THERE GOES JANUARY

And what a wet ,stormy and thoroughly miserable month it has been. Avies small world has been lucky so far ,unlike those poor souls in Somerset who I mentioned last night.

I find it incredible that the powers that be have seen fit to reject help from the Marines and plumped instead for the services of the Fire Brigade!

If you need to have pontoon bridges ,who better than the marines, all the Fire Brigade has is pumps and let us be fair, they have been singularly ineffectual during the pat month. When entire communities are cut of by flood and living literally in a cess pit for weeks one wonders at the Governments lack of positive action.

OK,OK, so D.E.F.R.A have met today , and while I am not au fait with their findings I would have to say that they are about a month too late.

One hopes that the problems face by these low lying towns and villages will bring to their senses the developers who are determined to build huge numbers of family homes in areas know to be at risk from flooding. One hopes, but one suspects that greed will triumph as usual , so that some time in the not too far distant future we shall be watching news reports telling of massive loss of life such as happened on Canvy Island in the fifties

To anyone rash enough tp purchase of of these death traps I say "Bon chance"

In Japan anyone caught building substandard housing,or making toys that are dangerous ,in fact any one caught endangering the public for profit is severely deal with,in some cases the death penalty is invoked.

I believe that the people who build these dangerous”family homes” should be obliged to live in them them selves, just as the supporters of a third runway at Heather row should be forced to live. ,r try too live under the flightpath.

That,s enough vitriol for tonight. January while it has been a very damp squib has held for me some happy moments as well as some truly sad ones and I expect we can all say as much.

As children at school we were taught a rhyme about the weather one could expect in the different months. February's was..February, fill dyke, meaning heavy rain. Well the dyke is full so perhaps we might have a change, February frost perhaps or February fluffy clouds, I'm off. I can hear the marbles rolling down hill even as I write!

A TROUBLED DAY AT AVIES

Before I commence this tale of aggravation and frustration I need to explain that on Tuesday Morning,the Local Authority refuse collectors failed to take away our re cycle, ours and several others in the lane.

So it was that yesterday Pa gave them a call about it and they promised to come and collect the stuff this morning.

This morning at 6 55 am I was awakened by a violent hammering on the door and a lot of shouting, it took a while for me to collect myself and as I struggled down the stairs(There was not time to call the stair-lift) I wondered if perhaps there was a gas leak or perhaps the river was about to inundate us. I opened the door and there in the lane I saw the errant refuse collectors.

One of them,

a red faced individual with receding hair emptied our food waste bin and them holding it high above his head he proceeded to throw the object as hard as he could,so hard that it landed half way down the garden path. During the course of his actions he had continued to rant,b it was not until he returned to the house in company with fluorescent yellow colleague that I realised the burden of his utterings.

“Where's yer plastic, where is it eh, where's yer plastic.” In fact there should have been a large bag of plastic waste with the food waste. Unfortunately we have been obliged to remove it from the pavement as it kept getting blown about and had caused a number of complaints.

The red faced character gave me to understand that it was all my fault that he had been sent out at the crack of dawn.....that it wasn't his round,that we were wasting his ******* time!!

All this he screamed like a man demented while flailing his arms.

I attempted to explain to him the reason why the plastics bag was in the yard and not on the road side,it was clear that he expected me to bring it out to the road. In my nightdress and slippers and still half asleep I gave him to understand that he would have to get it himself and the sound and fury became even greater as barging past me he took the plastics bag to the truck before casting it to the ground at the side of the road.

Of course I have lodged a complaint and I expect to here within a few days.

Later in the day I received a letter from the Estate Manager to let me know that they intend to begin the destruction of my orchard soon. Would I like to talk about it,he asked....you bet I want to talk about it. He tells me he may use contractors rather than estate staff, this is ,presumably so that when the wild residents in the orchard are disturbed it will not be estate workers in court.

They may well tare down the trees and level the fruit beds but every move they make will be filmed and should any harm befall either bird or beast I shall have the evidence to stop any further inroads.

This has worked before and it will again. I cannot imagine how they can level the ground on which there is a fox earth without destroying the cubs which will be born in a few weeks time. Even if the work begins next week,this will leave the foxes no time to find another earth. The earth has been used by the same pair for some years, and we have watched the young kits playing in the orchard,they have become members of our family and although they lead totally normal lives in the wild the have been know to come and ask for help when in trouble.

There are at least half a dozen hedgehogs hibernating in the undergrowth soon to be ripped out.

Hibernating newts frogs and toads.

There is never a good time of year to destroy such valuable habitat, every living thing will be destroyed by the action of a greedy landlord and a local authority which cares more for section 106 money than it does for the land in its care.

