my fat kiddy fingers and prodded the thing, and all the flowers fell off and disintegrated.

But I digress. This latest lamentable loss - what will lasagna or homemade pesto be without basil! - makes me think that now is not the time to upgrade to flower growing. I'm not sure where this potted philosophy stems from, but I've always thought that responsibility is best taken on in stages. The logic goes something like this...if I can keep pot plants alive, then I can have a pet. If I haven't killed the kitten in the next decade, then I might be an okay human-mother too. Flowering plants seem the next step up from pot plants. Unfortunately I seem to have gotten a little ahead of myself, having adopted a kitten when I am still not sure how it is that I am doing in the herbs. Watch out, pussycat.

Fortunately, my neighbours seem rather more adept at the whole gardening bit so you and I can get our flower fix this Spring by taking a peek at other people's blooming success (with not a trace of bitterness or garden envy)...

An entire wall of orange flowers. Rather greedy really. They've probably taken up the entire allowance of flowers per postcode. Clearly the reason that my plants are dying.

A bit flirty really, a splash of colour peeking over the fence. I bet they are hiding all of their best blooms on the inside.

One in three.

The Hangover

Swigging cider seem like a fine idea on a Friday evening when you find yourself in a warehouse that seems to have been decorated by somebody's kitsch-hoarding, but oddly stylish, grandmother. The best of Motown and the 80s (and a strange collaboration between Norah Jones, Sesame Street's Elmo and the letter Y) plays on a dozen televisions around the space, garden gnomes with bare and voluptuous breasts leer at you, you find yourself sharing a floral armchair with three other people, and then a live band starts up on in a stage space so pink that even Barbie couldn't have dreamed it up. What's a girl to do but to take part in the delightful madness?

Somewhere between the delightful madness and being woken this morning at 8am by a friend keen for a yoga class, a troupe of devilish sprites must have crept in through my ear and had a roller disco inside my head. So this morning, I found myself thinking about all of the possible ways to undo the pain.

There are no pretty pictures on today's blog because, let's face it, there is nothing pretty about a hangover. Instead, I have pulled together a list of different strategies for coping. Obviously, none of these are good medical advice, rather the rantings of people, fictional or otherwise, who have found themselves in the foetal position more than once after a night out.

1. The traditional favourite of the masses: lots of water and a huge greasy fry-up, with extra grease. I'm told this may leave you feeling nauseous at the time, but it will be worth it.

2. My personal food cure: Toast any kind of bread you can get your shaking hands on. Butter liberally, swipe with vegemite. Pile on as much avocado as the toast can possibly hold. Squeeze on some lemon and a good grind of salt and pepper. This is a good one if your backing up for work, because it looks respectable enough to eat at your desk.

3. 'Fizzygoodmakesfeelnice'. Follow the lead of serial offender, Bernard Black, and guzzle down some fizzy good (a.k.a. Altza Seltzer) straight from the packet. Alternatively distract yourself from your own hangover with the comedy of his, here.

4. A little more hard core than Bernard? Is Withnail more your style? Do you find yourself saying things like 'I feel like a pig shat in my head', or knocking back lighter fluid when all of the drinkable alchohol is gone?. Then you will probably subscribe to the 'hair of the dog' theory. This only works if you plan to continue the bender - the new alcohol that you are taking in blocks your liver from breaking down the methanol in the alcohol that you drank last night; the break down of the methanol is what leaves you feeling so rubbish. Try a Bloody Mary for the vitamin content.

5. If you're a fan of the liquid cure but can't stomach the alcohol, the sugar and fizz in a bottle of Coca-Cola should kill the grouch in you.

6. For those bent on revenge, go the way of the voodoo. Haitian voodoo people apparently suggest sticking 13 black pins into the cork of the offending bottle to rid you of the pain. If nothing else, this should be mildly entertaining.

7. Late author, Amis Kingsley, has the last say. ' Immediately on waking, start telling yourself how lucky you are to be feeling so bloody awful. This recognises the truth that if you do not feel bloody awful after a hefty night, then you are still drunk and must sober up in a waking state before hangover dawns.'

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1101964/Distilled-Kingsley-The-late-great-author--prodigious-drinker--gives-advice-beating-hangover.html#ixzz0Osy201X4