WHERE THERES A WILL

Sunday's weather was as forecast bloody awful but nothing daunted the fete went ahead regardless....at my house! Friday was so wet and windy that I rang the members of the committee and asked them if it would be a good idea to scrap the idea of an out door venue and move the whole show indoors. All were in agreement and so we changed the signs sent out updated flyers and hoped for the best.


Helpers came from as far afield as Southampton to help out and during the morning my kitchen was a breakfast café as I fed a full English to the gang as they arrived. Once fed they were set to work clearing all the furniture, nick nacs and anything that would be in the way to the upper floors while I continued to feed new arrivals.

Breakfast over we cleared the kitchen and set up two stalls for the food leaving room in the middle for people to move around. Our stall was called Greg’s after the young man would manned it throughout the afternoon and a white board announcing his name and the bill of fair ave it all a professional air.

Two other members brought scones and cakes, cordials and cookies , they also made pots of tea to order and heated up our savouries in the microwave which was in their half of the kitchen. It all worked wonderfully well. People began to arrive with Bric-a -Brac, more toys for our amazing toy stall and prizes for the raffle. Pa;s desk ,and it as a large one was cleared and then fitted out as our book, DVD and CD stall and we had some wonderful books in excellent condition. Towards the end of the afternoon a dealer bought a large box full which helped pt swell the coffers

One thirty arrived and we opened the fête in the middle of a gale and in torrential rain yet even so there were a number of stalwarts waiting to come in. Once in the house raffle tickets were for sale and the lovely prizes displayed on the stairs, I had my eye on a small stone plaque on which was depicted an angel feeding small birds from her hands and the legend “Love Life inscribed at the top, I wanted it so much that I brought five strips of tickets.

After an hour or so the rain stopped and my son,one of his dungeoneer friends who incidentally was a terrific barker went out with one of the girls from ISCAG to round up some punters with the offer of a free raffle ticket and oh my it did work well. Suddenly we had a full house and the queue for food stretched through two rooms. Cups of tees, orange squash, rhubarb cordial as well as cakes and savouries began to disappear and the treasurers till jingled merrily.

Through out the afternoon the camaraderie was wonderful and a sense of achievement spread through the house, laughter, jokes, singing at times and the quacking of duck calls (for sale at fifty pence each) made it seem like a party. Tiny pots of minuscule magic bubbles which once blown lasted up to half an hour sold like hot cakes along with swanee whistles, bird warblers and strange beetles which stick to glass and then slowly walk down. Children were in luck as on of my sons friends, a natural with the young began to teach magic tricks, the children were entranced and some even cried when it was time to leave.

Four forty five saw the raffle draw and the third ticket called was my own and my prize was the angel,I almost cried as I was given my prize. Bottles of Champagne and vintage port, silk rugs and beautiful glass wear were collected by their happy new owners and every one went away delighted.

Once the left over bits and pieces had been taken away my sons friends along with our neighbours formed a chain down the stairs and in no time at all all the furniture and every ornament ,pot and pan was back in place and the downstairs floors cleaned (we had the foresight to lay down cardboard) and within an hour there was no sign of our fête.

Leaving the boys to set the table I went out in to the calm pleasant evening to buy a fish and chip supper for my helpers,they had certainly earned a treat and at super I proposed a vote of thanks for their sterling efforts. Without their help I would have still been cleaning up a midnight instead of which I was by ten thirty tuck up in my cosy bed tired but so very happy.

Pa too had a wonderful time selling tickets and larking about with a duck call, it was lovely to see him so light of heart. Morning, complete with bright sunshine found a very stiff and sore trio and no one got up before nine. News from the treasurer was good and in spite if the rain and gales our fighting fund now stands at three hundred pounds plus which will buy a good many more bird boxes, bee houses and bat boxes etc.

Today were are all so happy in spite of the aches and pains, telephone calls from committee members all equally pleased have livened up the day, Add to that the fact that we now know what has been wrong with the internet and all seems well again and we have lots to be happy about.

Tonight my son returns to work but in a better frame of mind than I have seem for a long time, Pa is very cheerful still and as for me Rock and Roll!

AN IMPORTANT ANNOUNCMENT

Due to the continued bad weather the venue for the ISCAG spring fair has been changed and will now take place at my house instead. We have loads of fabulous food, a great book stall, a toy stall with some great items, Bric-a Brac, Tombola, Raffle, Lots of lovely plants at silly prices and much more besides.


Apologies for the lack of blogs, a fear that our internet connection is still intermittent ,normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.

CRASH ,BANG,WALLOP!!!!!

After a noisy night of wind blow dustbins, rattling rain and creaking tree branches the early morning light found me tired and rather chilly, grabbing my spare blanket I pulled it up to my chin, cuddled down in to the snug feather bed and thankfully at last drifted off to sleep.


Crashes and bangs of alarming volume and proximity woke me again at nine,I had over slept. Wrapping myself in my pink blanket I opened the curtains upon yet another blustery grey April day, the difference today was the huge lorry complete with grab which was parked directly outside out house. By the time the lorry and it's occupants departed an hour or so later the hole outside the house was much bigger,and so it remained leaving us still marooned!

While the storm raged without Pa and I breakfasted on hot buttered crumpets and muffins with honey complete with a large pot of strong tea. Over our meal we discussed how to get Pa to his hospital appointment and although a taxi was decided upon we were fortunate in that our neighbours newly returned from a short break kindly moved the two heavy cones and the barrier and with a little help Pa was able to get out of the gate. Normally the hospital is about five or ten minutes away by buggy but because he had to go around the long way it became a journey of over a mile and took almost an hour each way! Bummer!

With Pa safely off I turned my attention to Th making of a pair of luscious lemon drizzle cakes for the fête and I had just put them in the oven when a particularly violent gust of wind followed by a crashing sound sent me hurrying to the window just in time to see my green house blown to bits. I imagine that the a small hole caused by flying debris had damaged it and once the wind had a way in the whole thing explode. Double bummer!
Inside the greenhouse, apart from my lettuces are the fifty precious geranium plants earmarked for the fête, I hurried out into the garden but the violence of the gale and my own uncertain footing drove me back indoors having accomplished nothing by way of repair.

Deciding that the geraniums would have to take their chances I took the perfect cakes (thank the Gods that something went right today) out of the oven, pricked them all over and spooned on the sugared lemon juice, the small was heavenly. Crashing noises were a worry for the next half hour and as I washed the dishes the kitchen door blew open with a terrific bang leaving both myself and my little cat rather shaken. I shut the door and bolted it firmly, wished my son was at home and got on with the dishes.

Pa returned at four and I left at once for the supermarket to pick up some fresh fruit and cheeses,a pair of wellies (they had none to fit my large feet) and a few more packs of bacon for Sunday,it was six before I arrived home.

While I was out the wind had wrecked further havoc both in the lane and about the house,branches and twigs littered the pavement and pathways making my passage on the scooter very tricky indeed.

With the shopping stowed away I prepared a dinner of seared pork fillet with baby onions, potato and celeriac croquettes made from yesterdays left overs, asparagus mange tout and red wine gravy wishing all the time that I had chosen a less complicated meal.

Actually it did not take too long to do and was lovely in to the bargain.

Evening has brought a very slight drop in the strength of the wind and I hope to goodness that it stays dropped although I an not sanguine on tat point. Pa and I are preparing for a another wild night of storms and loud noises. Twiggy has called it a day and is sitting on the step prior to going off to my sons room to roost for the night. Where ever you are I hope you have a calm and peaceful night,failing that the right sort of wild!!!!!

MAROONED

Heavy rain was pattering against the windows as I opened my eyes this morning and my first inclination was to roll over and go back to sleep,remembering that the grocery delivery was to arrive today I made coffee,gave Pa a good shake, switched on the television and opened the curtains.


Leaden grey sky, raging torrents of rain and a large vehicle bearing the legend”National Grid Gas” greeted my gaze. Listening to the weather forecast telling me that it was raining and would continue to do so for days only added to the gloom and I drank my coffee with a large splash of Rum.

