ALL IN A DAYS WORK

Crack of dawn found me making coffee for my son who had an unconscionably early medical appointment,to say that both of us were bleary eyed does not do justice to the gooseberries in syrup appearance we shared . Temptation whispered “Go back to bed.” as soon as he left but a busy day beckoned and so I began the task of waking Pa and making beds.

Breakfast , which we ate on my sons return was of hot buttery crumpets and English muffins
washed down with hot strong tea. Regaling us with the details of his check up it came as no surprise what ever that his doctor had advised him to give up working night shifts,his health is suffering and I agree with his GP , it is time to quit.

Once breakfast was over and the kitchen cleared I telephoned the computer repair man and arranged for him to come at two to have a look at the old girl, a lap top recently acquired from my some. Morning post had brought with it seventeen pounds worth of gardening club tokens so off I went to buy some plants.
Sweet peas, Pa's favourite looked good and I brought three varieties, about sixty young plants and all for just £3.98. next I purchased and assortment of six wild flower plants foe £10.00, the plants were well grown and a bargain at the price.

Choosing is never easy and it took me quite a time to decide upon Ladies Bedstraw, Salad Burnett, Cats Ear, Black Knot Weed, White Bladder Campion and Night Flowering Catch Fly., these will mix in well with the other wild flowers in our front garden. Although the layout might be said to be formal it is more in the nature of a knot garden and supports a healthy mix of wild flowers, herbs and perennials all chosen to bring bees , butterflies and moths in to the garden.

Arriving back home with my purchases I discovered that the computer repair man had arrived early and had our temperamental lap top in bits on the kitchen table, we gave him coffee, shortbread and blueberry muffins and while he worked away I telephoned the conservation group secretary with some good news. While at the garden centre I was approached by one of the staff who told me that she had quite a large party interested in our butterfly release day in April. I had mentioned it to a friend who works there and of course she discussed it with others who now wish to attend, its wonderful that so may are interested.

While the man tinkered with the lap top I made a date and cherry cake, the cake tin being ,empty and just as he was leaving another friend arrived to discuss our conservation area and the trees which we are planting there. These include a rare Black Poplar, we shall soon be placing the nest boxes and more bat boxes in the area.

Our lap top went home with the repair man to have a new hard drive fitted and will be returned on Friday evening. With the kitchen smelling wonderfully of date and cherry cake I went out to take a quick look at the conservation site and I must say there has been a lot of work done there in the past week or two.

Absolutely shattered I prepared our evening meal of bacon and eggs , grilled tomatoes. Mushrooms oat cakes and cheese, we were all hungry as breakfast had been rather earlier that usual. Warm date and cherry cake made a lovely afters and as soon as the dishes were done decided to relax for a while Pa had been asleep for a good deal of the afternoon and even my son had spent a couple of hours lying on his bed,

Since I had been on my feet all day I got first dibs for the bathroom sand enjoyed a good long soak. Now at last I can stop for the day and take it easy for a while,I did enjoy the day though, it was the kind of busy which I like, lots of fun and no real problems. May there be many more.

BLUEBERRY MUFFINS FOR BREAKFAST

Morning found us all rather more yawny than usual and as we were expecting our fortnightly grocery delivery I needed to prepare a quick breakfast, I also wanted the treat the boys to something special so this is what I chose to do.

BLUE BERRY MUFFINS

8oz plain flour
1 heaped teaspoon of baking powder
half a pint of milk
1 egg
3 tablespoons of melted butter
2 oz caster sugar or a little more if the berries look a little under ripe.


Grease a twelve cup muffin tin and line with muffin cases. Set the oven to 200oC
Put all the dry ingredients except the berries in to a bowl, put the milk egg and melted butter in to a jug and pour gradually in to the bowl as you mix. When the mixture is smooth add the blue berries and either stir in or use the pulse on a mixer. Divide the mixture between the twelve cases and bake for twenty minutes.
We always eat these little beauties while they are hot , split and buttered but they are just as good eaten cold and are a nice addition to a lunch box or a picnic.

Breakfast was punctuated by the arrival of several parcels some of which were I suspect for me judging by the furtive behaviour of the boys, I shall have to wait a while to find out what they are. Groceries, mostly dry goods arrived on time and were deal with after which still feeling groggy we all had some strong coffee....well it was worth a try!

Later in the quiet of my room I wrapped up mothers days gifts for my own dear Mam, A lovely out door clock for her pretty garden and a very pretty night gown for her to float about in, she does so love pretty things bless her.
Tomorrow my son will take it to the post office after his visit to the doctor, poor boy he is not at all well but puts on a very brave face.

Feeling a change in the air and also owing to a spill of coffee on the bed I decided to put on a different patchwork quilt. Patch work and lace and ribbon work flowers make this one perfect for early spring and as the colours are warm tones one a cream ground it still looks warm and cosy, it was given to me by Pa for Mothers day last year and I love it.

How still the air was today, not a breath of wind and although not truly warm the lack of a cold breeze made it feel so. I ventured in to the garden for half an hour,planning, as best I can where and what things will grow this season. Honey bees and a few early wasps were drinking at the fountain, it no longer has a spray but the birds and insects love it and so that is good enough for me.

Birds are foraging for nest material and all around are the sounds of their courtship and their quarrels. Able because of the fine weather to work with the kitchen door open meant that I was privy to all this up-rush of life as I prepared our dinner of roast beef, roast potatoes, Yorkshire puddings mushy peas and vegetable gravy. From time to time our tame robin would hop on tot the step to see if any tasty morsels had been dropped near by, and a female squirrel, heavily pregnant added to her considerable bulk by stuffing herself with peanuts for a full half hour!

Now the evening is here and we are all very tired, speaking for myself I have been sleepy all day and I hope very much that tonight I get some proper sleep. Both Pa and my son agreed that they have felt the same so an early night will do us all good, not to mention a long hot candle light bath. Good night everyone.

BUMBLE BEES AGAIN

How wonderful it was to wake this morning with the knowledge that we have a whole week before us to enjoy. Morning coffee delivered by my son was drunk as we happily chatting about our plans for the week ahead.

Oatcakes made yesterday on the griddle and well covered with melted Cheshire cheese constituted our breakfast after which I made the days bread. It was while we were washing up the the post bough with it my bee house, a mothers day gift from my son. Bless the boy he had arranged for it to be gift wrapped and very handsome it looked I must say.
Better than all was the fact that he told me to open it at once and site it as it is now that the bumble bees are searching for safe nest sites, I was over joyed. Many varieties of bee inhabit our gardens and last year I purchased a solitary bee house which was very well patronised.

Sighting the nest box correctly in vital and I put a good deal of though in to the final location of the box. Sheltered, south facing and close to a plentiful source of early pollen, obviously the orchard was the perfect spot. The nest box came complete with nesting material and was soon in place, tucked away in a sheltered corner of the orchard, surrounded by crocus and with the promise of much fruit blossom to come. Later there will be primroses bluebell.,cowslips daffodils and of course the huge forget -me- not bed on the shady side of the orchard by the old wall.

Encouraged by the happiness of the morning I took my courage in both hands and went off to order my compost and some bark chip for the gardens for which I have been saving up for quite some time. Although I live within less than a quarter of a mile of the garden centre they still charge between twenty and thirty pounds for delivery and no matter how much or little is ordered the cost is the same.
This makes a considerable hole in my gardening budget and I have been agonising over this problem for weeks. I had thought that I had found a good supplier a few weeks ago but further research showed them to be unreliable and so I was bock to square one.

Today I made the decision that it was now or never and had already priced the items required. Imagine my amazement when I arrived at the bark chip display to discover that play grade bark chip was being sold for just £1.00 a bag instead of three for thirteen pounds. Bark chip is vital to my garden as it retains the moisture for longer and as I find watering increasingly difficult and with a drought pending this was a gift from providence.

Fifteen bags were ordered at once and some peat free compost, also on special, for the containers. Ten pounds was knocked off the delivery charge as I am a gardening club member and I saved about sixty pounds in all. Even now I still do not quite believe my luck, it's wonderful.

Celebrating this wind fall I purchased a new collar for my little cat,a cat nip spray and for myself two stout pairs of gardening gloves, the rest of the money will be spent on plants and seed potatoes a little later in the year. Incidentally Twiggy loves the spray cat nip and is very proud of her new brown leather collar. She is very self aware and spend a good deal of time admiring her reflection in my dressing table mirror, a vain creature to be sure but then she really is a beauty.

