Fake artichokes and a ball

One of the things I got on Sunday was a bag full of Jerusalem artichokes. It's an excellent gift when you're about to go on leave, but the only problem is that I know next to nothing about them, so I read up.

Apparently these little chubbies have nothing to do with Jerusalem, and they're not artichokes either. When they're blooming, they look like sunflowers. They're not high in starch compared to other roots, contain no fat, but 10 percent of protein and a high content of vitamin B, phosphorus and iron. Yes please. I think they'll be perfect for roasting with new potatoes, lots of garlic and feta cheese.

Apart from cooking and sleeping I'm gradually adapting the flat to fit my lifestyle and this is my new office: living room floor, couch table/dinner table and pilates ball. The ball is heavenly right now, it saves me from a lot of backache.

I'm imagining that I'll sit here with my home-baked rolls and coffee pots and write the next bestselling crime novel during my time as a milk machine - or perhaps not. If I'm lucky I can keep doing a bit of freelance stuff, win wordfeud and probably perform some bursts of ball exercises when I'm on the edge of going mad, which I already am by the way...

Things that would keep me sane:

1. heavy squats
2. heavy deadlifts
3. soft boiled eggs would be nice for a change

4. getting drunk