Twiggy our cat had spent the night curled up on my sons bed which sports a very large and very hairy Mongolian fur rug of the sort one finds in a Yurt. Twiggy misses my son when he is away but solaces herself by taking possession of his room, his rug and his lava lamp, she barely raised her head as I passed the bedroom door on my way down stairs.

Breakfast needed to be speedy and so toast ans marmalade was decided upon with a pot of tea and very nice it was. Fortunately our groceries arrived exactly on time and Pa and I stored them safely away, this took a little longer than usual as my son normally helps, a lesson in not taking the dear boy for granted.

Moist gingerbread,always popular at fêtes was my next task and I had two large cakes in the oven by the time our secretary arrived with fifty beautiful geranium plants to sell at the fête. Stowed safely in my green house we went back into the warm kitchen for a chat and to dry out a little. Oat cookies were handy and we all tucked in,while the whole kitchen was wreathed about with the wonderful scent of gingerbread.

Not until our friend was leaving did we discover that not only the foul weather would be keeping us indoors but also a man made barrier created by the Gas Board who had been working in the lane all day. Unnoticed by us they had not only dug a hole right outside our gate ,they had also place two large heavy cones to prevent access. They had done this without a word to us just prior to buggering off for the day!

Pa and I can only leave the house using our mobility scooters as you know. Since there is no dropped kerb outside our gate we must go either left or right and travel some distance before ewe are able to cross the road. Even if we could fit something over the hole we are not able to shift the two heavy based warning cones so in a very real sense we are ,at the moment prisoners.

Should they fail; to return n the morning Pa will be unable drive himself to his hospital appointment and in spite of the fact that the hospital is less that five minutes away a taxi will have to be called. I wonder if the gas Board can be prevailed upon to pay for it?

Soon I was baking again, this time a large batch of stained glass cookies in the shape of hearts and stars, followed by a batch of crystal hearts and stars,so pretty and so appealing to children. It was five thirty before the last batch was b=done and the kitchen cleared. Cleared just in time to be messed yo again by the preparation for dinner!

Shortage of time had made me choose a very easy and quick to cook meal, fortunately it is also very nutritious especially for Pa.

CALVES LIVER WITH CELERIAC MASH

FOR TWO PEOPLE.

4 Potatoes
half a small celeriac
1 oz butter
pinch of salt

Half a pint of ready made gravy

2 tablespoons of balsamic vinegar
2 slices of calves liver
seasoned flour
2 tablespoons of vegetable oil

1 oz butter
Peel the celeriac and chop into small chunks, peel the potatoes and cut in to even sized pieces.
Place in boiling water and simmer for twenty minutes.
When the potatoes and celeriac are soft drain and mash with the butter and a little salt .Set aside and keep warm.

Put the vegetable oli in a frying pan add the butter and heat until bubbling. Coat the calves liver in the seasoned flour and fry on the hot fat for three minutes until golden brown and tender, turn only once. Remove to a hot plate and keep warm.

In to the pan in which the liver was cooked pour the balsamic vinegar and place of the heat for about a minute stirring constantly then add the ready prepared gravy and bring pt the boil.
To serve place a piece of the calves liver on a hot plate and add scoops of the celeriac mask.
Pour a little of the sauce on to the plate and serve the rest in a jug.

Green vegetables are best with this soft easy to eat dish, I chose kale for today but spring greens would be every bit as good.
Ready made gravy. Leave the gravy granules for the armatures and try this.

1 chicken oxo

I tablespoon of apple jelly
half a pint of cabbage or kale water
1 dessert spoon of cornflour
Mix the stock cube with the jelly then add the cabbage water and bring to the boil.
Slake the cornflour in a little water. Remove the pan from the heat, add the cornflour and return to the heat stirring for a minute or so.

MERDE LE PLUIE

As yet another day of almost continuous rain comes to a soggy close I am forced to wonder about the fate of our forth coming fête. I continue with the baking almost as an act of faith but as each passing day makes the ground more and more soggy and the puddles larger I begin to wonder if perhaps we should postpone the event until the weather is a little more propitious.


Telephoning from Marlborough my son informed me that the weather in Wiltshire was every bit as inclement as it is hereabouts and that he intended to spend the day in the art galleries and antique shops of Hungerford.

Pa and I had an early breakfast as we were expecting a visit from the estate manager and the project manager concerning our new bath room and the stair lift. Nothing now stands in the way of the work being carried out but the signature of the estate manager on the document giving the OK for the work to go ahead,fingers crossed. Apparently the work will take around two weeks to complete and during that time we shall be without a bath so the atmosphere around here could get a little funky, we shall however not be left with out a lavatory ,for which relief much thanks!

Yesterday my birthday present form the boys arrived in the shape of a beautiful cream upholstered tub chair for my bedroom,my old easy chair was very heavy and I found it impossible to move. Lighter and more comfortable the new chair looks very much at home in my room and one day I might even sit on it.....if the cat can be persuaded to move!

More baking today, treacle oaties for the fête and some for Pa as they are a particular favourite of his. This mornings early start has left him sleepy and for most of the afternoon he slept on the sofa, poor old boy. Our internet connection is still intermittent and is the cause of much annoyance, missed meetings and important messages are giving me a headache and I have informed my friends and others to telephone if they need and immediate response from me. Now of course I have a red hot telephone...hey ho.

Casting further gloom over an already gloomy day was the long range weather forecast predicting that May would be even wetter than April,charming. June and July we are told will be “barbecue weather” now where have I heard that before?

CONSPIRACY THEORY

Since Monday we have been experiencing problems with our internet connection and I am beginning to suspect foul play! First thing on Monday morning a Sky Van appeared across the the road and remained there for several hours. Lunch time brought a sales man who wanted us to sign up for a Sky package, at the time I was unaware of this fact.


Monday night found us without internet access and vastly inconvenient it was, unable to access my e mails I missed and important meeting between local action groups which I needed to attend.

Tuesday morning and we were back on line...temporarily as during the following days our internet connection was to say the least intermittent. During this time our mobile telephones began to cut out half way through calls,a really nuisance to be sure.

Next another Sky rep arrives on our door step insisting that we would be much better off with the package he was offering than with our existing on with Virgin Media and while I was willing to allow that this was quite possibly true I was unable to make any decision about it as the Land line and the internet are dealt with by my son who's knowledge of such matters is vastly superior to my own.

My son was not at all pleased when he discovered that the young man was the same one to whom he had given a polite no thank you a few days previously and I began to feel a trifle annoyed as that evening the internet died yet again.

My son has gone west,quite literally as he is on holiday in darkest Wiltshire until Saturday and at this point the internet is down again and our mobile phones ,which incidentally have nothing at all to do with the Virgin Media Contract are not working either. Our land line is useless and this is of course affecting the link line which is our panic button if Pa or myself are taken ill. We are in short incommunicado as I write and so I have no means of knowing if I shall be able to publish this blog .

Next comes the question, is someone tampering with our connection? It seems unlikely and yet it is rather a coincidence and if you add to that the fact that while attempting to go on line this morning And finding our internet connection down again a massage informing me that there was a connection available with another server if I would be so good as to sign up for it!

This was not the usual connections in range stuff but someone attempting to sell me a new package. Feeling that this may not be a good idea I did not go-ahead with it and switched off my computer.

So, What the devil is going on? Are we being messed about? Am I just being paranoid? Perhaps although of course as the old saying goes. “Just because you are paranoid it does not meant that they are not out to get you!”

"APRIL COME SHE WILL"

Throughout the ages poets have written pages extolling the beauty of this month. Chaucer I think began it in England with his “Showers sweet” hmmmm, showers I will allow but sweet?


Flanders and Swan were in my opinion the most accurate in their description of April.

“April brings the sweet spring showers,on and on for hours and hours”! Correct !

Their summing up of the English climate is so accurate that a copy of the words has hung in my garden shed for years and so for all you frustrated gardeners out there battling with a hose pipe ban while being bombarded by half inch hail stones daily here it is.

SONG OF THE WEATHER

January's ice and snow, makes your feet and fingers glow.

February's rain and sleet. freeze the toes right off your feet.

Welcome March with wintry wind, would though were not so unkind.

April brings the sweet spring showers, on and on for hours and hours.

Farmers fear unkindly May, frost by night and hail by day.

June it rains and never stops, thirty days and spoils the crops.