Curled up in bed the cat in question is sleeping soundly, worn out with tumbling madly about with a cat nip sprayed toy. We have eaten our special Monday supper and each of us agrees that today has been special.
Thanks to good old providence my flower garden and the fruit bushes will be well mulched this year which is a huge relief to me.

Soon the garden will once again be filled with the smell of flowers and the hum of my lovely bee's, Twiggy will be in her tree house and with luck all the birds nest boxes will be occupied . Today I saw a Dunnock trying out one of our nesting pockets amongst the ivy. For me this is a time of mounting excitement and just a little apprehension as to my finesses for the work to come. What ever happens flowers will grow and fruit will ripen on the old orchard trees again and for which mercy I am humbly grateful.

PORK BRUNCH BURGERS

When my son is working the night shift the arrangements regarding meals can be a trifle peculiar,for example we never have a roast on his working Sunday;instead I usually do something simple and quick like these tasty burgers.

1lb minced lean pork
1 cup wholemeal bread crumbs
teaspoon of ground coriander
pinch of nutmeg
1 teaspoon of onion salt
fresh ground black pepper to taste
4 sun dried tomatoes finely chopped. The ones in oil are the best.
1 tablespoon of the tomato oil.
1 tablespoon of fresh lemon thyme chopped


Place all the ingredients in to a bowl and squash and squeeze them together until they look like sausage meat. Divide in to six equal pieces and shape in to burgers making sure that they are flat on both sides.
Cover with cling film and refrigerate for at least half an hour.
Cook on a hot griddle of in a frying pan for eight minutes each side. Serve on a bun with caramelised red onion and a little mustard or home made tomato sauce.

This mixture can also be made in to meat balls in which case fry gently in a little oil until light brown then add the tomato sauce of your choice and serve on a bed of pasta.

Avie's quick Italian tomato sauce (which is nothing like mama used to make)

1 tin of chopped tomatoes
half a tube of tomato purée 1 tablespoon of olive oil
1 teaspoon of Italian seasoning or a tablespoon of a mixture of fresh them,basil.margoram and rosemary.
Ground black pepper
salt
2 cloves of garlic crushed

Put the olive oil in a saucepan and heat, then add the tomato purée,garlic salt and pepper and heat until it is bubbling well. Add the tinned tomatoes and the herbs then simmer until it is reduced by about a third then serve.

While I am on the subject of frying I do most heartily recommend that you purchase a cast iron griddle. Food can be cooked quickly and cleanly and larger quantities and in very little oil. Indeed some things such as scotch crumpets can be cooked six or eight at a time and require to use of no oil what ever.
Mine is a basic one which can be purchased on line for less than twenty pounds and is in daily use. One side is a flat surface for pancakes ,drop scones etc., the other is ridged and does a wonderful job of cooking steaks, butterfly chicken breasts , chops, sausages, burgers of course and any kind of fish including prawns, the list is endless.

Once the griddle has been sealed, an easy process you need never wash it again, mine is ten years old and had never been washed. Cleaning the flat side is a matter of wiping with a dry cloth, the ridged side does occasionally stick a little but again it is easy to clean. When cool simply turn the griddle turn on the gas and allow the residue to burn away. When cool again brush with a stiff potato brush and the job is doe. Cooking on a high heat sterilises the griddle each time it is used, I find mine indispensable.
Just one more thing, do not be tempted to buy a non stick griddle, they are useless and do not last, Buy a cast iron one and
season it your self and it will lat for ever.

Sunday roast this week will be served on Tuesday and is to be roast beef with all the usual trimmings.lovely.

PINE NUT AND POPPY SEED LEMON DRIZZLE CAKE

Next Saturday I shall be hosting the first of many Birthday parties held here each year., lemon drizzle cake has been requested and so today I decided to have a practice run but with a few additions.

For The Cake
8oz plain flour
one and a half teaspoons of baking powder
6 oz caster sugar
Grated rind and juice of one lemon
4 fresh eggs
2 tablespoons of poppy seeds
3 tablespoons of pine nuts
3 tablespoons of granulated sugar.
Beat butter,sugar and lemon rind together until light and fluffy.
Add the beaten eggs a little at time then sift the flour and baking powder together and add to the mixture along with the poppy seeds.
Pour in to a grease ans lined 8” cake tin and smooth the surface. Then scatter that pine nuts on the top and bake at 160 oC for forty five to fifty minutes.

While the cake is baking mix the lemon juice with three table spoons of granulated sugar.

Remove from the oven and then poke holes in the cake using a cocktail stick, then spoon the mixture slowly over the surface of the cake. Leave the cake in the tin to cool.
This is one of those cakes that tastes better on the second day and is therefore perfect for picnics out door parties are charity stalls as you can make it in advance.

Sun shine and fresh air made all the difference today and I actually enjoyed my morning shopping trip. I should have dearly liked to begin work on the garden but the sharp pain which periodically grips me reminded me that I must take care for a while longer.

Twiggy our cat spent the entire day cavorting about the garden and even the foxes were seen disporting themselves under the apple tree among the trusting blades of bluebell leaves.
Looking up in to the Lime tree at the bottom of the garden I was delighted to see that our wild honey bee colony has survived another winter and that a healthy traffic was to be seen ferrying pollen from our early flowering shrubs to their depleted winter stores.

Bird song, always a feature here reached a crescendo today as each species shouted for the attention of a mate or the warding off of a rival. Underneath the damson tree a thick carpet of purple crocus are attracting large bumble bees and I shall be adding to their number as I hope to have a new bumble bee house soon. My fondness for bees goes back to my childhood when I would go out in to the garden in the early morning and pick up any bees too wet with dew to fly. I would dry them in my hands and my poor mother was frantic at first until she realised that for some reason the bees never chose to sting me.
Later I heard an old country proverb claiming that bees will never sting an idiot, it appears to be too true!

Dinner this evening was a treat for my son, Chicken club sandwiches, he loves them. And wit the chicken hot from the griddle and served with lots of salad and lovely crisp panchetta I must say that I quite enjoy them myself.

During the past couple of nights I have slept a much better than usual, I think this may be due to the feather bed, I hope so, and I also hope that when this bout of renal colic subsides I shall sleep even more soundly. Tonight I mean to leave the bedroom window open for s long as possible, I love the cool air and the night sounds of animals going about their business, spring is almost here at last.

STIRRINGS

With the first rustlings of spring the badies are once again about their nefarious business, I refer of course to the individuals who caused so mush trouble last year, His Grace, The Estate and our Local authority..

Having been prevented from building houses and a car park on what is at the moment my kitchen garden they were out yesterday with theodolites surveying the wooded shelter belt on the opposite side of the lane. Certainly this came as no surprise to me as I had predicted last year that this would be there next move.

Covert surveying of the site under cover of doing some clearing up may have seemed like a good idea to them, to us it just looked very suspicious indeed, and their doings were observed by a member of our conservation group. Our spies are every where so not a leaf falls,as they say.

Letters to the appropriate bodies are ready to send the moment there is any sign that planning permission has been sought. Wood peckers ,badgers, and some rather rare bats make their home in this small wilderness and any move to disturb these creatures would be both shameful and unlawful.
We shall need to keep a sharp look out as they have a habit of felling trees first and asking for permission later. Bringing a few grand to the Council under section 6 usually smooths over any problems, the whole arrangement is crooked if you ask me.

New members are joining forces with us and this shows promise for the future. Today we heard that H.M The Queen has donated a rare black poplar tot he local authority as these splendid trees are in grave danger of extinction, coincidentally our group purchase just such another last year and it is now growing on happily on our conservation area.

Today I put the new food mixer through its paces an I must say that it is very good indeed certainly gives my aching wrists and shoulders a rest. I made for dozen of my favourite cookies this morning in record time and they turned out perfectly. I confess that I had been worried about the machines performance but the cookies are every bit as good as usual ,I ask no more.

Bread to was needed today and so two split tins, four baggetes and a rather pretty wheat ear pattened loaf that I have been wanting to try for a while. All turned out well and with the minimum of mess. I am of course delighted.

Thankfully I am in much less pain today and feeling more like work but still I shl=all not be doing anything too heavy for qa while, my garden is beckoning and I hope to be fit to begin my spring gardening very soon.

Much net book is on the fritz at the moment and as it happens so is the lap top which I recently acquired from my son. This means that I am writing my blog on Ps's net book and although it is just a later version of mine it feels totally alien to me,I hope I can get mine fixed soon.

