Rediscovering Joy: Use Your Good Plates Today

The Good Plates, the Forgotten Dresses, and a Whole Chicken

Growing up, my mother kept a glass cabinet filled with delicate glassware and beautiful ceramic dishes — the kind that only saw daylight when we had guests for lunch or dinner. “These are the good plates,” she’d say. “We shouldn’t use them every day or they might get chipped.” It was a rule steeped in love, caution, and perhaps a hint of old-school hospitality.

I inherited that ritual without question. Over the years, my own “good plates” multiplied: not just in the kitchen, but in my closet and dresser drawers too. The best dresses, elegant earrings, heirloom jewellery — all patiently waiting their turn for a birthday, a wedding, or a big night out. But many of those occasions never came. Instead, those precious items migrated to the backs of cupboards and closets, forgotten like unopened gifts from a party long gone.

Then came COVID — long days at home in loungewear, and one very humbling moment of reconnection with my stuff. A pasta machine I had never used. A halter neck top I was never going to wear. A blush I’d never opened. Shell earrings from someone I couldn’t even remember. My own little archaeological dig into the life I thought I was saving things for.

So I Marie Kondo-ed. But it wasn’t really about decluttering — it was about rediscovering joy in what I already owned. I made a promise: if I was going to keep something, it had to be used. Because otherwise, it wasn’t just a waste of money — it was a loss of joy, beauty, and intention.

This shift in mindset even changed how I cook. Take a whole chicken, for instance. I roast it — yes — but then the leftovers go into salads, soups, or sandwiches. I boil the bones into a rich broth with peppercorns, bay leaves, cloves, and spices. That broth? It becomes the base of risottos, curries, and sauces. If a bird gave its life for my table, the least I can do is make it count.

Whether it’s a chicken or a chiffon dress, I’ve learned that saving things “for later” often means losing the chance to enjoy them at all. So use the good plates. Light the fancy candle. Wear the earrings. Open the blush. Let’s not wait for joy to arrive — let’s invite it in today.

Studio and artwork

Artweeks at Stanton St. John

May marks a special time of year — Oxfordshire Artweeks — and this year was no exception. A heartfelt thank you to Rowan, owner of the Village Shop in Stanton St. John, for hosting in such an idyllic and truly beautiful Oxfordshire setting.

Here’s a little snapshot of the shop window display — always a joy to create, even if the biggest puzzle each year is figuring out how to set it all up! It’s a challenge I love.

A big thank you to everyone who came along, showed their support, and took the time to enjoy the display.

Open Art Spaces at Portobello Road

It’s been a busy May! Not long after the start of Artweeks, I made my way to Portobello Road for the Saturday market at Open Art Spaces in Tavistock Piazza. It was a warm, vibrant day, full of the usual buzz from tourists and locals alike.

I had some wonderful conversations with complete strangers and met people from Spain, the Caribbean, and Sweden — a true mix of cultures and stories.

It’s a long solo journey, hauling a couple of heavy suitcases, but absolutely worth it when people stop, engage, and appreciate the stall. I’ll definitely be back… once I’ve recovered!

Finches

In the hedgerows, woodlands, and quiet garden corners of Britain, a symphony of colour and song unfolds — the finches. The chaffinch, with its rosy chest and bold white wing bars, sings a descending trill that rings through spring. Nearby, the goldfinch dazzles in gold and scarlet, a delicate acrobat among thistles and teasels. The greenfinch, more subdued but no less striking, flashes lime-green plumage as it flutters from feeder to hedge.

Rarer and more secretive, the bullfinch carries a blush-pink chest and a mournful, soft whistle — a bird of hushed woodlands and blossoming orchards. Then comes the hawfinch, the elusive giant of the finch family, with a powerful beak strong enough to crack cherry stones. Most curious of all is the common crossbill, its criss-crossed bill a marvel of adaptation, prying open pine cones in coniferous forests.

Together, these birds weave a story of resilience, beauty, and quiet complexity — a celebration of diversity in beak and feather. In the artwork that follows, they gather not in competition but in chorus, a living palette that speaks of British wildness, past and present.

Bibliophile

The House of Mirrors by Erin Kelly (Thriller ***)

Erin Kelly returns with The House of Mirrors, a slow-burning psychological thriller that explores the weight of buried secrets and the haunting pull of the past. At the heart of the story is Karen — composed, repressed, and haunted by the events of her youth — and her daughter Alice, who is unknowingly entangled in the aftermath. The appearance of anonymous notes threatens to unravel decades of silence and stability. As always, Kelly’s prose is elegant, her characters psychologically rich, and her attention to setting and atmosphere finely tuned. However, while the premise is gripping and the opening draws you in, the pacing can feel uneven. The first half simmers but doesn’t always sizzle, and some reveals land with less impact than expected. Readers looking for a high-stakes, twist-heavy thriller may find the tension a little too restrained.

Whatcha watching?!

Thunderbolts @ Curzon (****)

I am biased towards Marvel movies and Florence Pugh. And when the two come together, I can’t give it a bad review. Thunderbolts is a gritty, character-driven Marvel story that dares to ask what redemption really looks like. With a lineup of antiheroes and reformed villains, the series offers a refreshing break from traditional superhero fare. The dynamics between the team — tense, unpredictable, and often explosive — keep the stakes high and the narrative compelling. Smart writing, layered characters, and morally grey decisions make this a standout. While the pacing stumbles at times and not every arc lands perfectly, Thunderbolts delivers a bold, satisfying ride that balances action with emotional weight. A must-read for fans of darker, more complex Marvel stories.

Three hens in a boat @ Reading Rep

Three Women on a Boat sets sail with sharp wit and tender chaos, as Camille Ucan’s new play reimagines Jerome K. Jerome’s classic with a very modern twist. Ucan stars as Jay, joined by her hilariously overbearing mum and secretive gran on a hen do-turned-therapy session aboard a skiff named after the original author (with some cheeky commentary). Amid glowing pastoral scenes and lingering tensions, the trio navigate love, family, and hidden baggage—both literal and emotional. With laughs, poignancy, and even a memorable turn from Montmorency the dog, this is a river journey well worth the ride.

A word about beauty..

Beauty isn’t something we simply wear or possess—it’s something we awaken in each other. This poem is a tribute to those everyday moments of care that remind us we are seen, heard, and valued.

Making Each Other Beautiful

What is beauty?
Is it the curve of a smile,
The shimmer of fabric,
The shape we carry,
Or the sound of our voice in a quiet room?

No—
Beauty is a feeling.
It stirs when you're seen,
When someone truly listens,
When you rise into your strength.

In those moments,
You glow from the inside out.
And so, the phrase
"making each other beautiful"
Becomes more than kindness—
It becomes power.

So next time you're in that chair,
And hands shape your hair,
Or paint colour into your day—
Remember:
Someone chose to make you feel radiant.
Smile. Thank them.
And in return,
Make their day beautiful too.