In July the sun is hot. Is it shining? No it's not.

August with its dank and wet, brings nor rain that any yet.

Grim Septembers mist and mud ,is enough to chill the blood.

Then October adds a gale. frost and wind and rain and hail.

Dark Novembers brings the fog,would not do it to a dog.

Freezing wet December then.......Bloody January again!

I consider this a masterpiece of meteorology far more accurate that any weather satellite.

Rheumatic twinges, which happen to be my speciality are also accurate in the prediction of cold weather, particularly where snow and hail are concerned. When towards the end of March I told My son that we Would soon be in the grip of more perishing cold weather he refused to believe my, well the twinges never lie and we have had the garden white over with huge hail stone so often this month that I have lost count.

Corns are I am told reliable but not having any of my own, thank the Gods I cannot verify this. Having said that it is probably true.

Weather prophets down the ages have slaughtered chickens, gazed in to bowls of water or crystal balls. They have scried for hours into mirrors and consulted the runes.

For me you cannot beat rheumatism for cold and wet. Neuralgia for wind and gales and if as I have for the past few weeks been unfortunate enough to have experienced both you will know next time such a thing happens just what to expect.

If there is anyone out there who can prophesy sunshine and dry weather with accuracy by some bodily means perhaps they would like to join me in offering an on line weather forecasting service for farmers and growers , though what we should call ourselves I cannot imagine,any suggestions?

Yet another internet failure has meant that I am late in publishing my blog,this is getting silly!

TIE UP THE DOOR KNOCKER AND TAKE THE BATTERIES OUT OF THE DOOR BELL!

Intent upon tackling the ironing and packing my sons case for his holiday I made Pa and I a quick breakfast of boiled eggs with bread and butter before packing him off to the shops.


Numerous visitors throughout the week have left me behind hand with just about every blessed thing and panic was beginning to set in.

I cleared the kitchen popped out into the garden to put the scrambling nets up for the sweet peas and to check that the fleece over the strawberry beds had not blown away. All was well and I returned f=refreshed to the house to tackle the hated ironing.
Suitcase at the ready I packed as I ironed and first the trousers then the shirts and at last the T shirts were ironed and packed away, I was pleased that I had finished with time to spare but , oh dear”pride goeth before a fall.” No sooner had this vagrant thought escaped than a knock at the door sent me to a meeting that was to take up the whole afternoon and cause endless trouble in to the bargain.
Such a nice young man selling a broad band package about which I knew absolutely nothing,so ignorant are Pa and I on such matters that it is my son who deals with all of this sort of thing.

Speaking for myself I rather fancied the sound of the deal, indeed only a couple of days ago my next door neighbour was extolling the virtues of just such taken by him a year or so ago. According to him we are not getting a very good deal from who ever we are with. Tea and cakes went down well with the young man who looked frozen , he spoke of his family,his faith and hardly said a word about the product.
I asked the young man to returning the evening quit forgetting that my son needed to leave home early tonight for a meeting, thankfully I ha his telephone number and we were able to explain what had happened, even so I felt so sorry for the young man .
My sons case is packed at last nothing short of a miracle, it took me a whole hour to locate a pair of pyjamas in the black hole he euphemistically calls a wardrobe, resorting in the end to emptying the whole of its considerable contents out on the landing and literally wading in until I found the missing garments. My son never wears pyjamas at home and only takes them away on holiday were he does not wear them either..............strange are the ways of men!
Seven days have now elapsed since we had a day without callers and the clock is ticking, I confess that I am beginning to feel rather anti social. Oh well, at least my sons wardrobe looks less like the back room of an Oxfam shop and the mystery of the vanishing underpants is now solved...but that is another story!

A BUSY WEEK AT THE CAFE AVIE

There has not been a single day this week when we had not had company for breakfast. Since Monday we have entertained several guests daily and on Wednesday I literally kept an all day breakfast going for the numerous callers from the plumber to our neighbour and all this activity has made our home a cheery place in spite of the dreadful weather.......but.
Just at the moment I am at full stretch,getting my sons togs packed and ready for his holiday next week has been a struggle with all the wet weather and the fact that he would wear his favourite shirt earlier in the week and to go on holiday without it would be unthinkable.

Preparations for the fête not just nine days away are taking up a great deal of my time, not just the baking and the making of banners but the printing of posters the phone calls. And meetings.
Torrential rain has prevented my from getting to the shops and this is now becoming a great problem as I need some of the items for the fête and am almost out of butter. I had meant to go today but a great hail storm at the wrong moment prevented it. Actually I had planned to go early this morning while the sun shone but an unexpected breakfast guest meant that I made a cooked meal instead of the cereal Pa and I had intended to have today.
Our guest had some wonderful news, after a year of worry his health has been given an all clear,a celebration breakfast was exactly what was needed. By the time our guest had left I had the bread and two tray bakes to make and as I was beginning to get ahead again a telephone call threw me back in to chaos. It seems that the Estate manager has asked to visit our house to see the proposed work.

Now I an not at all sure what it is he expects to see as of course there is at the moment nothing but the plans which he already has, add to that the fact that he knows the house as well as I do and it is rather a puzzling request. Never the less I know have both the estate manager and our nice social worker coming to see me at noon on Tuesday next. Mountains of baking still remain to be done for the fête plus all the garden furniture needs a good scrub before it is co-opted to be used as stalls on the day.
Murphy seems to be at it again, for as my son will be away next week until the evening before the fête all of the outstanding jobs will have to be done by yours truly and I swear to God that the tick of the clock gets louder every day. Never mind old girl I said to myself, take another dose of Sertraline and hope for the best, what else is there to do?
During a short lull in the storm its afternoon I hared off to the corner shop and picked up a job lot of paper plates and paper cups for the fête and grabbed several rolls of baking parchment, believe it or not I managed to get home without a soaking to my everlasting amazement.
Tomorrow come hell or high water( which is distinctly possible) I absolutely MUST iron and pack my sons clothes for his holiday, everything else will have to go to blazes until the job is done.

Every one felt like bacon and eggs for dinner thank the Gods as I had not time to prepare anything, I fried some big horse mushrooms on little butter and made a hot tomato sauce and some grilled cheese to serve with this and the new bread helped to make it a delicious and very quick meal.

Our internet access is still intermittent and I have not been able to get on line at all today, this is unfortunate as have some urgent emails to attend to . Oh well what can not be cured and all that, I think its time for a very very large G and T.

MISSING THE BOAT

Watching the news this morning I saw that today the Queens Jubilee Barge was to be launched,exciting news for me because it was to be launched less that fifty yards from my house. It was strange to watch the BBC news reporter on the television knowing that she was standing so close by and seeing familiar sights and people on the screen.


When we first heard that the barge was to be launched from here I had resolved to take some photographs for my collection. When dear old Concorde was taken down the river she was loaded on to her barge here and we took some amazing pictures of her suspended in mid-air from a huge crane.

Pa and I had not had our breakfast when there was a lock at the door, Tom, the plumber had brought his lovely wife and even lovelier children to visit us before going to watch the launch. I was totally smitten with the two boys the eldest two and a half and the youngest just five weeks old and looking heartbreakingly cute in a fluffy all in one suit. After they left we ate a hurried breakfast of toast and marmalade and as soon as I had eaten I set about making six dozen double ginger cookies for the fête, the cookie jars and some form my friends at my sons work place.

Pa was to nip out quickly for some bird food and when he returned we would go and see the barge for ourselves. While waving Pa off I was hailed by a friend on her way down the garden path,on her way to see the barge so she dropped in to see us. I must say that this is some one whom I am always glad to see not matter what else is going in. WE chatted for a while and then off she went.

Dark clouds had been gathering all morning and now suddenly the storm broke with huge hail stones bouncing off the windows clattering on the roof and soon the garden was white over. Thunder and lightening followed by torrential rain completed the dismal scene and A phone call from Pa telling me that he was stranded at the garden centre spelled the end of my hopes of seeing the barge.

In the lane a build up of traffic caused partly by the road block and partly by some idiotic parking raised a terrific din and this combined with a jubilant and extremely loud peel from the church behind our house woke my son rather earlier than usual.