We have fought a bitter battle and in spite of all we shall fight on, because if a conservation area such as this is not safe from the developers then nowhere and nothing is safe.

A WOEFUL WINTERS TALE.

Many years ago when I lived in the Peak s of Derbyshire I was told a tale or two on the long cold winter evenings either spent by the fireside of more likely propping up the bar at the old Mucky Duck!

One is never certain if these tales are true,often there is a tiny nugget of truth wrapped up in a mire of local mythology. To demonstrate this fact, there is a Pub called The Mermaid high up in the moorlands ,beside it is a pool which as well as being the haunt of a beautiful mermaid , is reputed to be bottomless. One day a party of art students ,of which I was one decided to find out, we acquired a diving suit and on a brilliant sunny afternoon our adventure began.

We attracted quite a crowd and the pub did a roaring trade. The diver waded into the middle of the pool,stumbled over a bicycle frame and barked his shins so badly that he had to give up.

Another recruit fared little better, he removed from the pool amidst cheers and applause two more bicycle frames ,two decrepit prams, sixteen oil drums and the fender from a mini cooper!

I shan't trouble you with the whole list,just the highlight you understand.

We were disappointed of course but the landlord was so pleased with his busy afternoon that he invited us in for drinks, we finally left just before closing time that night!The pool was not bottomless but on our way down l

the road as we passed the pool ,the simmering shape of a pretty young woman appeared for a moment before vanishing in tot he pool. Not the Mermaid but the ghost of a young woman, who on finding herself in trouble appealed to her lover for help. The young man met her beside the pool one night and there he drowned her.

Considering her condition everyone believe it was a suicide,but the guilty party eventually confessed after being followed home by her ghost night after night for a month after her death.

Spooky or what?

Anyway, back to the weather story. High in the Dark Peak,a wild and lonely place you understand, a dreadful tragedy overtook a family and in the space of a fortnight three of them were dead. The first, the father of the family went out to look for sheep and got lost. Search parties were useless and his body was not found for a week when the thaw came.

The second victim, the eldest son was out searching for his fathers body as the thaw was rapidly melting the ice. The river was a torrent and as he crossed a pack horse bridge it collapsed and he was swept away. That night they brought home the body of his father,the son was not found for a week,his body had become entangled in a rotary clothes drier and was found by the local rag and bone man.

The third victim in this tragic family was the Grand mother who while throwing some potato peelings into the midden missed her footing and fell in, The accident was seen by the driver of the mobile village shop. He manfully strove to pull her out and did eventually mange to do so. Unfortunately he was not man enough to give the old lady mouth to mouth resuscitation....well under the circumstances.........! To make matters worse the families name was Weatherall, rather ironic don't you think?

The Local news paper picked up on the story and in true tabloid fashion ran the headline “Winter weather wipe out Weatheralls .” The Weatherall family held a single funeral service for the three unfortunate members, at the local parish church on sunny day a few weeks later.

This time the headline trumpeted “Sun shines on the Weatheralls at last”.

True or false, your guess is as good as mine, but I would hate to be in that reporters boots if the Weatheralls catch up with him.      

THE HORSE DRAWN HEARSE

Another cold,wet,grey winters day (sounds like some Simon and Garfunkel lyrics) the sort of day that inspires you to contemplate having a duvet day,especially when you have not slept well.

We all got up and went through the motions,my son took out the trash, I made my bed and tidied the bathroom while Pa set about getting dressed. I would not say that we were miserable ,but, subdued would ,I think best describe the general mood of the morning.

We ate our breakfast of hot griddled pikelets with maple syrup,(I thought it might cheer us up a little) after which my son went back to his writing and Pa and I washed the dishes while I bemoaned the fact that I to go out to buy some special cat food for our fussy cat Twiggy.

The light drizzle turned to torrential rain the identical moment I stepped out of the front door and continued unabated until my return,shortly after the weather reverted to a lighter drizzle... typical!!

As I jettisoned my soggy togs I noticed a funeral courtage passing our house. Living a we do between a church and two graveyards it is in fact quite commonplace. Of course the old grave yard at the rear of our cottage has not seen a burial since 1800 and frozen stiff , however the new one situated at the other end of then lane is quite busy.

For instance, at the bottom of the cemetery there is a small pedestrian gate ,and it is inside this gate under the shelter of some coniferous trees the smokers,wretched outcasts of the smoking staff of a nearby hospital congregate to enjoy their surreptitious fags. At lunch time their can be quite a crowd and the pile of cigarette butts can be a serious hazard to suede shoes!