Pizza was on tonights menu, the base was made and frozen last week so all I had to do was embellish it with tomatoes herbs,mozzarrella, mushrooms and the usual gubins! Pizza can take or leave but my son loves it so if we must have it I would rather make it myself than buy an overpriced, under topped atrocity from one of the big pizza chains, they get worse every time we try them.

Friday is here and already we are looking forward to our week off, but first there is the weekend to plough through, still the weather is warm and the birds are singing so On with the motley, eh what?

FOR TWIGGY : A POEM

Having been oblige to take things easy today and since nothing of any import has occurred I offer a small ditty in lieu of a blog. Should you feel inclined it can be sung to the tune “Dedicated follower of fashion” by the fabulous Kinks.


She screeches here,she screeches there.
Under the bed,behind the chair.
She makes more noise than half a dozen banshee's
When she starts caterwauling you just may as well give up,
Because that cat's a total menace when she's hungry.

Oh yes she is, oh yes she is.
She'll sit upon your bed and cling like ivy.
You may as well get dressed again cause she won't let you in ,
She's a possessive little madam when she's sleepy!


She'll go outside,and catch a mouse,
Then let it loose, inside the house.
You spend the next few hours moving furniture,
While madam sits there watching you as if she thinks you're daft.
Cause she's a pesky little nuisance when she's hunting.

Oh yes she is, Oh yes she is.
There's one thing that she loves and that is tickling,
But keep your wits about your or she'll scratch your hands to bits,
Because she can be temperamental when your tickling.

You buy her food, she likes the best,
It costs a bomb, never the less.
She turns her dainty nose up most disdainfully.
The next time that you see her she,ll be chewing on a mouse,
She is a most contrary baggage when you feed her.

Oh yes she is, oh yes she is.
She sounds like half a dozen fire engines,
You've gone and locked her in the airing cupboard by mistake,
Because she sneaked in side and hid when you weren’t looking.

She's very sweet, she's very cute.
We love her heaps, though she's a brute.
she really does believe that she's a duchess,
She treats her staff like peasants, yes it's she that rules the roost,
Because she's got us just exactly where she wants us.

Oh yes she has, oh yes she has.
But we don't mind a bit because we love her.
She,s despotic but we really wouldn’t change her, not one bit,
She's such a lovely little cat and we adore her.

Avie

MY TURN FOR PARCELS

Sleep eluded me again last night, a combination of travelling kidney stones and arthritis made me restless and unable to lie still long enough to fall asleep. Fate has decreed that this latest flare up should coincide with a bout of renal colic and I can not imagine any thing worse, I would rather give birth to twins and that a fact!

Morning found me disinclined to do much and it was with difficulty that I made the days bread and cooked pancakes for breakfast, lying in bed was not an option. Earlier I had chatted with my son on his return from work,it seems that The Management are still up to their customary unfathomable tinkering, oh well I suppose that they must have something to do!

Loud ringing from the intercom heralded the arrival of my longed for feather bed, I still am not used to answering the telephone when the bell is pressed I expect it will take time. Sleeping has become problematic over the past few years and having tried sleeping pills which only worked for a few weeks, soothing music and memory foam I decided to try a thick feather bed. While I am by no means sanguine as the the efficaciousness it has the great benefit of having a one month trial period during which time I can return it if I do not find it affords any benefit to my aching frame.

Between us we managed to put it on the bed ready for tonight and at once our cat Twiggy jumped in to the middle of the bed where she sank in up to her nose where upon she curled up with a satisfied sigh and has not budged since. I suspect that their will be trouble tonight when I try to get in to bed

Another ring announced the delivery of the recently ordered food mixer,I do not say processor as I hate the way that sounds and besides this really is just a mixer. Chosen with care by my son as it was I have been staving off the advent of this latest gadget for quite some time.
Unpacking the box was fun and I must say the machine is a beauty. Bright red with a 5 litre steel bowl, a splash guard and some very heavy duty beaters and blades, not to mention a free recipe book and a rather cheffy looking spatula.

He brownies came out beautifully and afterwards all I needed to do was wash up the blow and the beater, it was wonderful. How my son, who ad been trying to talk me in to having one of these for years will gloat, he will be insufferably smug for weeks! All the same he was right and I really should have done it months ago.

Macaroni cheese had been decided upon for our evening meal, made with fresh pasta it is lovely and is so easy to do. Tomorrow I hope to feel better and if so I shall make the boys a chicken and bacon pie as they have been so good to me and very understanding about the simple meals I have resorted to cooking of late.

What ever happens I am now confident that I shall be able to continue baking and that makes me very happy and with that cheerful though I shall go and oust the cat from my bed, wish me luck!

SIGNS OF SPRING

Today for the first time this year I was able to work in the kitchen with the door open,the extra light this gave meant that I did not need to have all the kitchen lights blazing and the whole atmosphere of the room was changed.

Able to see far more of what was going on outside I noticed the female blackbird perched in the ash tree behind the house flapping her wings and begging the male bird for food. Juvenile behaviour such as this means that there will very soon be a nest full of blackbirds eggs in the darkest corner of the orchard wall.

Under the damson tree at the top of the orchard a carpet of purple crocus had opened their petals wide in the bright sun shine to welcome any stray bumble bees which happened to be passing and the very first primrose flower peeped shyly out from among the still dormant strawberry plants.

While picking some winter kale for tonight's colchannon I observed a wren inspecting the various nest boxes along the old orchard wall, there are seven I think so he will have plenty to choose from. Male wrens build four or five nests and then it is up to the female to decide in which of these her eggs will be laid. Being a fussy creature she will only mate when she is satisfied that the male of her choice is a competent builder, so the poor chap has to work very hard indeed!

Crows always nest in the tallest trees in the church yard, they say that you can tell what kind of summer it will be by the hight and type of nest they build. Some years ago I watched a pair of crows weaving plastic carrier bags in to their nest and it turned out to be one of the wettest summers ever, so it might be true.

Today they were up to their usual trick of stealing twigs from each others nests and this comic performance is well worth watching if you have a little time to spare. Last spring I watched there antic for several hours while sowing seeds in to pots and during that time the crows ferried the same couple of twigs back and forth until eventually one pair gave up. Next day however they were at it again, it is a miracle that their nest are ever completed.

Smitten as I am with rheumatism in my shoulders and an arthritic flare up in my hands I am worried that I shall not be able to manage the garden this year, if this awful event should ave her tummy tickled happen I shall fill the garden with wild flower seed and enjoy sitting in a sunny meadow, we should miss the vegetables but hopefully we should still have a good fruit crop for a year or two.

Soon it will be time to decide and if there is to be a drought this year complete with hosepipe ban I shall be doomed as I am unable to carry water in cans these days. Nothing daunted however the sun was lovely and for the first time I could feel its warmth as I inspected the flower beds for signs of life. Twiggy my little cat , overjoyed to have company in the garden ran about in gay abandon climbing trees for the joy of it and at last flopping down on the garden table to have her tummy tickled......I obliged of course.

Sun shine has a habit of showing up dirty windows and I have to confess that mine are a disgrace, my inability to reach the top panes is my excuse, something must be done however, I may have to ask my tall son to do the high panes for me.....maybe! Tall he certainly is. 6”4' in his stocking feet with long dark hair of the sort a girl would die to own and a bristling black beard, he has the look of a hero of legend, one of the Fianna perhaps, or a Viking raider. Fortunately he is also gentle and knows his own strength, he is man enough not to have to act tough to prove it and prefers to cut people down with words rather than his fists. Having said that he did give the five cowards who tried to mug him some time a go a run for their money before one of them knocked him to the ground with a chunk of wood.

But I digress, spring is effeminately in the air and I am in high hopes that with the return of warmer weather my aches and pains will lessen sufficiently for me to return to my beloved garden. There is an old saying that God loves gardeners and adds an hour on to their lives for every hour spent gardening, I do not believe this but it is a lovely thought.

TOP GEAR TRIUMPHS

When I wrote to challenge the lads to do a mobility scooter race I really did not think that they would take it on, they did and what they did was even better than I had imagine .
Building their own scooters was a stroke of genius and hats off to James May for remembering those in motorised wheel chairs.