Pa returned with the bird food at four in the afternoon having been stranded for almost three hours, I an very glad that he had the sense to remain under cover for the duration of the storm. One member of the family however did see the launch of the Queens barge. Looking out O a window at the rear of the house I could just about see the crane at the riverside and sitting on a high wall just a few feet from the action was my cat Twiggy.

If you are watching the news coverage tonight and you see a small and very beautiful little grey cat, that will be she.
Fond thought I am of company I think that for this week I have had enough and as I have still all the ironing to do, my sons case to pack and the shopping which Pa did not manage today to finish I shall daub a red cross on the front door and give out that we have the Plague. This will, with luck allow me that time to catch up on the backlog ….I hope!

BLOGGER INDEX ARE A LOAD OF WANKERS! PARDON MY FRENCH!

OVER THE HILL, A WHIMSY

When I was young, a far off dim and distant time which few remember over the hill was a challenge, a climb and a question, what was on the other side. Well the answer is of course that rather like the bear who went over the mountain what was on the other side was usually another hill, another challenge. Time makes the hills seem steeper but some how the view is almost always the same, something one does not learn until it is too late for anything except regret ,when quite suddenly it seems “Over the hill “ means something else entirely. To be over the hill is to be on the other side of nothing and the many hills turned out to be one long hill after all. I have not quite reached the top so I cannot say what is over the last rise,perhaps there is nothing at all. Perhaps on the other side is everything one has striven for on the long climb. Perhaps after all it is reaching the top which is important and not what we find there. We all climb,all our lives which fact makes me wonder it we are not so much over the hill as round the bend!

 N.B. If you are reading this blog on BLOGGER INDEX I wish to make it know that I have not given permission for it to be used by BLOGGER INDEX and I disassociate myself entirely from the commercial content added by this bunch of unprincipled pirates. I have asked them to remove my blog from their poxy site which they have so far failed to do. Until such time as they desist from infecting my blog with their infernal advertisments I shall take each blog as an oportuntity to air my views concerning their parasitic activities. I ask you, what kind of wanker would steal and old ladies blog to advertise underwear and dating agencies.

"THE RAIN IT RAINETH EVERY DAY"

When with great reluctance I got out of bed this morning and upon opening the curtains found myself staring out at one of the filthiest mornings of the year I almost climbed straight back into bed. Indeed I would defiantly have done so had not Pa's need to be dispatched to hospital for and early appointment and the immanent arrival man who comes to service the gas boiler made such a thing impossible. Sheets of grey rain slanted across the garden from a slate grey sky and the weather forecast held out little hope of change during the rest of the day. Feeling rusty I made coffee for Pa and I and set about pushing the elephant up the mountain with all the haste and enthusiasm of a man walking to the gallows. I had spent a good deal of the night awake making hot drinks for my son and towards morning his temperature returned to normal. Promising Pa some hot buttered toast if he got up quickly did the trick and I got him fed washed dressed and off to the hospital in time. As he left the gas boiler repair man arrived. Our boiler is serviced regularly and the young man who come to do the job is a very nice id hard working chap whom we have know for a long time. He is married now with a very pretty wife and two adorable children, we have known him since he was a young apprentice so we are old friends. A plate of bacon sandwiches and a pot of tea was the first order of business and my young friend tucked in heartily while we caught up on the years news. While the work was going on I prepared some soup for dinner, we as eating quite a lot of soup at the moment as it is the most convenient when we all have sore throats, I hope that we shall soon improve sufficiently to graduate to pasta! The morning passed quickly and soon Pa returned home from hospital tired and hungry and in need of sustenance, I returned to the cooker once again. . All the while the rain pelted down gurgling down the pipes and into the water butts, from time to time the sun appeared briefly with a bold flash of brightness which vanished quickly as if it had been extinguished by the rain. Blacker and blacker the sky became until at last they burst in a violent hail storm which sent the garden birds hurrying for shelter and sent the few people in the lane running for the nearest cover. Twiggy and I, glad to be indoors turned on the lamps to make the room cosy and as the hail turned again to rain a great rush of wind rattled all the doors and shook the windows as if an angry giant was trying to get in to the house. Twiggy not ah all happy at this turn of events dived under the bed and refused to budge, for two ins I would have joined her!A stray umbrella whizzed through the gate and in to the garden, bright yellow it settled upon a large bush of rosemary looking like some exotic bloom before lifting off on whirling away over the railings and across the lane. When at last the rain stopped for a while every twig and railing had sitting on it a bird of some sort shaking itself and reorganising its wet and battered feathers, a pair of young magpies were so wet that they could not get off the ground, help was at hand. In spite of the cold all this rain is doing the garden and the woods and fields a great deal of good. Buds are bursting everywhere and small delicate deliciously green leaves are appearing upon the lime trees in the lane . Flowers stunted by the unusual lack of water are springing up rapidly and in just a few days the garden looks totally different. My son has announced his intention of going to work tonight, he is going against the best advise (mine) although he does seem better I doubt very much if a soaking will do him any good at all so I shall book him a taxi to the station. Six foot four he may be but he is still my only chick and I worry, as do all mums. I was been given a bag of sweets recently and I squirrelled them away in a drawer ,tonight I shall snuggle up with my hot water bottle and the cat and enjoy this naughty treat. Diets, to hell with diets!

MONDAY WOES

MONDAY WOE

Still feeling grim myself I have worried all through the weekend about my stubborn son who has from the beginning of this nasty affliction insisted that he would be returning it work tonight. I admit that he has tried very hard to behave as if there was nothing the matter these past couple of days but the hacking cough and the streaming nose have told a different tale!

Last night he prepared for the week ahead in his usual manner of staying awake all night and then sleeping for as long as possible throughout Monday getting up in time for dinner and then heading off for work. Not being able to sleep myself I made a hot drink and took one in to my son to help him get through the night, I found him fast asleep fully clothed and propped up on his bed with the television on. I switched off the television. Covered up my poor recumbent son, switched off the light and left quietly closing the door behind me.
When he awoke he needed a drink bit it was iced water he asked for as he had while sleeping acquired a sore throat, poor boy his temperature was up again and he looked ghastly.

Of course I pleaded with him to show some sense for once and not go to work until he was better , and now I really began to worry because as a rule he refuses to listen to reason and argues until I give up.
Down stairs I made some soft scrambled eggs baked the days bread and then went out for supplies of such delicacies as iced cream, soft fruits and medicated throat sweets. Once home I made some creamy chicken soup for supper.

He talks now of returning to work tomorrow and is already fretting about spending tonight in bed. It looks as if I shall have to hide his trousers and shoes and nail his bedroom door shut if he is to stay put until he is well again. Who'd be a mother?

Our little cat Twiggy is very aware of Toms presence in the garden at not and although he has not come back in to the house she has asked to go out to him and when indoors spends all her time up the window staring out in pt the darkness to see if he is there. Until Tom disappeared the two of them were very close, I believe that in a few weeks when the weather is warm enough to leave the doors open in the evening Tom will just stroll back in to the house as is he was never away.....I do hope he does, I have missed my lovely Mr Tom.

BUM!!!! I have just discovered that our router is not operating and with my son in his present condition I shall refrain from bothering him about it , anything remotely wrong with our on line facility or one of the computers drives him potty. This of course means that I shall not be able to post this blog until the router is fixed.....Hey Ho...I expect that after all these months of reading my waffle you could use a day off yourselves.
Tuesday Morning..I borrowed a router from my neighbour and am now back on line. My son is sleeping ,he intends to go to work tonight, rash fool!

TITANIC, HER LEGACY

Exactly one hundred years ago, as I am sure you are aware, the R.M.S Titanic out of Belfast sank in mid Atlantic with great loss of life. I was born forty one years and two World Wars after this event and yet for me it still loomed out of the past, a vast and tragic ghost wreathed in the misery of so many stolen lives and broken dreams. Something about this shipwreck became ingrained in to the collective psyche, not only in the generation closest to the event but in the consciousness of the nation, perhaps the world up to this present day.

One stormy winter's afternoon when the light was fading fast and the black clouds tormented by a fierce east wind hurried towards the dark horizon, the Titanic came in to my life and the grandeur and the pathos has remained with me ever since. I was seven years old and had been ill for several weeks, I lay upon the sofa wrapped in a rug and because I had been a good girl and had at last managed to eat a little my mother, by way of a treat, gave me a book of her own to read.

