As a reporter at the Haringey Independent for nearly three weeks now I feel it's about time I take the plunge and write a blog.

Never having written a blog before, I must say it's a daunting task. No longer relying on facts, figures and quotes on which to form a story, instead I have to dig into the recesses of my mind for ideas; a scary thought.

I would like to share with you the unusual position I hold at the Independent. Not only do I work in Haringey, but I also live here. And no - I’m not telling you where exactly.

I must admit that when I used to commute from one borough to another to work, I found it very hard to connect with Haringey. I would sit nose to tail in traffic through Green Lanes and Seven Sisters morning and night without really knowing, or needing to know, anything about the places I was driving through.

I now happen to think that’s a really sad thing. Obviously it was my choice to live and work in different areas of London but I slogged the daily commute without even thinking about what I was missing each day.

Instead, I now find myself habitually wandering down the road for a loaf of bread and glancing at passers-by, wondering whether they've got a story to tell, and how I might write about it.

And in just three weeks I have found that most people do have a story to tell about living in Haringey, whether it be good, bad or indifferent. And being in the business we are in, we are always on the hunt for a story; something to expose the inner cogs of the place we live in and often work in.

So if you do happen to pass me on the way to buy my loaf of bread, do stop me with your stories. You never know, your tale of woe or joy could end up appearing in the Haringey Independent.