Here’s a question: where in London can I buy kosher salt? This, for the uninitiated, is the type of salt that’s used to extract blood from animal flesh during kosher butchery. It’s not kosher in the sense that its production has adhered to the guidelines laid down in Torah’s Book of Leviticus, because in that sense, nearly all salt is kosher, even the ordinary table stuff.
I hope that’s clear. Anyway: if anyone knows, let me know.
Two interesting things happened to me this week.
1. On the roof opposite my window at work, I watched as a seagull ate a dead pigeon. If this were already not a startling enough example of Mother Nature at her most macabre, the seagull was adding to the sense of dementia by gleefully ripping strips off the dead bird and flailing them around in the air, blood and sinew spraying out in an arc. Lovely. Bon appetit.
2. I became a proper author. Not that I have anything published yet, of course, apart from a brief paragraph on the unlikely use of special-needs children as entertainment at last year’s super-bowl, but I still feel I can safely make the claim. Why? Because alongside P.D. James, Martin Jarvis, Bill Bryson and Hugh Fearnley Whatshisname, I’ve been given my very own author’s page on the website of esteemed literary agents Greene & Heaton Ltd. G&H describe their authors as being “prominent in their field”, which I figure must make me an expert in the ways of kitten cuteness.
But then you probably knew that already.