The Geffrye museum is  London’s ‘museum of the interior’ and features mocked up living rooms from houses picked from different eras over the last 400 years.  Right now they also have a really well thought out exhibition on Eco homes running in the basement.  It’s not huge, but it has been cleverly designed by eco designer Oliver Heath, and showcases all kinds of household gadgets and furniture which are pioneering ways to save electricity, gas and water around the home.  There is also a plethora of information about recycled materials and products which will come in handy whether you are re-carpeting a room or buying a new rubber mat for the bathroom.

I was particularly intrigued by the section on toilets.  Little did I realise that you can flush a toilet just by pouring water into the bowl.  The water already in the bowl then flows into the ’siphon tube’, and the resulting suction drains it all away into the sewer.  Brilliant.  Consequently, as one of the beautifully printed exhibition boards told me, you can collect the water from your shower during the time it takes to heat up in the morning and use it to flush your toilet.  All seems a bit organised to me, but I’ll give it a whirl.

They also have this amazing integrated toilet and sink, which drains the ‘grey water’ from washing your hands, brushing your teeth etc… directly into the cistern, so that every time you flush you’re already recycling the water.  This is truly inspired, and also very useful if your bathroom is absolutely tiny, as ours is.

The free Eco Home exhibition runs until 7th Feb 2010, Tuesday-Saturday 10am-5pm, Sunday and Bank Holiday Mons 12noon – 5pm.  Talks, workshops and debates are also running on the theme of Eco homes throughout.

Being now 19 weeks into this pregnancy thing I find myself unable to stand up on the tube for very long without feeling dizzy.  The problem is, I don’t look very pregnant yet and being a fairly unassertive sort of person, and the tube being quite a ‘don’t look me in the eye, I might implode’ sort of place, I tend to just grab a seat when I can rather than asking people to move.  So far this has not caused me any great hardship, and I am mentally preparing myself for more assertiveness, which will no doubt kick in at the point where I won’t even have to ask.

However an interesting philosophical question arose in my head the other day.  If, after I find a seat, another pregnant woman asks me to give up my seat, then what do I do?  Ask her how many weeks she is, and if it’s less than 19, let the bitch stand?

More recently it occurred to me that this question is probably academic in any case, because pregnant women are more likely to ask the bloke with the skateboard to stand up for them than another woman who might be in the same condition.

Having thusly put the whole scenario out of my mind, I was completely bamboozled today when I was roused from my book by a bloke asking if he could have my seat.  I was confused by this, not because I couldn’t understand why he’d want one – he was carrying a toddler – but because there was an empty seat further along the carriage and I was sitting next to a young, healthy looking teenager who actually had a skateboard.  No word of a lie.

I sat, dumb for a few seconds trying to work out the politest way to say, ‘I’m actually pregnant, why don’t you take the empty seat which is 2 yards away, or ask Bart Simpson here if he would mind standing for a bit?’ but sadly failed to string the sentence together, and ended up apologetically gesturing in the direction of the empty seat and murmuring something about there ‘being one over there.’  He trudged off looking a little miffed to say the least.

Great guilt then ensued when I realised that he didn’t just want a seat, but my seat, because it would enable him to be next to his wife, who was in charge of the buggy (a buggy with a suitcase in it, bizarrely – I can only assume that the suitcase was heavier than the toddler.)

Anyway, the guilt was mainly due to my having failed to explain myself, rather than my apparent rudeness.  Had I understood the situation more quickly, I could have moved, he could have sat next to his wife and blissful harmony would have ensued.  Sadly, my confusion just made me look like some kind of feminist über-bint.  Oh well, every cloud…

It’s 5.07am, and I’m sitting, bleary-eyed at my desk, preparing to start another day at work.

Little Wilb is still sleeping, or so I gather from the current lack of activity in that general area.

Actually, tangible activity is a fairly recent development anyway, so it’s possible I’ve been imagining it, but it’s nice to think that even if I’m mad enough to get out of bed in the middle of the night, LW can make his/her own mind up on the matter.

It seems the little one is already making much more sensible lifestyle choices than Mum.

