Everyone has got a little excited about kale. Every time I write about it I get stacks of emails. So I thought I’d post a great kale pesto recipe. Healthy as. And you can freeze it...which I’m radically into right now.

There’s a lot of recipes out there. I like this one.

1 bunch kale
2 Tbsp hemp oil
1/2 cup sunflower seeds
2 Tbsp fresh basil
1 lemon, juiced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 tsp Celtic sea salt

Add the ingredients to a food processor and whip with an S-Blade until finely chopped.

This one for quinoa with walnut kale pesto from glutenfree girl also looks good.

I love patterns. I get a kick out of arranging the accouterments on a cafe table (sugar dispenser, fork, napkin) in lovely stabilising shapes. I’m not a neat freak. I just like patterns and seeing if things can be placed more pleasingly. Which is why I whooped when I found things organized neatly.

It simply posts pics of things placed “just so”. It’s a delightful human quirk…this need to order things artfully. And I like how certain things appeal to us more…like having a thicker border at the BOTTOM of a painting than at the top.

I like arranging rolled up sugar packets and beer labels in patterns on bar tables. You?

This week I clear for myself some space.

On Tuesday I was walking to the post box while talking to my accountant and reading an email attachment on my phone. I passed an old lady in a pink beret sitting at a bus stop. Just sitting in the sun. Fifteen minutes later, she was still sitting there, staring into space. She wasn’t compulsively filling the space with music or texting or twittering. Or, to be generationally appropriate, knitting. She kept her space a vast, unhindered void.

I’m not sure if it’s because it’s become a tired cliché, but “time poor” just doesn’t quite cut it in summing up the collective yearning these days. Instead, I’ve noticed we now all ache for “space”. Space is something my generation hasn’t had since we hung out in sandpits building racetracks for our HotWheels.

This week I played with this ache. I mean, it’s not something you can go out and buy, or bottle. You have to play with it conceptually.