Top Of The Pops

Lor luvaduck, finding time for this blipping malarkey is proving tricky at the mo' - taking the pictures is one thing, making time to blip them is another. Incidentally, nearly made the title of this one "Just popped out", referring to an incident in an episode of Alan Partridge - all this lateral thinking will be the end of me.

Edit - as promised, the edited text. Hope my hectic week (and I haven't even mentioned work!) excuses the hiatus in blipping (I've filled in the gaps now, so if you've really nothing better to do you can catch up with me).

This morning was another "Oh God" moment. My parsley, planted at the same time as my basil, is now looking mighty fine (although the basil smells far more gorgeous, it's not enjoying the return to cooler weather). So much so that I thought I'd maybe blip it.

Now, I have to admit that on occasion I can be found in my flat 'as nature intended'. This is because I am easily distracted and from time to time, mid-change (say between work and jogging, or shower and dressing), I will get side-tracked and end up in the all-together for longer than initially anticipated. Too much information, maybe, but I've said it now.

You must understand that I have made sure that there is nowhere in my flat where this accidental naturism is in any way capable of putting anyone off their cornflakes - I am splendidly secluded. Except...

The only neighbour who in any way overlooks my flat has a vantage point limited to a tiny sliver of my bedroom, where they could, if they wanted to, gaze at me from about the ribcage up. They are almost never in when I am tending to my herbs or otherise pottering at my window, so I don't think we've ever both been in a position to make eye contact.

This morning, as I knelt at my window (yes, you've guessed it, a little on the nude side), I had the camera to my eye taking said shots of parsley in rude health. I suddenly sensed movement in my neighbour's room, and became horribly aware that, as she glanced out of her window, all she would see was the tousled hair and bare shoulders of a man, apparently crouched naked, with a camera pointing in her general direction. Oh... my... God.

What made it worse was that the wall that divides my courtyard from hers is just about the right height to obscure the plants on my windowsill! Rather than suddenly leap up and hide, I tried to make "Obviously I'm Taking Pictures Of This Parsley" movements (and I may or may not be naked while I'm doing it) - while at the same time thinking "OK, I'm in the Borders - who the hell takes pictures of parsley? Naked?" As soon as I thought it was safe, I quickly shimmied out of view and donned a T-shirt, and then theatrically watered all the plants on the windowsill, re-arranging them with bold, sweeping, higher-than-strictly-necessary gestures.

I think I got away with it.