Him Indoors and I went on a lovely autumnal walk last week-end in Ashurst wood and found a couple of conkers.  We resisted the urge to drill holes in them for a whole three hours, but eventually it was that or watch Strictly Come Dancing (such is the incredible range of available activities in our house) so for the sake of the ongoing sanity of all concerned, conker wars it had to be.

And so it is that I proudly present my triumphant one-er!  And for the record, the remains of Him Indoors’ vanquished none-er.  He is still recovering, and if conkers is to follow the tradition of chess, risk and other competitive games, we will never play again.

Sadly I don’t know many seven year olds, so the chances of bumping my nut up to a seriously intimidating six-er status or beyond are slim, particularly as most schools have probably banned conker wars by now due to nut allergies.

Very excitingly though I notice that it is the World Conker Championships this week-end, up in Oundle.  If we just lived a little closer, I would definitely make the trip.  As it is though I suspect the one-er will remain on the mantelpiece for a few months to go wrinkly before being guiltily binned just before Christmas.

A basic recipe for a simple but very tasty chocolate cake, with chocolate butter cream icing, and chocolate chunks on the top.  Yum.

What could be better as the winter nights draw in but a cup of tea and a slice of cake?

Chocolate cake

serves 12

The cake:
150g / 6oz unsalted butter
150g / 6oz caster sugar
150g / 6oz self-raising flour, sieved
3 eggs
1 rounded tbsp cocoa, blended with 2 tbsps boiling water.

The icing:
200g / 8oz icing sugar
100g / 4oz unsalted butter
1 tsp cocoa
2 tbsp boiling water
chocolate chunks

Preheat oven to 180°C / 350°F / Gas 3.  Cream butter and sugar together until light and fluffy.  Add the eggs a little at a time, beating thoroughly after each addition.  Add flour and cocoa and continue to mix (at low speed if using electric beaters.)

Turn into a greased 20cm/8inch tin and bake for 40 minutes.  Allow to cool in the tin for a few minutes and then cool completely on a rack.  Slice in half to get the two halves of your cake.

Next make the icing.  Beat the butter and icing sugar together, adding the cocoa and boiling water as needed to create light, fluffy icing.  When the cake is completely cool, spread the icing over the two cake layers and sandwich together, decorating with chocolate chunks.

With thanks to Nigella Lawson for the Malteser cakes recipe, from which this is adapted.

This pretty gaura is the only thing I can find in the garden worth photographing at the moment.

The tomatoes, raspberries and strawberry plants are all looking distinctly sorry for themselves, and the garden is generally in need of a bit of TLC.

There’s something about living in a first floor flat which makes it difficult to get into the garden sometimes.  Clearly in reality this is just laziness, but having to descend a staircase, wander through downstairs neighbour’s garden and then pause on the threshold of the garden checking for cunningly spun spider webs at eye height puts me off going down there as often as I should.  This is really rubbish of me, because I spent the first three years of my life in London wishing I had a garden of any description, so to now abandon the poor thing is really just inexcusable.

Wilb, on the other hand, seems to spend more and more time in the garden.  Mostly sitting on top of the compost heap, partly I think because it has a nice bit of carpet on top of it, and partly because it is probably pumping out heat as it decomposes all my grass cuttings etc…

Self-berating aside, I also think I might adopt Gill’s brilliant no-internet-Tuesdays rule.  Not that I spend a lot of time doing anything on the internet, but it does seem to hoover up a lot of my time, despite my not actually doing anything on it.  That would surely leave more time for gardening, and making cakes for my new cake stand.

It is the most ludicrous thing in the world, but cakes look amazing in it, and this entirely justifies the impulse buy last time I was in IKEA (of all places.)

Incoming!  I am delighted to announce that a new addition to the citybumpkin family will be arriving in March.

He/she is currently the size of an avocado.

Wilb is so far blissfully unaware of her forthcoming demotion, but we have advised her to make the most of having a nice, quiet flat to herself for another six months.

