I wish I had a spiraliser

Yes I’m back on the subject of wishing and yes I’m wishing for a spiraliser. What of it? There’s always room for another gadget in the house of profligacy. I read an article about spiralisers in a Sunday Supplement (on Sunday, funnily enough) and at first made that face – the one I usually make when the Bublé or the Kylie comes on my telly – then thought “wait a jolly well minute – this gadget is just the thing to make my life complete! I could make spaghetti out of for example courgette. Once. Then shove it in the utility room where all the dust gathering gadgets go to die. Hello popcorn maker that looks like a duck! Hello potato ricer that turns perfectly acceptable potato into maggot shaped potato! 

Actually I’ve gone off that idea already. Forget it. I almost never eat courgettes anyway. 

In Tucker related news he’s conspicuous by his absence this morning. He’s usually burrowed under my duvet at this time of the morning, bandy legs akimbo, but there’s no sign of him. I’d the offspring here last night  so he’s probably burrowed under somebody else’s duvet this morning, exhausted from a Saturday night spent dragging pants out of the washing basket and parading them round the house like trophies. He’ll be back in his rightful place tonight, being all prodigal dog-gy. 

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