I can't actually use it at the moment because Prog Rock is asleep in there, so I am sitting at Lashes' desk, on a tiny, hard, Ikea spinny chair, surrounded by Lego, mangas, Nerf pellets and discarded socks. It is horrible in here, horrible. I also suspect there must be a bag of rotting conkers in here somewhere, given the smell.
Even so, I thought I might tell you what's on my tragically inaccessible new (ish) desk.
This was a gift from my adoptive gay son (go and look at his beautiful website, I have just spent twenty minutes clicking around it dreamily). It is a small fragment of a Grayson Perry pot in a sort of reliquary. I completely love it, it is almost as good as an ACTUAL DRIED OUT SAINT'S FINGER in a reliquary, which would be my dream possession (along with a miniature Shetland pony).
These are the only books I felt I really needed on my desk at all times. There is a stack of ancient, orange spine Penguin PG Wodehouse next to the desk too, but there were too many to actually fit on it.
This tin - now full of boring cables and other techno-rubble - was the cake tin of my childhood, so I can almost taste the jelly diamond topped lemon curd sponge when it catches my eye. Look, you can still see traces of sellotape from the last time Prog Rock made me a birthday cake and carefully transported it across the channel in a Sainsbury's bag for life. I love the pattern, love love love it. It reminds me of my mum's Biba babydoll nightie, which was like that, but trimmed with a wide band of black lace. We never saw her wear it, it lived in the cupboard admired and occasionally taken out for fancy dress, a relic of a time long before we existed.
My great friend Violet gave me both of these beautiful birds at various times. She is the best present giver of all time. The big Palo Samko bird, I had coveted for a million years and stared at daily on various deco websites. The little fat bird, who is beautifully round and heavy and sits in your hand in a very comforting way, is made out of Thames clay.
My mug came from the Cotswold Farm Park, which qualifies as one of my happy places, filled as it is with furious goats and small strokable things. The stapler, well. it is a stapler with eyes, I'm not proud, but I do like it.
The glass puffer fish has no special significance, it is just a tiny glass puffer fish from the local hippy toy shop, where Fingers does cutting and sticking classes on a Wednesday. I have been repeatedly ruined by that place and its desirable tiny fripperies. There was an owl too, but I'm not sure where it went.
While I was sorting my desk out (proxy for work), I found something Lashes had made for me, which made me smile.
'Birds for mum'. It's a sort of handmade envelope, decorated front and back with cartoon birds, filled with bird stuff.
It includes "le perroket" (sic):
And these, which were on a sheet headed "Fout du scait", which is a very approximately spelled "Mad skaters". I love them.
My boy knows what I like. Also, it reminds me of Albie the Skateboarding owl, which is how I met B, when he sent me a link to this ridiculous Folkestone-based, low speed avian comedy clip.
Ok, I hear Prog Rock stirring, I am going to try and reclaim my space.
What do you have on your desk?