The exploding egg

I tried to microwave a hard-boiled egg yesterday.

Ah. I can see half of you widening your eyes in anticipation, perhaps even starting to chuckle.

Yes! Okay! I know! I actually did kind of know about exploding eggs in microwaves. I just didn’t know enough. I had peeled and broken my egg in two unequal parts, with the yolk showing, and I thought that would make it okay.

I thought wrong. The smaller part of my egg exploded all over the microwave with a loud, scary bang after about 40 seconds. I don’t know how the average person usually reacts to such an event, but my first thought was, “OMG how much cleaning is that going to be?!”

About 10 minutes’ worth, is how much. There was egg white everywhere. Top, bottom, left, right, front and back. Tiny little itty bits of egg white splattered all over the walls of the surfaces, each bit claiming its own square inch. Luckily the yolk was still intact because it’s my favourite part!


Comic: Microwaving an egg


This morning, I googled how to reheat hard boiled eggs (because I still had more cooked eggs in the fridge). The advice is: Pour boiling water over your eggs and cover for 10 minutes.

Then what is the point of making extra eggs to eat for breakfast!

Sorry, I’m having a rant. I thought I was being clever cooking up three days’ worth of eggs in advance so I could save time cooking them the next two breakfasts!

In the end, reheating eggs takes as long as cooking them from scratch, whether you take the microwave route or the sensible boiling route!!

I could cover my eggs with a microwave lid so it wouldn’t make a mess, but the bang scares me, plus I read about eggs exploding into people’s face while they’re trying to eat them.

Oh, HAHA. I just suddenly remembered I wrote a piece of poetry about omelettes 13 years ago. It’s my Ode to a Leftover Omelette. Read it here.

(If you don’t want to read the story explaining why I wrote it, just scroll all the way down to the bottom.)


Ode to a Leftover Omelette


Do you think I have a future as a poet, if not a cook?



The kind of dog I love — #9 Saves his poo


Saves his poo


Piers says my Basil cartoons are getting gross. But it’s not that gross, is it? It’s life! It’s all part of having a pet!

I told reader Pepper last week: When we love someone or something, we have to love them warts and all.

But I must admit that it’s much easier to love someone or something when you don’t have to put up with their poo every single day of your life. Basil is not my pet; he belongs to Piers’ parents and I babysit him occasionally, so it’s all very easy for me.

I might get truly annoyed if I had to deal with him pooing in batches every single day! (But he doesn’t really do it all the time, just occassionally.)

Okay, I’m going to Mallorca this weekend so there might not be a comic next week.

But we’ll see. I’m a very play-by-ear(-and-mood) person!

Love me for that if you love me at all!


Previous chapters:

#1 Won’t play fetch

#2 Jumps on your lap

#3 Follows you everywhere

#4 Barks at nothing

#5 Gets too excited

#6 Has strange taste buds

#7 Sleeps on your bed

#8 Sniffs inappropriate places

My boyfriend the defender of bugs

There is a spider in my bath tub. Brown, about an inch in diameter including the legs.

The moment of discovery happened when I was brushing my teeth and at the same time reaching across the bath tub to get my facial wash.

Shock. Adrenaline. Freeze response.

In my lesser past, I would have, after the cursory freeze, jumped, screamed, violently dropped my electric toothbrush on the spider and swallowed toothpaste, all under a second.

It was only two years of spider-desensitisation training in England that prevented this most inconvenient mishap.

Yes, there are a lot of spiders in England and I’ve had to learn to put a lid on the drama.


Mad girl alert!


Or maybe it’s only in Piers’ flat that there are a lot of spiders. I can’t say for sure. I think spiders love him because he is their knight in shining armor.

He rescues them from hyperventilating lunatics who hurl heavy toothbrushes at them. While at the same time pretending to be the gallant knight to the damsel in distress who is scared of bugs.

Men are skilled at taking accidental credit when one offers itself up. It’s in their DNA to ensure the survival of the alpha male ego.

But, seriously, I am convinced that Piers cares for bugs more than he does me, although he would never admit it. Look at this text exchange and tell me I’m wrong.


Casually chatting about spiders


Like any knight in shining armor worthy of the holy grail, Piers has his sword and shield to champion his bugs. Except his sword is a cup (not at all holy) and his shield is a torn piece of cardboard.

The bug cup used to be our rice measuring cup but I banned it from re-entering the rice bin after he used it to rescue a moth. So the cup found itself a new job in the bug chivalry industry.

The torn piece of cardboard used to convey instructions for cooking a dish of slow cooked beef and three bean chilli in a rich tomato and chipotle sauce with rice. I suppose it still does that job but no one appreciates it in that role anymore.

It now serves as a roof to shelter destitute bugs until they can be released to the safe outdoors where deadly flying toothbrushes do not occur with alarming frequency.


Piers' sword and shield


Perhaps the cup and the cardboard enjoy their new, very noble jobs. Perhaps, perhaps.

It’s good to give our household items a fulfilling sense of purpose.


Have no fear, Sir Piers is here


Piers, defender and saviour of bugs, I’m sure, is very fulfilled.


The bath tub spider says hi
The spider in the bath tub.

The kind of dog I love — #7 Sleeps on your bed


Sleeps on your bed


I can’t believe I’ve done quite so many of these Basil comics already.

Okay, seven strips is pathetic if you’re thinking about proper comic strips by proper cartoonists, but I’m not a proper anything and I never set out to draw comics in the first place.

(Although I did draw a bunch of comic strips for my teaching journal during my Montessori training last year, and I might share them when I run out of material for Basil comics.)

My original idea for a funny Basil post was to write: “5 things I love in a dog” and draw five crappy drawings to illustrate the post.

I’ve always done crappy drawings (using a mouse) to illustrate my writings when I didn’t have any photos. And that was the extent of my interest in drawing.

Then, as I wrote the points down and I looked at Basil’s silly earnest face staring at me, my list grew bigger. Also, when I drew some initial sketches, I realised that I had to draw at least four panels each for anything to make sense.

And that’s how Basil became a series and I befuddledly became a comic strip artist (although still not a proper one).

The few of you who enjoy my drawings, thank you for reading! :)


Previous chapters:

#1 Won’t play fetch

#2 Jumps on your lap

#3 Follows you everywhere

#4 Barks at nothing

#5 Gets too excited

#6 Has strange taste buds