Watching them trundle around the shops in Aberystwyth was hilarious and showed exactly the difficulties scooter and chair users face from sigh boards, dump bins and displays in stupid places. My local tesco has a lift for scooter and wheelchair users but more often that not the entrance is blocked by a display of some sort of a pallet load of stuff awaiting distribution about the shop.

Racing disabled servicemen using standard scooters was a brilliant idea and I hope was sufficient to prevent and bleeding hearts do gooders from writing in and complaining that the show was showing disrespect to the disabled. Well done to all who raced, I know those Welsh hills and they can be a bugger even on a tractor.

Finally I would like to thanks the lads for reminding people of our existence, we truly are an intrepid bunch, and for giving the car manufacturers a poke in the ribs on our behalf.
Mobility scooters are a ridiculous price when you consider that they are not much more than a battery on wheels, with rudimentary suspension and steering, not to mention no gears.

Disabled people should be able to purchaser a decent looking weather proof smooth ride after all we may be disabled but as was seen on the challenge we are not all totally decrepit and it is hard work trying to look cool on a mobility scooter!

Watching Jeremy Clarkson cocking about on a mobility scooter will keep me laughing for weeks and as the show is so popular I hope that those watching will in future spare a thought for us motoring poor relations.

One thing is certain, thanks to “Top Gear “ Scooter users now have a bit of street cred!

COMPROMISES

Rheumatism has been a part of my life since my teen age years and I suppose that up to a point I have become used to working with it and around it. Facing the fact that my increasing infirmity will mean that a degree of compromise will be necessary has proved difficult however.
Notoriously stubborn I refused for ages to admit that I could no longer cream butter and sugar,whip cream or strain soup through a sieve by hand, but of course in the end I saw sense and purchased a small hand mixer and a blender for making soups.

That was fifteen or more years ago and I am now having to fact yet another compromise.
While making shortbread on yesterday I was obliged to hold the mixer in both hands as not only would the fingers of my right hand grip the gadget, my shoulder was giving so much pain that it was almost unbearable and the effort has resulted in having to have the shoulder immobilised for a while.

Here I must tell you that I detest modern kitchen gadgets and in the past have had to be bullied in to acquiring a micro wave (in the end my son just went out and bought one) to make things easier. Loving old fashioned kitchen equipment, and having spent a life time using these wonderfully tactile and always practical items I have always been loath to besmirch my kitchen with new fangled stainless steel soulless kitchenalia; a kitchen should look like a kitchen and not an operating theatre!

Now I must bow to the inevitable and today a food processor has been ordered, not one of those tricksy do everything but play CDs sort, but just a plain simple five litre mixing bowl(it needs to be big) on a stand with a beater, dough hook and a whisk. Hateful though this turn of affairs is to me I see the necessity for it very clearly as the alternative of returning to shop bought bread ,cakes and biscuits is not to be borne.

Perhaps you will think that I am making a good deal of fuss about nothing but you see, to me one of the great pleasures of baking is the feel of the ingredients in my hands, that and the fun of applying the skills it has taken me a life time to learn. Quite simply it is the end of an era and there is no going back from here.

Naturally I shall eventually become accustomed to using the thing as I did the hand blender and the micro wave but oh how I deplore the necessity for it. Coming to terms with greying hair, wrinkles and middle aged spread gave me no trouble at all, it is the feeling that I am loosing my faculties that bites so deep. What will be the next thing to go? I ask myself.

Simple things like edging the lawn and planting out the seedlings have become very difficult and pricking out and handling tiny seedlings has over the last two or three years become impossible. Resolved that I shall never give up I am there fore resigned to the need for a few gadgets and I am lucky in that the boys are only too eager to purchase these things which will make my life easier. Just now I am finding it hard to face the fact that the next batch of cookies I make will have been made in a machine and not by my own hands, I am I suppose feeling a little sorry for myself.

Sunday means the this is the last of our holiday days and tomorrow my son returns to work and yet we are more than happy with the week we had together. My son has finished the second novel of a trilogy(he certainly is prodigious) and I have to tell you that it is even better than the first ,the proof readers agree with my assessment and he is about to begin the final part. Publication will not take place until all three are ready to print which hopefully will not be long. Thriving as he does on challenge and needing an outlet for his creativity he out grew his present employment some time ago and to be frank they do very little to encourage loyalty or commitment in their employees. Hasten the day when he tells them that they can take their job and shove it as sooner or later he is bound to do if things carry on as they are!

Tonight they are screening the episode of “Top Gear” in which those intrepid petrol heads construct and then drive around on mobility scooters. Every one will be piling in to my room to watch and it should be fun there will be home made roasted nuts and some home made damson gin to help things along.

Sorry about the protracted moan,I shall get over my fit of the miseries eventually and besides. Spring is on its way. Only yesterday I saw a pair of magpies nest building in the grave yard behind my home.
I should remember my own maxim that when something goes out of your life another soon replaces it. Perhaps I shall have more time to sit in the garden and watch the birds. Perhaps I may even have time to take more photographs or even do a little sketching again. Perhaps I may just sit amongst the flowers and burgeoning fruits and read a book...........who knows?

DROPSIES

Granny Mugwump was clumsy at the best of times but now and then she would have a day when almost everything she handled ended on the floor, she would call this a fit of the dropsies! Today it was my turn to be the clumsy one and I certainly made a mess in the process.

Morning began well with a cup of coffee in bed and the promise of breakfast to be made by my son. Crumpets and muffins with honey were his choice, he loves to give me a treat and I am very appreciative believe me. Staying in bed until breakfast is almost ready is a great part of the treat for me and although he would happily give me my breakfast in bed I prefer to sit in our cosy kitchen with the boys, and in my dressing gown too as it gives the occasion a more lazy feel.

Back to the story, out of bed at last I decided that had time to make the bed before I went downstairs.....big mistake! Perfumed oils area favourite with me and I was recently given a beautiful bottle of perfumed oil with reeds to diffuse the fragrance. Each reed is topped with a wooded bed and the bottle is rather larger than usual. Irritated that I could not straighten the patchwork quilt I gave it a shake and in doing so caught one of the wooden wands and down the whole lot came spilling perfumed oil all over the carpet.


Fragrant oil gently diffused smells subtle and pleasant, a whole quarter pint of the stuff in a puddle on the rug has a pungency which is not pleasant at all. Quickly I covered the spill with tissues and went downstairs for breakfast, a lovely meal enjoyed by all and apart from a strong odour of orange oil and cloves everything was as usual.

Eleven thirty brought a gaggle of gamesters and shortly after they left with my son to do battle at our local hostelry. Baking, and quite a lot of it was on the agenda and so I decide to make a start before washing up the breakfast things and clearing up the pongy perfume upstairs.....second big mistake. With so many things on my mind I was not paying attention as I took a bag of cater sugar from the cupboard and I knock a large bag of icing sugar on to the floor which exploded covering the kitchen ,myself and the cat in a dusting of fine white stickiness!

Twiggy fled at once casting a sugary trail behind her as she went and ensconced herself upon my bed to clean of the mess. Aggravated beyond measure I swept up the sugar, filled the steamer wit water and finished baking two trays of almond slices before steaming the kitchen floor, it took ages and the trays had been out of the oven for a full ten minutes before I had done enough to ensure that we should not stick to the floor .

Two trays of melting hazelnut shortbread where next on the list and I creamed the butter and what was left of Th icing sugar(just enough as it happened) together added the flour and cornflour and then e=went to find the hazel nut jar. Empty! Would you believe it? Rejoicing that I'd had the foresight to purchase a bag yesterday I took them from the cupboard and attempted to open them, with out the aid of a pair of scissors...........third error of judgement.

Pulling at the edges of the bag did not work and irritated beyond measure I tried popping the bag............you can guess the result. Hazel nuts rolled around the floor like ball bearings and almost as deadly. Twiggy now back from depositing sticky icing sugar all over my bed was delighted with this turn of events and began to chase the rolling nuts many of which, thanks to her efforts lodged underneath the washing machine and the freezers. Dust pan and brush to the fore I swept up the ones I could reach and put the in the squirrel food tray. Deprived of her amusement the cat stalked off in high dudgeon and has not addressed me with civility since!

Hazel nuts were still plentiful and I finished the trays of shortbread, put them in the oven and went off the tackle the pong upstairs, taking with n the steamer and a large bottle of carpet shampoo.............yet another mistake. Arthritis affects my hands and has been getting worse of late, unable to turn the spray nozzle I decided to undo the top and pour the product on to the rug before steaming in the faint hope of laying the overpowering pong.........wrong again!