Old and somewhat tattered the blue and silver cover bore the title “The Story Of Twenty Five Years” and contained an account of the reign of George V. I skipped through the book looking at the photographs of people strangely dressed, roads full of horse drawn vehicles, state funerals and then I came upon a photograph of Titanic, a post card placed like a book mark at the beginning of the account. Even though I knew nothing of her story there was something about that huge stark structure that made me shiver, I began to read.

To this day I believe that the account of the sinking in this publication although short is one of, if not the best, accounts I have ever read as it comes from people who had lived through the tragedy, and of course from those who were on board, the fortunate ones who survived.

I read the account of the desperate attempts to contact other vessels, the changing from C.Q.D. to S.O.S. practically for the first time, the life boats leaving with only a few people on board while below decks the steerage class passengers remained locked in what became for many their tomb. I read of the heroism of the engineers who kept the engines going so that there would be light, not one survived.

I became lost in the story, the screams, the tormented cries for help unheeded, the almost empty life boats whose occupants refused to return to pick up survivors even though their own husbands and sons were among those still on board when the ship sank.

How the cries of those lost souls have echoed down the years, the raw terror, the hopelessness and the horror. Titanic is gone but those things remain almost tangible whenever her name is mentioned.

I have never forgotten that stormy afternoon reading of a huge ship which sank without trace in a flat calm sea taking hundreds to their death in a few short hours.

Almost one hundred years later the Costa Concordia sank in shallow water, there was loss of life but thankfully on nothing like the scale of the Titanic. Last night I watched a documentary about the sinking made entirely with footage from the cameras and mobile telephones of those on board at the time of the sinking,

Watching the peoples faces, the hope, the fear, the shear terror, listening to the screams, and the terrified cries of small children I suddenly knew for sure what those last dreadful hours on-board Titanic must have looked and sounded like.

There was terror, yes, and there was courage too, people smiling trying to show those engulfed by terror that everything would be fine.

Most of all there was the panic in the voice of an officer trying to explain the chaos to someone on shore and an ill-informed crew trying their best to reassure the passengers when they themselves were terrified. Yes there was courage, just as there had been on Titanic.

Titanic will be remembered long after people have forgotten Costa Concordia, after all who now remembers the, “Andrea Doria”, another great ship which foundered with loss of life.

Titanic still captures our imagination because she embodies what is best and what is worst in humanity. She showed society as it really was at a time when change was just around the corner, her tragic ending displayed our arrogant pride, our callous disregard for those beneath us in society yet it also showed the great strength and boundless courage of which we are capable. Titanic sank in less than three hours and in those hours all this was displayed in such a way as could never be forgotten. All felt a sense of blame and all felt a sense of pride and I believe we still feel this several generations later.

The loss of the Titanic signalled the end of a time when mankind thought he was invincible, that he had tamed nature, that he dominated the world with his cleverness and when privilege could and often did mean life or death. Titanic's end was the death knell of this confidence in our superiority, it has never truly returned, and thank the Gods.

While mankind believes that he can conquer nature, there is no hope for our lovely green planet and while he believes that birth, breeding or wealth gives one human being superiority over another there will be no peace .

Titanic taught us all of this. One hundred years later is it now time that we acted upon that knowledge?



BAKE TO BAKING

With a fortnight of unusual events culminating in the fête I decided to try and pull myself together. Resolutions of this sort are all very well made in a warm bed when one is about to drop off to sleep and so it was in this case, by this morning I felt as if I had resolved during the night to climb Everest! Never the less I made the boys cheese omelettes for their breakfast ans then set about the baking, empty cookie jars are not allowed, I have a reputation consider. First in to the oven went two trays of all butter whole meal short bread and while they were baking I made a further tow trays this time of melting vanilla shortbread made of course with butter. Believe it of not I have a recipe for shortbread which advises the use of hard margarine as a cheap alternative to butter and goes on to say that if the baking tray is greased with an old butter paper no one will know, stingy or what? Four trays of shortbread take about and hour and a half of cooking tie so it was mid afternoon by the time I was ready to bake my next choice, ginger crunchies with sugared ginger pieces. These are my favourite ginger cookie, see what you think. 12 oz self raising flour 4 oz butter 4 oz caster sugar 4 oz golden syrup 1 level teaspoon bicarbonate of soda 2 teaspoon ground ginger half a teaspoon of cinnamon 4 oz crystallised ginger chopped finely 1 beaten egg Sift the dry ingredients in to a bowl. Place the sugar, butter and syrup into a saucepan and melt over a low heat, add the ginger pieces when the sugar has dissolved. Pour the heated ingredients in to the flour mixture and blend well. Add the beaten egg and mix again. Take teaspoons full of the mixture and roll in to small balls and place on greased baking sheet allowing room for the cookies to spread. Bake for 18-20 minutes at 3235oC. Remove from the oven and lay the cookies on a wire rack tot cool, they will become crisp and delicious. By this tie the kitchen table was covered in trays of cooling biscuits and I was rapidly running out of steam so I quickly got on with the washing up while Pa sample the cookies with a cup of coffee. With the tins full once more I am ready for anything and I expect there will be a number of callers during the next couple of weeks with the ongoing preparations for the fête,# Liberated fro the necessity to cook dinner this evening by the boys generous offer of a fish and chip supper spent a very happy hour in the garden watching the birds shuttling to and from their nests with beaks full of insects and bugs, worms and grubs of every kind. Wood peckers are frequent visitors just now which means that q shall soon Se that youngsters, likewise the nuthatch, Some young birds have already fledged such as the magpie, crow and jackdaw. Corvids always hatch earlier than the birds so that their young have a plentiful supply of of small nestling and newly fledged birds to eat. This is harsh but it is the way of the world except for the fact that there are far too many Magpies these days as the species which once predated them has died out in our towns and cities Magpies are beautiful birds and of course there is the old story about magpies being thieves which is absolutely true, as children my brother and I would check out all the magpie nests on our land once the birds had finished with them and often we would find Shiny buttons hair slides small pieces of jewellery beads and even coins on occasion. Once I found a tiny wrist watch made of gold, we never discovered who the owner was so my father sold it and gave the money it made to a local good cause Nowadays with my tree climbing daysfirmly behind me I still take and interest in these aquisitive birds and sometimes pput out a few gaudy trinkets for them to find just for the pleasure of watching them choose. Watching a magpie chose a bauble is almost exactly like watching a woman choose a hat and it can take almost as long too! My son still has a dreadful cough and I confess that this worries me as in the past this type of thing has triggered his asthma. He brushes this off but judging by the amount of wheezing coming from his room last night he must have slept very ill indeed. Once again the evening has brought with it a chilly breeze bit at least today there has been no thunder which has been a feature of the last few days. Tonight I feel better for having accomplished some thing positive during the day and although I am still battling extreme tiredness I have hope that I am now on the mend.

