it’s not something i would have considered before but being pregnant makes most office furniture ridiculously uncomfortable to use. my once bouncy chair feels like a block of wood and my screen and keyboard have been pulled forward cm by cm over the past few weeks until i’ve had to admit that soon i’ll be facing a situation where my forearms have no desk left to support them.

a university in ever-practical canada has come up with the butterfly board to accommodate bumps:

not beautiful i’ll grant you but enormously desirable all the same.

cyclist, and quite possibly a crazy man to boot. on a trip to barcelona this year i brought back a small gift for him from one of my favourite shops, vinçon.

maybe i should have pointed him in the direction of their sales picture as he doesn’t seem to know what it’s for.

typos can be fun. when you’ve got a deadline of yesterday and the better part of a 200 page guideline to read through, you might think otherwise. this one will probably disappear soon so i’m saving it now as i’m rather fond of it.

i thought i’d better get back into this blogging thing now that we’re through a major period of testing servers and other technical wizardry that i shan’t pretend to understand.

i have been busy in the short hiatus, creating a surprise child, due for delivery to the world early in the new year so don’t be surprised if future blog entries are weighted towards why victorian properties in london were not converted with single mothers in mind or finding buggies that are designed to support baby’s back as well as mine (most pram manufacturers seem to think all mothers are under 5 foot tall).

anyway. so we’re back. the boys have been busy adding such stuff as to test my ability to learn new things, but mister lewington of digital london is rather good at explaining so i now know that tags are like ingredients. huzzah.

last month in the studio we had a visit from the easter bunny’s cousin - sinister cyril - who set up camp with a basket of hard boiled eggs and the demand that they be decorated for his pleasure.

we all agreed that cyril was a bit scary, but he was nothing compared to one of the pieces of ‘egg art’ found nestling in the grass come good friday. nice.