Expecting the lid to be as troublesome as the nozzle I gave it an almighty twist and off it came in my hands, the bottle crashed to the floor spilling a good portion of its contents onto the already besmirched rug which was now foaming merrily ans smelling even worse than before.

Thank the Gods that at this juncture the house was empty as I confess that my language for a full five minutes was of the most picturesque sort and not at all fit for delicate ears. Once again the cat sped off having been lurking under the bed in the mistaken belief that she would be safe there.....some hope!

After much travail and a great many micro fibre clothe most of the oil and foam was extracted from the rug and in a state of collapse I made a coffee and sat down to eat a piece of short bread. Later on returning upstairs and finding they the top floor smelled rather funky I opened all the widows in the hope that this would help. That is why I am writing this epistle while wearing a hat, scarf, fur jacket and fingerless gloves.

I tremble to think what may yet happen as the day is not yet spent, hasten tomorrow and hopefully an end of the dropsies.

One more thing before I go, Granny Mugwump always maintained that the dropsies came in threes and that after the third accident all would return to normal...........she lied!!!!!!!!!!

PROVIDENCE IS KIND

Throughout my life I have observed that if I wanted something badly enough, no matter what it was I usually acquired the longed for item eventually and often by peculiar means. Saying that I have not won the lottery.......yet , in fact I am seldom lucky at raffles, lotteries or such like,my luck seems to be of a different type.

Childhood drawings of mine always contained a cottage with lots of gables, stone mullions,dormer windows, tall chimneys and gardens all around, and since this sort of abode is usually expensive the likelihood of achieving my dream was almost none existent. Providence has set me down in the very cottage which I drew so often as a small child right down to the last detail,except one, my dream cottage was always in a very rural setting.

Sitting now in my room and looking out of the windows it is difficult to believe that the heart of London is less that eight miles away and that here we are surrounded by towns. Every window looks out over trees and fields, parkland and garden, so I thank providence for favouring me, after all one can not have everything.

How I wished for a horse as a child , how over joyed I was when my uncle asked my parents if he could purchase a pony for me, how desolate when my parents refused, I still do not know why.
Just a few months later a fellow rented some of our land and our stables to house two ponies and a horse for his daughters. They were to ride every weekend and spend their holidays with the horses. I was to look after them in between times.

Young ladies of a certain age have short attention spans and when they discover that there were such things as BOYS ,the horses were soon redundant. Happily for me the horses remained at our farm for several years and by the time they were sold on I too had discovered BOYS, providence again you see.

Good garden furniture is so expensive and the cheap stuff often looks awful so when we moved in to our cottage I decided not to spoil it with plastic tables and chairs and made some benches out of log rings and planks. Before the first summer was half done we were given a large old oak seat, a small oak seat, and oak bench and a table, all beautifully silvered by age
and far nicer that anything I could have afforded. I could not believe our good fortune, the furniture looks so at home in our garden, much better than any new highly varnished wooden seats ever could.

Recently when Pa needed a large comfy armchair for nights when he could not sleep quite out of the blue our neighbours asked if we could house a large leather chair. They were almost apologetic about foisting it off on us . It was perfect, it was also brand new, they had overestimated the size of their living room and so they gave it to us. We would happily have paid for the chair but they would not hear of it and when we told them how we had been on the point of buying a chair just like it for Pa they were delighted that they had been able to help.

Today while shopping I noticed that a lovely straw hat which I admired all last summer and considered too expensive had been marked down to £2.50, it was the only one left and I snapped it up with glee. Gardening in the summer makes a shady hat essential and my old one although still just about serviceable is the most disreputable piece of millinery you could imagine and draws down much ridicule upon the head of the wearer, namely myself.

Providence does some times have a down side though, I am a cat lover and my enthusiasm for these elegant creatures has in the past resulted in me having thirteen stray cats in the house at one time........and one of them had kittens soon after its arrival! While making mince pies last December I began to sing I want a hippopotamus for Christmas... my poor boys begged me to stop.......well you just never know with providence, do you?

mysteries and curiosities

!

Shortly before Christmas and after two years of begging and pleading we were finally put on the link, which for those who are not familiar with the trappings of old age and infirmity is a device which is linked to the telephone and a pendant worn about the neck.
Should the wearer fall of be otherwise taken ill he presses the pendant and an alarm goes of at a centre who then call your telephone number.
If the phone is not answered they assume that you are unable to reach it ans they send help at once.

Complicated, perhaps but the peace of mind this device imparts is beyond price, certainly more than the three pounds per week that we pay for it services, or it should be.

Located in my sons bedroom is the house telephone, this was done for a variety of reasons and makes little difference to the problem. The hard ware for the device is connected to the telephone again no problem as the alarm should only go off if someone presses the panic button, allegedly! Should this happen my son would if at home get up to see eat was happening.

Almost as soon as the box was installed the problems began, the box began to bleep when no one had pressed the panic button, and when this happened while my son was sleeping during the day of course he was disturbed by it. While my son is asleep the telephone volume is turned down, all our friends use our mobile numbers any way so there should be no problem. We called the installer who got rather shirty and refused to believe there was a problem, the next time it happened he was convince that is=t was our fault.

Today it happened again, this time while my son was awake and the telephone volume was turned up, the call turned out to be a telephone salesman and these are the only people who use our land line. What was surprising was that the alarm box began to bleep, it should not do this every time the telephone rings, Having got rid of the salesman with a polite refusal (sic) my son called our land line using his mobile, the box began to bleep, we called our land line from my mobile and the same thing happened. Either the gadget has been set up incorrectly or it is malfunctioning for some the reason.

After this triumph of deductive reasoning my son preened himself for the rest of the day and behaved like Sherlock Holmes to my very inferior Watson, but since he had been the person most inconvenienced by the gadget how could blame him?

Research into the matter uncovered the fact that this particular model is ancient and should have been phased out some time ago. My son is incandescent having been accused by the installers of (playing with the device.) My son is almost thirty years old and is not inclined to bugger about like a three year old child,he is needless to say looking forward to speaking the the installer when he comes on Thursday to put a new box. Enough said!

Perhaps I have mentioned the quite large flock of Rose Necked Parakeets which inhabit the trees around our home. Over the years we have become accustomed to these garrulous birds and do not mind their presence in the garden one bit. Through out the year they entertain use with their antics and their acrobatics and we watch them defend their nest holes and rear their young. Watching these young take their first steps to independence is both wonderful and funny and as the parents bring them to our feeding stations as soon as they leave the nest we miss none of the fun.

Just one thing still seems very odd however and that is the appearance of these gaudy visitors when there is thick snow on the trees, they look so funny and so out of place surrounded by the cold snow. When there is snow their acrobatics cause many a small avalanche which buries anything which happens to be perched on the branch below and since these birds feed in a flock that is usually another parakeet.
Such entertainment as this deserves a reward and we always make sure that there are plenty of their favourite peanuts in the feeders and also apples which they love.

Once I tried them with bananas but each time I put one out it was taken almost at once by a magpie and this happened each time until there was a very unseemly scuffle between two magpies which scared the cat into fits...........I no longer feed bananas to the birds!

ROSE COOKIES FOR JAN

First I must apologise to Jan, I only just discovered that you had requested this recipe and I do hope that it is not too late, well here it is at last darling just for you. x

ROSIE HEARTS

4 oz plain flour
3 oz caster sugar
1 egg yolk
2 oz butter softened
half a teaspoon of vanilla extract
2 teaspoons of milk
For the topping

A drop of pink food colouring or rose syrup
Rose water
4 oz Icing sugar
Edible sugar balls or pink glitter sugar


1 cream the butter and sugar together until light and fluffy. Beat in the egg and vanilla essence until smooth and then add the flour and milk and mix to a firm paste, and allow to chill for thirty minutes.

2 Pre heat the oven to 180oC. Grease two baking sheets and them roll out the chilled dough to a thickness of a quarter of an inch then cut in to heart shapes. Keep on re-kneading and rolling the left over scraps of dough until it is all used up then bake in the oven for 8-10 minutes.

3 When the cookies are just beginning to brown at the edges remove from the oven and allow to cool completely on the trays before removing them to a wire rack with a palette knife.