KEEPING UP APPEARANCES

Friday brought with it the usual weekly chores ,unfortunately it found non of us in a fit state to do them as we are all still in the grip of the prevailing plague. What is most disconcerting is the dreadful lethargy and the weird floating feeling in the head that seems to be affecting particularly my son and myself. Just staying awake is proving difficult and exertion of any kind impossible and this is causing problems as you may imagine. Breakfast was later than usual as it seemed to take for ever to drag myself down the stair to the kitchen and I felt very grateful that my thoughtful son had organised an extra shopping delivery so that I should not have to go out to the shops. Pa ,always difficult to resurrect proves well nigh impossible when I am unwell as I lack the energy to persist in hoorahing him until he moves his butt. Hoping that a treat would make us all feel a little better I made a batch of blueberry muffins,usually there are none left by the end of the meal,today we could not do justice to what is normally a favourite breakfast and as each of us push his or her plate away a general feeling of gloom descended . Having baked no bread for days I decided that I had better make some for tonight’s meal and for weekend breakfasts, toast etc., by the time I was finished and the bread was raising in the pans I was in a state of collapse and had the be helped from the kitchen at which point the groceries arrived at the same time as a friend with a small and totally adorable dog. I sat on the stairs trying to look normal but managed to fool no one and my friend left almost at once. The feeling of being a puppet with its strings cut became worse as the afternoon wore on until I became quite alarmed, I felt drugged, I wanted to sleep. Another visitor prevented this and I made a large pot of tea and served up the left over blueberry muffins to our guest. Listening to his lively gossip and drinking the hot tea made me feel a little better but a sudden bout of the shivers brought me back to reality with a bump. By the time our guest departed with a cottage loaf and the rest of the muffins in a bag It was time to prepare dinner. I was in no state to cook and the boys in no state to eat much , fortunately a meal of cold meats and cheeses had been planned and so we each ate a little more for forms sake than for any other reason before finally clearing the kitchen and calling it a day. Mainly I am concerned for my son who has been very unwell for the whole of this week, he is talking about gaming with his friends this weekend and is insistent that he will be returning to work on Monday,frankly if he does not improve a great deal I cannot see him managing either. Tomorrow I must try to get things back to normal,the garden needs attention and I have some baking to do, both things that I normally enjoy. I have horseradish. Globe and Jerusalem artichokes to plant as well as sweet woodruff and kale and wild flower seeds to sow. I know that there is no use fretting about these things but each day I am unwell the list of chores becomes longer and longer. I have just read the last sentence and have come to a decision. To hell with the chores, to hell with worrying about next week. I am off to my bed with a hot water bottle and a glass of whiskey with lemon and hot water. Tomorrow will just have to take care of itself!

MOTHS AWAY

First I must apologise for yesterdays fit of the grumps,I was feeling a little sorry for myself so please pay no attention to my pathetic whinging. Not that I feel vastly better you understand but rather that I realised that I was being unfair to the boys who it is to be hoped never read any of this stuff! Today has been fun in many ways, except for the steady stream of parcels for our neighbours who appear to be doing business with several fancy dress shops judging by the packaging, some kind of role play, perhaps the costumes are for a theatrical performance of some sort..........who can say? Those assemble around the breakfast table this morning were in the main as hoarse as crows, Pa excepted who remains remarkably free from pestilence up to now. Buttered crumpets went down well but the croissant crumbs were a bit of a trail for those with sore throats. During breakfast my son and I decided not to go to Tesco as planned and instead we ordered an on-line delivery. This saved the pair of us from having to stravage about in the cold and cost less than the taxi we would have needed to bring the goods home. Communication can be a problem for us especially since my son purchased a boom box for his new computer so as a back up for the mobiles we have walkie talkie radio's with which to communicate. Tucked up in his room my son put in the online order and when as there always does questions arose he hailed me on the radio to sort things out. Pa, who was in the bathroom as this was happening was kept amused by our strange exchanges concerning the shopping list. I am sure that the amount of giggling we did made the whole process far longer than necessary but who cares it was great fun. Roasted shoulder of lamb had been chosen for tonight’s evening mean and as the cold weather has retarded the mint in the kitchen garden I made instead our favourite layered potato and cream dish the name of which totally escapes me at the moment. Fortunately there are still plenty of fresh greens in the garden and I picked a large colander full of fresh spring greens and these together with some small chantonay carrots and some garden peas completed the dish. Gravy made with the pan juices and enhanced with some rowan jelly and water from the cabbage greens completed our meal. I had cooked a large rice pudding in the oven at the same time as the meat but we were stuffed after the lamb and so it will be served cold tomorrow with fresh fruit the way Pa likes it best. Yesterday evening two members of the conservation group arrived at dusk to free the latest batch of newly hatched moths which turned out to be Emperor Moths both male and female. Even though the evening was chilly the moths wee keen to be about their business and were soon hidden in the bosky area of the garden with their mission accomplished the moth breeders departed and I took a bath before turning in. Twiggy ,my little cat was sitting in the bedroom window on my return and it was very obvious from her demeanour that there was SOMETHING of great interest to her outside the house. Sure enough as I look out across the garden a familiar shape could be seem. Tom had returned once again to his old home and was disporting himself about the front garden in a manner calculated to attract the attention of both man and beast indoors. Twiggy remained in the window looking out and I though it best not to force matters. In my heart I hope very much that one day soon my Lovely old Mr Tom will come home to stay, for now just to now that he is alive and well is enough of a blessing.

A PLUMBERS LOT IS NOT A HAPPY ONE

Apart from the inescapable fact that I have caught what ever it is which has laid my son low the day has been almost unremarkable, except that is for the plumbers. More of these cheery artisans arrived today to give estimates for the work which is to be be done on the bathroom to make it safe for a couple of old crocks. Old ,young or middle aged they have so far had one thing in common, a regrettable tendency towards the morose to the point where I have begun to wonder if it has something to do with their profession. Knowing what the work is likely to cost and knowing the current direful state that the building trade is is p né would suppose that they would-be turning cartwheels at the thought of such a nice little job, but no nothing of the kind. Their observations and measuring up nave been universally accompanied with several sharp intakes of breath, shaking of the head and even positive groans of despair. Every one has displayed such a put upon air that one could almost believe that they were being asked to do the job at their own expense. While I am willing to admit that our house is rather old and that is has certain quirks and peculiarities is seems that the very thought of fitting a shower in these antiquated premisses is anathema to these troubled souls. Né thing is certain , their remarks have hardly inspired Pa and I with confidence in their abilities. The chap who rocked up today spoke as if we had asked him to look at the job to deliberately upset him, he really was most put out. I arrived ho,e from a trip to Th garden centre just in time to hear him telling Pa that there was no way in which the pipes could be hidden from view if the lavatory was to be moved. Had we asked for the pipes to be covered? No we had not! H e was so very defensive when we pointed this put that he practically told us that we really should want the pipes covered but that it was not his fault that this could not be done. Weird! Sneezing ,spluttering and shivering I headed for the kitchen to make chicken pie for dinner while Pa showed our dejected visitor out, I did not trust myself to be civil under the circumstances and took out my frustration on the pastry. My son is still feeling very seedy and in his own words can't be asked to do much, Pa is in one of his aggravating phases and is refusing to co-operate in the slightest and I needed another silly man in the house like I needed a boil on the bum! I soldiered on with the pie feeling unceasingly rough and in the end resorted to a strong black coffee with a large measure of whisky (one of last weeks party guests thoughtfully left a bottle of fine old single malt) which deadened the symptoms only slightly. The heroic men of the family managed to drag themselves to the table from their various places of repose and deigned to ate the meal provided with a suffering air which I found singularly annoying. To tired to bother I cleared the kitchen made the poor boys a hot drink and then sought the comfort of solitude in my room. The top floor of the house reeks of eucalyptus oil and my bedside table resembles a second rate apothecaries shop, I intend to take some of everything there is in the hope that something will work and that I shall be better tomorrow for if I am not then I am afraid that the poor dears will have to shift for themselves, in which case God help us all!!!!!!!!!

LEFT OVER PANCAKES

When ever I make pancakes for breakfast there is usually a little of the mixture left in the bowl when we have eaten our fill so often make a few extra and use them to make another meal later in the week such as the following recipes which my family love.


Store the pancakes between layers of cling film or greased proof paper, they will keep in the refrigerator for two of three days.

HAM AND LEEK PANCAKESWITH CHEESY SAUCE.
TO SERVE THREE

6 large pancakes

2 medium leeks

6 slices of ham

For the sauce

6 oz cheddar cheese

1pt milk

2 oz butter

1 heaped tablespoon of flour

4 oz grated cheese mixed with 1oz fresh breadcrumbs.


Heat the oven to 185oC, grease a shallow oven proof dish and melt the butter in a saucepan

Mix the flour and butter to make a paste and stir over a gentle heat until it begins to bubble. Remove from the heat and gradually mix in the milk,return to heat and bring to the boil stirring constantly,cook for two minutes then add the grated cheddar., return to heat and stir until the cheese is dissolved.

Wash and slice the leeks into strips and sauté in a little butter until soft then set aside.
Take a pancake and place on a slice of ham then spoon on some of the leeks roll up the pancake in to a tube shape then repeat the process until all the ingredients are used up. Lay the pancakes in the greased oven proof dish and pour on the cheese sauce, finally sprinkle with the grated cheese and bread crumbs and place in a hot oven 180oC for fifteen minutes or until the cheese begins to bubble.
Serve with a green salad or baked tomatoes, both together are really good.
Left over pancakes have many uses especially when a quick super dish is needed.