I mentioned a little while ago that a fox cub had fallen through the roof of my greenhouse.  This sounds rather alarming, and caused some consternation on the comment threads, so I thought I should clarify.  My little garden is all of 16ft square, and backs onto a 12ft, ivy clad wall, over the other side of which is a large car park.  On top of the wall live a couple of beautiful young fox cubs, who scamper out of the ivy and along the wall every time I venture out of my back door.

I was a little worried that they would scare Wilb when I first noticed they had taken up residence, but so far they seem to live in harmony, and Wilb of course rules the roost, so I am happy enough for them to stay there for now.  However, they have a rather messy dismount from the wall, due to the fact that it is 3 or 4 times higher than anything they should really be jumping off.

Consequently one of these dismounts resulted in the poor creature crashing through the plastic roof of my greenhouse.   It is only really a plastic sheet rather than solid plastic, so I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t have hurt itself too much.  The greenhouse may in fact have broken its fall, and prevented the poor creature being speared by a raspberry cane.

Their methods of getting back onto the wall involve jumping up a 6ft fence, and then from the fence up another 6ft onto the wall.  This often requires several attempts and is highly entertaining to watch from the kitchen window whilst doing the dishes.  Who needs television?

Anyway, I noticed one of them practicing this technique a week or so ago, and managed to scramble the camera just in time.  Thought I would stick it up here so you can see my resident wildlife.  Now I’m never going to be able to set up with urban chickens am I?  Sigh.

Apologies for a slightly dodgy shot with intruding clothes line, but the cub would definitely have vamoosed by the time I got outside, so a pic through the window was all I could manage I’m afraid.

Last Sunday saw the second annual Tooting Foodival, arranged by Transition Town Tooting.  TTT aims to

“…bring together the people of Tooting and surrounding communities to develop a plan to transition to a life beyond our dependency on oil.”

Practically, this means lowering the collective carbon footprint of the town by encouraging greener modes of transport, food growing groups and re-skilling workshops.  There are even rumours that Tooting may get its own currency before too long.  I have been deeply envious of the ‘Brixton pound’ and it would be great to see T£ as it will be known enabling residents to keep trade flowing through Tooting’s local businesses.

The Foodival kicked off with a ‘Food walk’ which I was unfortunately unable to attend, followed by a Food Fete in Fircroft school.  Here there was free food cooked from home-grown Tooting fruit and veg, an urban beekeeper (very distressed about vandals who have been throwing bricks and logs at her hives), and the great Tooting pudding competition, which featured some amazing looking puds which sadly weren’t on offer to the punters, although perhaps they were dished up after the judging.

Kids were getting involved making creatures out of locally grown vegetables, and Ting Ting Tooting were there fixing bikes and promoting cycling in the area.

It was a beautiful September afternoon, and everybody seemed to be having a great time.  It reminded me that I had meant to go to some of the TTT meetings, so fingers crossed I will get to one before too long.

It might seem impossible that an area as urban as Tooting can possibly embrace low carbon ideas, but the TTT movement is growing all the time, and steps have already been made in the right direction.  If it can be done in Tooting, it can be done anywhere!

The Alternative Kitchen Garden - an A-Z

Emma Cooper has transformed her ‘ropey old lawn’ into a bountiful kitchen garden complete with orchard, chickens and a huge variety of fruit and veg.

This book documents that transformation, and also provides a very useful A-Z with information and tips on how to grow all kinds of fruit and veg in the modern kitchen garden.

Emma’s enormous enthusiasm for gardening shines from every page in this book, and it is inspiring to read about her journey, complete with ups and downs, successful crops and downright disasters.

This book is a great addition to the city gardener’s bookshelf.  Emma has space restrictions to contend with, as well as some very innovative solutions, including the construction of a unique ‘grow-dome’ in which she grows the plants which would be confined to a dodgy plastic greenhouse with a broken roof where a fox cub fell on it (seriously) in my garden.

It is great to read about her adventures, and she is of course on my list of heroes having successfully accommodated her two chickens, Hen Solo and Princess Layer into her garden and of course her life.  I will get there one day!

Emma’s brilliant blog and podcasts can be accessed here.