4 In a bowl mix the icing sugar with enough rose water to make a soft icing the add the food colouring. If red is used the smallest dab on the tip of a cocktail stick will be sufficient.
Drizzle or pipe the icing on to the hearts ans sprinkle with sugar balls or glitter sugar while the icing is still wet. These ingredients will make about fifteen cookies. Love Avie.x

SOUR DOUGH PETE

Tracking down a sour dough starter which would be more versatile than the late “Herman” Proved to be relatively easy and on Sunday Sour Dough Pete was born. Yesterday I took some of the starter and made what is called “the sponge” and leaving the rest of Pete in the refrigerator left it in a warm place over night as instructed.
Today's dinner was to be roasted pork belly with roasted vegetables,jacket wedges and dips and since this meal is usually eaten with trenchers of bread I decided to experiment with the sour dough sponge.

Following the recipe I did all the blending , mixing and kneading and left the dough to rise............. for ages..........then added some soda, and kneaded again this time dividing the mixture in to two bread pans and leaving to rise again....................for ages.



Although our meal is quite a simple one to cook it requires the whole oven as there are three large trays of vegetables and meat in the oven for the last hour or so.
Ol' Pete had sure taken his time about rising and the meat had been in the oven for an houir before he was ready to go in and since he needed an hoiur this was going to deklay dinner...........Bum!

I pottered around the kitchen fiddling about with this and that, I fed the cat, wrote up some new recipes and watched Pete through the glass door of the oven with more that the usual concern. Since the recipe had stated fifty to sixty minutes cooking time I was surprised when after only forty minutes the bread was done, the crust was golden brown and the loaves had a hollow sound when tapped on the base; I decided to trust my judgement and set the loaves to cool.

New bread always makes the kitchen smell wonderful and as I make bread several times a week we have become used to the lovely smell, this did not however prepare any of us for the detectable aroma of the sour dough loaves as they cooked and afterwards as they cooled on the kitchen table covered with a clean tea cloth. Each of us began to look forward to our evening meal even more that is usual for this favourite dish as the bread was to accompany it.

Dinner came to the table only a little late and the bread was cut ceremoniously by my son, each of us took a piece, spread it with the roasted garlic and took a bite..............wow!
Wonderful as our usual new bread is this was something different, it had a freshness about the flavour which was almost magical, in short we were hooked.

Now I do not pretend that I shall make this bread three times a week, as I do our usual sort as it is rather time consuming but I shall certainly be keeping a sour dough starter in the fridge and I shall defiantly be making this delicious bread at least on the weeks when my son is at home and for special occasions.

I hope to try the sour dough muffins soon and the pancakes and waffles, if they are half as good as the bread we are in for a treat.

Well done University of Alaska and well done Sour dough Pete.

ALMOND SLICES, CHEATS METHOD1

Until recently I always made my own pastry shortcrust, puff or sugar paste but no more.
There are a number of different brands of ready made pastry on the market an so long as you buy the all butter ones no one will ever guess the awful truth. With this in mind here is a recipe which benefits very much from not having to make pastry from scratch.

I pkt ready made short cut pastry
|Apricot jam
3 oz chopped walnuts or sliced almonds

grease a Swiss roll tin and set the oven at 175oC, then mix together

4oz caster sugar
4oz icing sugar
4 oz ground almonds
2oz semolina at ground rice
a few spots of almond essence or vanilla essence if preferred.
1whole egg
1egg white

Line the Swiss roll tin with the pastry and spread with the jam. Spread the almond mixture over the top it does not have to be a perfect cover as the topping will spread. Sprinkle to nuts on the top and bake for twenty minutes.

Remove from the oven and cool in the tin before cutting into fingers.

This has been a baking day with most of the day taken up with either actual baking or preparation for tomorrow. To begin with we celebrated the start of our week off with a breakfast of blueberry muffins, orange juice and a pot of good strong tea after which my son went to rest, Pa went to the village and I cracked on with the chores.

Bread was first on the list and four loaves were needed today, two split tin loaves, a large bloomer for the boys next door and a special cross topped loaf for tonight’s meal ,such as the one which appeared on yesterdays blog. While the bread rose I tackled the breakfast dishes and the sticky bread pan, and cleared the kitchen for the next job.

With the bread in the oven I took a portion of the spur dough starter I began yesterday and added some flour and water, the remaining mixture I stored away in the fridge, as I shall not need it for a day or two. Tomorrow I shall have my first attempt at making bread with the “Sour dough Pete” mixture, if it turns out badly it will not matter too much as we shall have plenty of bread left for tomorrows meals.

Lovely smells wreathed the kitchen as the bread came out of the oven and the Almond slice went in and while it baked I cleared the dishes yet again and then made myself a well earned cup of coffee. Three O clock struck as the almond slice came out of the oven and with a couple of hours before dinner I spent a little time going through some very old recipe books I recently acquired. I prefer old recipe books to knew ones if the truth be known, they tend to be far more straight forward and down to earth, not so much of the “Omelettes a la pouffe celebre!” if you see what I mean!

Actually that is not a fair comment I knew a gay chef some years ago who made the best steak and kidney pudding in the entire world, I kid you not.
Tonight we shall all go early to bed, my son because he was at work last night, myself as I did not sleep at all last night;plagued by arthritis I spent the night watching films and stroking the cat. Pa too is tired after a day of feeding the birds and doing the bins. There are so many feeders that it takes ages to get around all of them and he keeps adding new ones all the time, he loves his wild birds so much bless him.

My bed is waiting for me complete with a cosy rug and a hot water bottle, I have had my bath and made the hot chocolate so now with your gracious leave I shall snuggle down under the covers, perhaps to sleep, I do hope so.

SOUR DOUGH BLUES

Perhaps you remember shortly before Christmas I told you that I had been give a sour dough cake starter, I have to tell you that I became a slave to the blessed thing and finally yesterday, unable to cope with the ever increasing mountain of mixture I bake two more trays of cake and the consigned “Herman”for that was its name to an ignominious end by sluicing him down the sink.

Believe me when I tell you they I felt like a murderer and I have not dare to tell my son the truth about Hermann’s demise saying instead that I gave the whole batch away to an unsuspecting friend. Worse was to come when this morning my son who had taken a huge box of the cake in to work last night told me that every one loved it and asked if there was any more as he did not manage to get a piece.

Desperately I scoured the internet for the recipe for a starter and this afternoon. God help me I began the process of resurrecting Herman. The Information came from the University of Alaska, I chose this site as it is well known that the old settlers relied upon a good sour dough starter for a good deal of their baking,both for bread and cakes. The site was a mine of wonderful information and history with a six page download covering all I needed to know.

Unlike “Herman”, Pete as I have called my starter, after the famous “Sour dough Pete” can be stored in a refrigerator, dried for later use, does not require constant feeding with masses of sugar and can be used for bread, waffles, pancakes,and puddings as well as cake which makes it more versatile.

Another bonus is that it is ready to use in just two days from the start initially and only one day after that so that is will be much easier to fit baking with the started in with my routine.
Naturally it remains to be seem it this new brew will taste as good as the deceased Herman, only time will tell,but at least I am a free woman again, a great relief all round.

Tonight is my sons last shift and tomorrow begins our week off, of course we have lots of plans but for my part I shall be cooking up a storm of treats for my boys to make the week special.

After all the trials of 2011 and its hectic end full of meetings and letters we seem to be in calmer waters for the time being but being a realist I am aware that as in medieval time winter was traditionally taken as a break from seigeing which always began again in the spring! Hopefully things will remain quiet but whatever happens next I am grateful for the rest and the quiet life we have had of late.

Good luck for next week, keep warm and stay well.x

VALENTINES

After a rather late start to the day and a lazy breakfast I decided to do a little baking and as it will soon be St Valentines day I baked a special batch of heart shaped cookies for some friends of mine. Some are decorated with pink sugar crystals and others with pink rose flavoured icing a decorated with pink and white sugar balls. Tomorrow I shall bake a heart shaped cake for Pa all layered up with fresh cream and strawberry jam.

Often while I am baking my mind wanders away to some strange places, today it wandered many years in to the past and visited two old ladies who lived in our village when I was a child. They had grown up in the reign of Queen Victoria and when I first met them they were well into their seventies. They had been born into a well to do family and as they had never married when their brother inherited the estate he built for them a small house in the village before selling the hall and moving to London.
Here they had lived out their lives through two world wars and had grown old together.