6 pancakes

6 oz mushrooms thinly sliced

small carton of crème fraich

4 oz cold ham chicken or bacon.

1oz butter

1 desert spoon olive oil

salt and pepper.

Juice of half a lemon

Slice the pancakes in to ribbon like strips, melt the butter along with the olive oil in a frying pan, add the mushrooms and cook until the begin to soften. Add the meat and heat through thoroughly. Place the strips of pancake in the pan and add the crème fraich, lemon juice and cover with a lid. Warm through the pancakes and the liquid  for two-three minutes on a low heat then season to taste

I prefer this dish with mushrooms only but my carnivore family like the added meat.

LAID LOW

When my son arrived home last night it was very evident that all was not well, he had a temperature,felt ghastly and the final clue was a nose like a squashed tomato,winter flu had struck. Of course I dosed the poor chap with decongestant and paracetamol to reduce his temperature which did seem rather high.
Uncontrollable shivering is never a good sign and no matter how many warm covers we piled upon him he still shivered alarmingly,a disturbed night followed with much brewing of hot drinks. Morning found the patient woebegone and far too unwell to attend the last day of the conference...from this you may know how rotten he must have been feeling. At breakfast he stared for a while at a bowl of porridge drank some orange juice after which I persuaded him to return to bed,unusually he needed little persuading.
Pa returned from a foray to the supermarket loaded with such necessaries as balsam tissues, cough mixture and a variety if tasty items likely to tempt the appetite of the poor sufferer.

In the kitchen a large joint of beef waited on the counter for my attention which I admit was rather half hearted as I was deadly tired and felt it likely that no one would feel like eating.. peas prepared the Yorkshire pudding batter after setting the beef to roast.

Comforting myself with the thought that cold beef is always handy for sandwiches and the Yorkshire pudding batter would make pancakes for breakfast tomorrow if it went unused at dinner,While the kitchen was empty I made the second banner needed for the fête, this one will not be on show until the day of the do the other is already boldly announcing the delights to come on the railings out side our home where it has been getting a good deal of attention.

Dinner went a little better than I had anticipated and everyone managed to eat something I am glad to report. More than anything I wanted to have a hot bath and go straight to bed and to that end I chivvied Pa along so that I should not have to wait around to make sure he was OK while bathing. Last night it was past two in the morning before I finally got him settled and only then after reading him the riot act very loud indeed! He chose to stay up for half the not,I did not, silly old buffer!

Sitting at my desk I have at my right hand a large mug of very hot coffee in which as a very large measure of very good Scotch,on my left is my little cat,she too is hoping for a night with less disturbance than the last one. Pa is safely out of the tub and ready for bed, faint snoring is emanating from my sons bedroom so at least for now he is asleep,time for my hot bath and I hope a few hours sleep before I am needed again. Fingers crossed!

BREAKFAST FROM ACROSS THE POND

If there is one nation which celebrates breakfast as much if not more than the English it is the people of the U.S.A , for sheer variety I am sure that they would take some beating. Many years ago I lived for a short time close to an American Air Force base and during those few short months I picked up ,many hints, tips and recipes which I still use today, here is one of my families favourite American Style breakfasts.




Pancakes with maple syrup and bacon.

100g self raising flour

20g caster sugar

100ml milk

20g melted butter



8 rashers dry cured bacon

oil for frying.



Mix the flour salt ,sugar and milk together with the melted butter then fry tablespoons full in little oil on a griddle of in a frying pan at the same time fry the bacon until crisp. Layer the pancakes on a plate with a little butter between each and garnish the plate with the crispy bacon. Finally pour some maple syrup over the pancakes and serve.

The amounts shown are sufficient for a hearty breakfast for two, it is easy to double up if more is required.

You will not believe how gorgeous bacon and maple syrup are together until you try and this does make a great lazy day breakfast.



Recently our old electric toaster gave up the ghost after years of faithfully burning almost every thing we put in to it. Finding an electric toaster which works has been almost a life times quest and at last I think.......I hope......I pray that I have found the Holy Grail of toasters. Breaking away from the same old type I have purchased a flat bed toaster and so far can report that it has performed brilliantly.



It makes perfect toast with out causing the bread to burn around the edges or become rock hard. It toasted hot cross buns both quickly and again with no burning and it copes equally well with muffing and crumpets. This nifty little gadget sits on the breakfast table so that no one has to keep jumping up and down to check the grill, it easily toasts four rounds of our home made bread and it means that we can sit around the table chatting as we toast our breakfast muffins .

Not least of all it frees the person poaching the eggs or frying the bacon from having to worry about the toast as any one sitting at the table can take responsibility for making the toasted items. I believe this type of toaster has been used in the restaurant business for years, I am not at all surprised.



My son is enjoying his conference and returns home each night happy and full of news, last night he returned home to find that one of his recently written novellas is now for sale on Amazon with two more to follow in the next day or so . His motto at the moment seems to be The more books I get out there the sooner I can tell my current employer to “Take his job and shove it.”

In my opinion he has given them too many chances, been too damn loyal. Those responsible for the decline and fall of this once very successful business do not deserve such a gritty ,hard working set of individuals and my son is not the only one sitting like a swallow on the wires impatient to be off. When you consider how hard it is to gain employment these days this should give you some idea of what a crap outfit it has become over the last couple of years. I am very much looking forward to the day when I no longer have to pull my punches on this topic,hmmmm, perhaps I should just cast caution to the winds and publish a fearless expose!

For the present it is good to see my son relaxed and happy for the first tkme in months.

LOOKING BACK

Last night I dreamed I went back to my child hood home again. I arrived at the parent village of E....... almost four miles from the tiny hamlet in which I grew up. There was the pub on the corner, my fathers local and run when I was a child by three very handsome bachelor brothers, and here a gave my first public performance at the age of three.

My mother loved music and the radio or records were always playing in our house. I was no Shirley Temple though, I sang songs such as “Begin the Begin” “In the mood” “You,ll never know” and such like, to this day there is nothing I dislike more than a small child parroting love songs it cannot possibly understand. I was by all accounts a popular performer until I stopped in the middle of “Perfidia” and announce that I wanted to wee, and did so right there and then to the detriment of several pints of bitter; the pub table was my stage back then.

Evening was falling as I walked through the village, just as it always was as I made my way home from college, most people were at their evening meal or their tea depending upon their social status. Closed for the night the old blacksmiths forge was silent and deserted, we were proud of our blacksmith for he had shod horses for the queen

My journey home began with the first on several steep inclines, past the well and the last few house in the village Well Cottage,the post mistresses house(She was almost a hundred at this time) a row of six stone labourers cottages and a large white house in which lived a school friend of may years and my only real rival at school sports.

On the right a modern brick house, the home of our local artist and poet and nearby a large and lovely old farmhouse, his former home then lived in and run by his two sons neither of whom ever became half the man their father was. New mown hay scented the air as I walked past the Grange formerly the outpost of a local monastery and still boasting fish ponds and some very odd stone coffins in the cellar.

The lane twisted and turned and always there was the climb, for my village was one of the highest in the county,then as now I knew every twig, every stone and my whole heart was bound up in its peaceful sights and sounds. Tumbling down hill the millrace ,boisterous even in dry weather but raging after heavy rain or snow melt rushed down to the village ,no longer hampered by the long vanished mill wheel.
And now a dark sunken tunnel of road completely overhung with trees,a haven on a hot summer day but terrifying on a wild winter evening when darkness came early and the branches groaned and creaked in protest at the wailing wind.

At last a short level piece of road and a gentle little brook bubbling and full of sparkles as well as minnows, sticklebacks and other childhood delights, then the crossroads haunted by a long dead servant girl buried there as a suicide,and finally the last long climb of a full mile to my home. Here jays flashed across the road and badgers snuffled at night, hay stacks lined the road sweet smelling and offering shelter on rainy days for tired travellers.