For some reason they took quite a fancy to me and asked my mother to allow me to visit them now and then. Mother considered this in the light of an honour and so I became a regular visitor at their lovely little house. Actually it reminded me of a dolls house as it was perfectly symmetrical and almost all the furniture had been especially made to fit the place. The ladies had in their youth been avid collectors and their sitting room was filled with cabinets full of narrow drawers whose contents were sometimes revealed to me by the elder of the sisters.

One drab grey February afternoon my mother sent me to the sisters house with a batch of fancy cakes to tempt the appetite of the elder sister who was recovering from a severe bout of bronchitis. I had recently learned how to draw a heart shape and as Valentines day was near I made a get well card in the shape of a heart and took it along with the cakes. Ushered in by the younger sister I handed over the cakes and the card,it seemed that the invalid was sleeping and I was asked to stay for tea,pleased I agreed at once and was seated by the fire to make toast while my hostess put on the kettle.

All their cooking was done on an old kitchen range and the cottage had neither electricity or running water . The range was spotless and gleaming black and at its heart the fire seemed like a live thing caged inside. As we ate my card was admired and as soon as she had finished her toast the old lady fetched a large box decorated with decoupage,as she opened the lid I saw that inside were the most beautiful cards I had ever seen.

They were Valentines sent to the sisters in their youth by suitors some of whom had been deemed unworthy and sadly a few who had died , one of these had been the fiancé of they old lady herself and I noticed how her hand shook as she handed the card over for me to see.
Being a well bought up child I had been taught not to ask impertinent questions and the silence lengthened as the fire crackled and the kettle steamed on its trivet.

Suddenly and with a sigh the old lady gathered up the treasured cards and put them back in the box as if she was packing away her memories with them. Many years later I discovered that the young man who had sent the beautiful card had died of typhoid shortly before they were to have married.

She never knew how much I wanted to hug her as I left,but she stooped down to my level and said “Never be afraid of your memories of try to lock them out,happy or sad they are yours forever and in the end they are all you have left.”
I never spoke to anyone about those cards, it had been such a private thing between us but I did remember the old ladies words although it was many years before I fully understood their meaning.

Now that I too am growing old memories that in the past could move me to tears are softened by time and I remember the laughter, and the love and I am grateful for the memory, for as long as I keep it bright those lost loved ones and past times will live forever.

TWITCHERS IN THE SNOW

Great was my private rejoicing when once again the snow began to fall yesterday evening. And through out the night. Once again I was wakeful and watched the swirling flakes silver the branches of the stately limes in the lane and by mid night there was a most satisfying depth covering the garden, the railings and the pathways.

Foxes busy searching for food and maintaining their territory patrolled all night and by morning an unbelievable amount of fox tracks decorated the otherwise virgin snow. Day light brought with it a larger than ever flock of Red wings eager for a feed of juicy ivy berries after the rigours of another freezing night, and our bird feeders were busy as soon as it was light.

Such quantities of birds require a good deal of food and we waste nothing that can be used to feed our flock. Baking our own bread as we do there are plenty of nutritious toast crumbs and any crusts and left over slices are made in to bread crumbs for the smaller birds such a Dunnocks. Dripping and any solid fat left over from cooking is mixed with cake of biscuit crumbs or a little oatmeal and once cold and solid goes into a feeding cage for the blue tits and robins.

Celebrating national bird week our local garden centre is selling bird boxes for half the normal price ans so our group is making the most of this chance and are buying twenty with some of the funds we raised last year.`most of the boxes will be located in our conservation area ,others will be given to our new members, and it is hopped that this will if successful considerably increase the number of fledglings during spring and summer.

Today saw the arrival of a species new to the area,there seems to be one in every bush and behind every tree, I even caught one climbing over the high orchard wall had he asked me I should have cheerfully let him in through the gate. I am of course referring to the “Much Spotted Twitcher” car loads of whom have descended upon us since yesterday. Normally I would be the last one to prevent anyone from enjoying wildlife but some f these types are a menace and are nothing better than train spotters. For most of the day they have loitered about in the lane, trespassed on peoples gardens and one rat her large lady actually fell through the roof of a shed on to which she had climbed to gain a better view.

The shed's owner refused to let her out until she had agreed to compensate him for the damage and he actually got it in writing too! Most are in fact lovely people ,it is the few fanatics who let the side down by their irresponsible behaviour. Many kinds of water bird not often seen in these parts have been sighted on the river in in the tide meadow which explains the influx of twitchers.

Frost and fog are to follow the snow we are told which means that we shall keep our winter visitors for some time to come, both the feathered and the green wellied varieties. Ho hum!

FOOTBALL CRAZY

First I must admit that I am not the worlds most enthusiastic football fan, I have always preferred rugby, having said they I do enjoy a good football match on the odd occasion our national team plays one! I am not one to harp on about 1966 but it must be faced that it has been all down hill since then.

Back in those palmy days a footballer played football and if he did not play well he was out on his ear. Nowadays teams pay millions for a good looking boy who will look good on the merchandising. Oh boy do I get weary of players like David Beckham who as far as I can see is unable to kick a ball with out falling flat on his ass.

David Beckham is rubbish! Set him against Bobby Moore or either of the Charletons and it is a no contest. Today’s footballers are a bunch of over paid prima donnas who can not hold a candle to the likes of Nobby Styles, Geoff Hurst, Alan Ball,Roger Hunt and Martin Peters to name but a few,not to mention the amazing Gordon Banks who played for my home side Stoke City or Sir Stanley Mathews, now there was a hero.

A few years ago when I saw Wayne Rooney run on to a football pitch for the first time I had not seen a player so dynamic since George Best, but look at Rooney now, he has become as spoilt and temperamental as the rest. Poor Bestie too much too soon and Gazza who some say is the Greatest Footballer of all time yet followed the same downward spiral of self destruction, let us hope that Rooney avoids their fate.

Here's another thing,what in the name of a thousand wonders is all this stuff about W.A.G.S?What the hell have these witless bimbos got to do with football,I suspect that they are their to interest the young girls who,s boyfriend,s go to the match every weekend and I find that insulting, Ye Gods I asked a little girl what she wanted to be when she grew up and that was what she wanted to be, a bloody WAG!

But I digress, and that is exactly what is wrong with football today,too much digression. In the good old days it was the fans who mattered,not any more. All that matters now is how much a club can make on merchandising and sponsorships. The players are more interested in endorsing anti stink for huge sums of cash than they are in playing football for their country.

For days we have been hearing all this rubbish about Terry and Capello. Excuse me but didn't Capeskin fire Terry's ass a couple of years ago for bonking a team mates WAG?
Now all at once he is determined to keep him as captain. While we are on the subject why Capello , and why Erickson? Have we no English managers good enough to do the job?

Now I come to the nitty gritty, the reason why England have not won The World Cup for so long,is is simple,it is because the powers that be were too stiff nicked and prejudiced to put the best team manager ever in charge of the England Squad, Brian Clough. Loud mouthed. Yes,rude yes, ruthless,oh yes but did he get results? Yes he did. It was predudice alone that kept him from Taking our national side to a World cup Final, fact.

So who's next for the poisoned chalice? Well there’s Harry Rednapp,loud mouthed,yes,rude, yes, ruthless, yes and maybe even a bit dodgy but we need him, Until players are chosen for their skills rather than their looks and until managers are chosen for their ability to get results we have no chance in the fierce competition we have to face .

I tentatively suggest that perhaps for £6.OOO.OOO a year we might have expected the England manager to speak English, and if any one can enlighten me as to what precisely Capello did to earn this huge some I should be eternally in their debt.

REFUGEES

Drab and grey as the morning was I was resigned to a day of ironing and semi darkness. Bread was baked early and I was about to make some pancake batter when the whole tenner of the day changed to one of excitement and interest. I believe I mentioned recently the welcome return of thrushes to the garden after a few years absence and at first I thought that it was a thrush I could see amongst the ivy stuffing its face with the abundant black fruits.

Realising that suddenly there were many such birds I looked again and realised that we had a flock of red wings in the garden. Close to the windows as they were it was wonderful to see these winter visitors , only once before have I seen them in London although in the north we played host to huge flocks almost every year.

Freezing conditions in Eastern Europe have driven the to find food in our slightly warmer country and if we are lucky they will soon be followed by field fares which are similar in size.
Both the redoing and the Field fare resemble Thrushes, the Red wing as its name suggests has a rich red under wing and the Field fare is more of a greyish colour than our native thrush varieties though all have spots on their breasts.