One ,two, three four small farms , the sisters cottage and the hall and then at last the track-way which lead to my home ,deeply rutted with grass growing in the middle and where in the winter would be many deep puddles hard to avoid.
I stopped at the last bend,I hesitated for a while and then I turned and walked away afraid of what I might see....or not see after all these years. Four many years I walked this route both ways daily ,now another family lives in my old home and to say the truth I could not bear to see what changes they might have made.

Nowadays I can walk that way as often as I choose using Google Earth and yet I know that I shall never walk that last bend in the road,I may visit my village but never my home which will have change as much as I have myself so that we should not recognise each other. Better for both to remember the past with love and not look back.

GOOD FRIDAY

Attending a Church of England school meant that at a very young age I was exposed to some very serious religious education Each morning during a half hours assembly we sang two hymns,said our morning prayers and listened to a bible reading done by a different child each day. Tuesday morning was given over to learning new hymns and the memorising of such things as the ten commandments ,the Apostles Creed and each week a new prayer.

One assembly a week was conducted by the Vicar, we dreaded it as he was an old tatare and a firm exponant of the old saying spare the rod and spoil the child.Most if us were frightened in to a knowledge of The Lords prayer before we had been in the infants class for a fortnight!

Every Friday morning we attended our local church which just a few yards from the school and during the hour and a half long service we would show off what we had learned during the week, or not as the case may be, then woe betide the backslider!

Easter Whitsun, Harvest Festival, Christmas came and went with the changing seasons the pattern of which left an indelible mark on us children
Those of us who could sing nicely were at once co-opted into the church choir which of course meant and even greater acquaintance with Hymns Ancient and Modern, to this day I can remember the numbers of a great many hymns.

Strange that all this exposure to Christianity only caused me to question and this was not tolerated by my teachers. I should have been in serious trouble had not my head teacher been and understanding man who persuaded me that I should keep my doubts to myself and not trouble our autocratic vicar with them.

What is strange is that although I have lived my life as a pagan I still love the hymns, the ceremonies and above all the quiet peace of an old church. Long ago I ceased to worry that I could not believe, for me there will be no redemption supposing that I am wrong so be it.
I have lived my life by the code of my ancestors a thing not always easy to do in these times and I have been true to myself and tolerant of others.

It is the One God faiths which are Intolerant of others, they are the cause of much misery while preaching love for our fellow man. In spite of this I do believe that there was a Jesus and that he was a good man and while I cannot believe that he was the son of God For me that only makes his sacrifice more wonderful.

I shall not attend Easter service but in my heart I shall salute the brave man who cared so much for his fellows that he gave his own life to show his love for them.
Human sacrifice ,for this is what Easter is about pre-dates Christianity by many thousands of years and was almost always practised for reasons of salvation weather from angry Gods crop failures or bad weather and many of those sacrificed may have gone willingly to their deaths, I shall remember them also at the rebirth of spring.

Finally whatever God you worship have a happy weekend and whatever you do if you do it with love you will not go far wrong.

TOM VISITS HIS OLD HOME

When ever my son had time off from work of it used to feel as I did on the first day of the school holidays,full of plans and excitement for the fun to come. Nowadays I am afraid to say that these glorious but all too short breaks from the treadmill of having a shift worker in the house feels more like a short parole from prison,something to look forward too but all the time there is the knowledge that soon I must return to my cell again.

Never the less this is the first day of an eleven day vacation and I mean to make the most of it.
Gardening, sketching ,writing and of course a good deal of cooking are on my list of things I should like to do. Pa and I had considered a picnic but with the return of the chilly weather we shall stay at home and have oxtail stew instead. With a more relaxed schedule I am hoping to find the time this week to make a couple of large bright banners to advertise the fête, they need to go on display as soon as possible and then weather permitting we shall have a good turn out on the day.

Quite apart from having the time to do a few outstanding chores I hope (and I admit that it's a faint one) to have the occasional lazy morning, getting up a little later is a rare treat these days, oh well we shall see.

Now for the most amazing ,wonderful news. Only a couple of days or so ago I mentioned how much I still missed my beautiful old Tabby cat Thomas, well incredibly last night he came home. My son was leaving for work and as he opened the door there was Thomas sitting on the doorstep with Twiggy, he spend some time looking in a the window and finally he came in to the house strolled upstairs for a look around and then came to me when I called his name for a huge cuddle before leaving again. He stayed around for half an hour but would not come inside again. There were many happy tears shed last night , just to know that he is alive and well is wonderful.

I have dreamed so often that Tom came home that this morning I could not believe it was true until my son came home and began to talk about his return. Dear wise beautiful Thomas, how I hope that he will one day come home to stay. To touch his fur again and to see his lovely face and noble whiskers was for me a great blessing after so long without him. Miracles still happen sometimes and always when you least expect them it seems.

Tonight all here are happy, so many good things have happened recently for all of us and we are thankful for these good things and for the extra time together. Plans for the fête are well under way.,my son has three books almost ready to launch and our difficulties with the stairs and the bathroom will soon be a thing of the past. Our strength as a family unit has carried us though times of stress, ill health and last years worry about our home, now it feels as if the sun is shinning just for us and we shall bask in its friendly warmth for as long as it lasts, with grateful thanks.

PLUMBERS......ASSORTED !

Today the first of four prospective plumbers and builders who may be lucky enough to fit our new bath room came to have a look around before submitting their tender to the DHSS and a flicker of alarm has caused Pa and I to wonder which of the artisans who have visited so far will be chosen?
First came a builder who rang to say that he could not find us when he was actually outside our house at the time and within three feet of the of the house number blazoned upon the gatepost! He looked at the under stairs where the new loo will be located and came out muttering “Oh dear, oh dear.” Upstairs he took a few cursory measurements and then went out of the back door, within a moment he was back to ask me if the bathroom was at the back or the front of the house.

Now I must tell you that our cottage is tiny,it is two down and three up, it does not ramble and to get lost either inside or outside takes a considerable effort, Pa and I looked at each other in astonishment. When he left still muttering “Oh dear,oh dear.” we both agreed that our confidence in his ability to execute the required work was not high!

Builder number two toured the house in total silence and left without comment which we also found a trifle disconcerting,we await the arrival of a further two contractors before the estimates are submitted with trepidation ,something to look forward to!

Pa and I had a very late breakfast of eggs Florentine and then I dragged myself off to tackle the ironing muttering “Oh dear, oh dear.”all the way up the stairs. Incidentally there stair carpet has recovered nicely from being inundated with sweet and sour sauce and whisky and now we can stop burning incense at last which is a great relief all round.

Tonight my son does his last shift before Easter having booked some extra time off to attend a four day convention of swords, sorcery and so forth out at Heathrow,it is to be hoped that the lecturers can make themselves heard above the aeroplane noise. We shall see very little of him as he will be leaving early and arriving home late, eating out with friends each day. This will leave Pa and I free to eat the sort of things which are normally prohibited by my sons tastes, there will be lots of fish, steak and kidney pudding, liver and onions, and no,I
repeat NO CHICKEN!

Last nights rain has wrought magic in the garden and overnight many plants have made a great deal of growth, tomorrow the hosepipe ban begins and with it the problem of how to keep the garden watered.....ho hum. Poor Twiggy is once again curled up on my bed as the cold damp garden does not suit Her Ladyship at all, above all she hates to have her dainty little paws wet and so she has returned to her winter quarters for the duration of the cold spell.

All around the trees are breaking in to leaf and the horse chestnuts are already showing the beginnings of their spectacular candle like flowers with smell so sweet but which make me sneeze. Most pleasing of all is the recovery of our two lilac trees felled last year by the estate, fortunately they neglected to poison the roots and this year after a vigorous growing season they are producing a prodigious amount of flowers on the still short stems. Unfortunately the large laburnum,also destroyed last year will not make a come back and is now just a rotting stump.

I give thanks that the ironing is done for now and I can again access the airing cupboard without causing an avalanche, how I wish that the boys would do as I do and wear clothes that do not require such attention.

Easter is almost here sand I have purchased chocolate eggs for the boys, when my son was small we staged elaborate Easter egg hunts for him with rhyming clues and which took ages to put together, I still miss those times a little but it is wonderful to have a grown up son to be proud of after all.