Our recently returned thrushes have mixed in with the new comers but the blackbirds are less than happy with the arrival of their ravenous cousins and no sooner does the flock settle down to graze the male blackbird screams his alarm call and the entire flock vanish in an instant.

Parakeets seen to dislike them even more and there is a battle royal in the garden as each faction attempts to claim the territory as its own. Not that the parakeets care about ivy berries, they just do not seem to like the Red wings, perhaps it is large number of these birds which causes the objection.

Hours of my day have been spent in am attempt to photograph these goings on , all I have to show for my efforts are a large number of blurry pictures. Whenever I managed to frame a good shot something occurred to frighten them and off they went. Finally I gave up hope when a pair of foxes, attracted I think be the kerfuffle appeared on the out house roof where the ivy is thickest, the ironing awaited and I could avoid its hectoring call no longer!

Cold damp weather always has an adverse effect upon the rheumatism which has affected my shoulders since I was fifteen and coupled as it is now with arthritis jobs like ironing can be very painful. Bread making becomes difficult as do any tasks involving reaching of stretching,
the ironing basket was full of shirts and some of the recent hints dropped by the boys have been heavy enough to crack the kitchen floor tile, so I bit the bullet, set up the ironing table and got on with it.

Satisfied that I had ironed enough to keep the boys decently clothed for a day or two packed up the ironing paraphernalia and began the prep for dinner. Cumberland sausages, with mashed potato, baby chantonay carrots,garden peas,home made onion sauce and apple gravy. How glad I am that the craze for toad n the hole has finally ended. If I see another for a year it will be too soon!

During the late afternoon Pa went out for an hour . My son was asleep as he must work tonight and I sat at my desk writing s the meagre daylight began to fade and a delight flu silence fell upon the house. Nothing but the ticking of my old clock broke the sweetness of that quiet hour. Stillness is rare and I treasure the little I have,it gives me time to think and to unwind. Now and then small sounds, a bird singing, the creak of a roof beam or the tapping of a branch against the window added to the lulling effect of this magical hour,it was over far too soon.

Back in the light and bustle of the kitchen however I thanked my lucky stars for my noisy lads with their radios, computers and television noise, we toasted each other in sarsaparilla a family truly happy just to be together,I am so lucky.

SOD THE BOTTOM LINE!

First I have a warning for the crew of the “Kobayashi Maru”, it is as follows
Admiralty have ordered ship to be scuttled, officers complying. Suggest other ranks abandon ship rather than hang about to hear the band play nearer my God to thee! End message.

Sitting in my cosy kitchen this morning waiting for the mince pies and tray baked almond slice to cook I pondered the parless state of our economy and the vagaries of those whose business it is to keep it healthy.
These highly paid “Experts” seem to me to be falling short of even the most modest of expectations. For example, They deregulated the banks, result a feeding frenzy with bankers, merchant and otherwise, casting caution to the winds in pursuit of a fast buck and the collapse of the world economy.

Question. Who saw it coming
Answer. None of those paid to keep an eye on such matters.
Question. Why
Answer. Because they were too darned busy lining their own pockets while the bun fight lasted

Ancient as I am I remember a time when expert advice meant exactly that. When you required a mortgage you took advice as to the best deal for you and by and large the advice was honest and in the clients best interest. As well as the banks. Not any more. Banks have sold mortgages of 125% to people who quite obviously would find it impossible to keep up the repayments in order to meet bonus targets. In light of this fact how did the negative equity crisis come as such a surprise?

Poor old Joe Public has in the past couple of decades been sold dodgy insurance, useless pension schemes and all the time the poor sap believed that he was getting “Personal financial advice from his bank.” Joe has no redress for now he is being blamed for overspending, and not providing for his future so "Serve him right ya bo sucks!" sic

World wide governments are playing the game of everything’s under control when it plainly is not. We cannot spend money we do not have we are told,OK.fine, so will some one explain to me why or illustrious leaders think that this is a good time to get mixed up in yet another conflict. Why they are insistent upon borrowing huge amounts of money in order to send aid to a country which has been proved to be aiding the very terrorists WE have been at such pains to route out!

If we cannot afford to keep our own children free from such things as rickets, if we cannot afford to keep our elderly warm, if education health care and the infra structure are in such a diabolical state how in the name of Prince Albert’s cock ring do we feel able to send aid to India, Pakistan and other places. Charity begins at home.

If there is money let it be spent on keeping families in this country in their homes. Thousands of homes are being repossessed by the very banks who miss sold the mortgages in the first place. Millions of people are loosing their jobs, and their home because some greedy young buck in a flash office in docklands felt like taking a bath in Châteaux Margaux!

In the midst of the panic which seems to resemble the last hours of the Titanic, companies are taking strange decisions and embarking upon unfathomable strategies in an attempt to save their corporate asses It is at this point that I will again mention the crew of the Kobayashi Maru, and thousands of others who like them are watching their managers rip the guts pout of otherwise sound companies on which they depend for their livelihood. For who,s benefit ?” You may ask. Well take a wild guess!
It seems that self destruct has an unforeseen appeal to some beleaguered groups.
These types have caused enough damage in recent years, from massive asset stripping corporations like that of the late Lord Hanson, for whom I once had the dubious pleasure of working to much smaller holding companies and hedge-funders who are by definition taking a punt. Playing the financial market involves them in playing with peoples lives, do they care? Do they my.... Aunt Jemmima!

SO where am I going with this ramble amongst this maze OD broken promises and dead dream? Well I suppose I am advertising for business ,because unlike the afore mentioned experts I did see this coming years before it happened as I suspect many other ordinary mortal did.

So if any one out there needs sound financial advice ,ADSUM!

TWIGGY IN A MOOD.

Sharing a home with a cat such as Twiggy is like having at least half a dozen different cats. I know that all cats are changeable, that is in the nature of the beast but with Twiggy the talent is extreme.
First,cutest and possibly the most dangerous is the kitten mood, I kid you not she can even make herself look smaller by some magic and has the defenceless look down to a fine art. She invites kittenish play and is a picture of sweet innocence. Beware this pretty little kitty for in an instant she can become, The Tiger with painful consequences.
Out come the claws and teeth and all at once the kitten is replaced by a ferocious Tiger who happens to be in a very bad mood, and at this point I usually retire badly worsted and scratched to pieces!

Then there is the coquette, she is an accomplished and unashamed flirt, inviting attention with the same prowess as a supermodel. In this mood she will pose like a professional for the camera, roll in to provocative positions calculated to drive a poor benighted Tom cat to distraction and when no Tom cats are present she turns her charms on to any one who will stop and say “Oh what a beautiful cat.”
In this mood she will sit for hours in the front garden, usually on a weekend posing prettily on the sundial or among the flowers like a newly made officer looking for salutes! She always gets them.

Then there is “The Air”. In this mood she will blank me completely for hours, days sometimes and for no apparent reason. She stalks about with her erect tail looking very much like a rude one fingered gesture. She turns her head when she walks by, does not hear my call and takes no notice what so ever of any blandishments offered. I often spend days wondering what I have done to deserve such treatment.

One of the most infuriating is the poor little me mood in which she insists upon acting as if she has not seen a sachet of highly tempting and terribly expensive cat food for days and has been dreadfully neglected by her horrid owners. This often follows the previous mood which makes it even more annoying.

There is “lazy cat” when she behaves exactly like a student on a sit down protest, she refuses to budge and no amount of coaxing demanding or enticement will move the little madam. Any attempt to dislodge her will cause her to howl out a protest song (she sounds only a little better than Bob Dylan), and to dig her claws in to what ever surface she happens to be sitting on much to its detriment . This mood usually occurs when the hoover comes out!

The just plain crazy mood is a wonder to behold when it takes place in the orchard. Miss runs up to the top of every tree, pounces on dead leaves and tears around the pathways doing handbrake turns at every corner and with her tail at a very odd angle. This same behaviour if it takes place in doors damages crockery, upholstery curtains and ornaments as well as the legs and torso of any poor devil who gets in the way. This mood once brought down a shelf full of dinner plates.

I like best the pussy cat mood when she sits quietly for hours purring her contentment and making the fire seem warmer for her presence, In this mood she will settle on the bed or on my lap and we share either bed or chair in harmony and mutual warmth, this is usually a winter mood but does happen in summer when the weather is inclement!

The many moods of our family cat certainly keep us on our toes and pesky thought some of them may be we adore our dear little cat, our tiger and our Primma Donna. With her abundant personality she deserves the title diva a good deal more than most.