A little further up the cemetery path are some rather lovely but unfortunately derelict buildings some of which once held services for the dead of various denominations ad faiths. Another equally ornate but much smaller building once housed the gravediggers tools of the trade,mattock,spade, that sort of thing. This building is now used by the spliff smokers who had gained entry through a damaged side door.

Some what further round the building the serious junkies hang out, the hospital is on the other side of the cemetery wall so they don't have far to go if things go wrong.

Isolated as it is ,it is used by the local contractors as a good place to park up and down a few tinnies in hot weather of take a snooze if the weather is bad , as I said the place is quite busy.

Back to the hearse. It was exactly like something out of a dickens novel, four beautiful black horses,plumed with black feathers and caparisoned in black harness. The driver and his assistant wore black cloaks an each black top hate. The hearse itself was polished to the last degree, shinning glass, sparkling brass fittings ans the black wood look as it it had been lacquered.

I had heard the sound of horses hooves seconds before I saw the hearse and would have loved to photograph this spectacle, unfortunately the whole courtage were travailing at such a pace that they had disappeared before I could reach for my camera.

The horses at the gallop careered down the lane followed by a long line of black limousines attempting to keep up while maintaining their dignity, in this they failed.

Now I have to admit that I have no idea why the horse drawn hearse was behaving like the lead wagon when the redskins attack, to me it just seems odd that in an age when every blesses thing is done at the double why go to the trouble of hiring this antiquated form of travel to slow things down to a sedate pace and then drive live Jehu past the waiting mourners, they behaved more like a Victorian Fire engine than a hearse. If it had been summer time I would swear that one of the horses had been hit by a warble fly. Or perhaps the entire party were trying to get the burial over before it began to rain again,who can say ?

Whatever the reason dignity and decorum were definitely not amongst us today, I just hope the driver managed to get the horses to stop at the cemetery gates, otherwise next stop, Great West Road.

DOES ANYONE KNOW THE PRICE OF BIRDS EYE MAPLE /

I return to the subject of last nights waterlogged blog! To say that the weather has been inclement is much like saying that the eruption of Vesuvius created a bit of dust!!

This analogy is not as random as you may think for just as Vesuvius rendered whole towns in to useless ruin so the continued rain is returning to ancient flood plains all over England and is showing no sign of retreating.

Take a look at the Somerset Levels, many years ago the area was called “the Summer Country”for only on the dry summer months was the land visible, for the rest of the time it was , as it is now hidden beneath the winter flood waters . Rivers are reconstructing themselves and we are powerless in the face of such force.

When the alleged grave of King Arthur was discovered at Glastonbury Abbey the tombstone was inscribed with the legend “Here Lies Arthur in the Isle of Avalon” and it is true that parts of Glastonbury,in particular the Tor have a claim to the title.

If I is true there is another legend which says that. “When the island of Avalon reappears Arthur will return.”

Judging by aerial photographs of the Somerset Levels we shall not have long to wait to learn the veracity of the legend.

Sitting here listening yet again to the horizontal rain lashing the windows and watching the gale driven water finding its way into the house via any small crack or imperfection in the seals it seems somehow more like the Wrath of God, than just a bit of bad weather.

Perhaps now is the time to think about the building of an Ark! Of course successive short sighted |Governments have closed down most of the ship building in the British Isles so we had better be swift about it. After all if the Scots do secede from the union they will hold the winning hand since most of the ship building is still in Scotland.

With that thought in mind,does anyone know the price of birds eye maple?
Answer: Theeehapence a foot.  ( a poem written by Marriot Edgar in 1932 and performed by the great Stanley Holloway

SUNDAY,DAY OF RUST

Our village,like many another in England and Wales is ,not to put too fine a point upon it sodden! I can count on one hand the number of days on which it has not rained during the past month and it seems certain that we have not yet seen the last of the wet spell.

Everywhere the ground is waterlogged and squelches horribly if one is foolhardy enough to walk upon it,allotments and gardens are deserted at a time when many keen growers of vegetables would be hard at it preparing the ground for planting. Alas,my own gardens are destined to be much neglected this year as I am now finding walking, indeed even staying on my feet very painful.

My brick sheds are dry,in so far as there are no leaks in their roofs but the amount of moisture in the atmosphere makes me very glad that I cleaned and oiled my tools at the end of the year and that all electrical equipment is suitably wrapped. Even so rust is appearing everywhere, most particularly our wrought iron fence which seems to have been washed clear of paint and is now a fashionable rusty red hue.

Metal arches, bird feeding equipment, gates and so forth are also following the fashion and are rusting with a will.

A friend of mine told me that he had purchased a wire brush to tackle his rusty double gate,if only it would stop raining long enough for him to do the job, and another desperate soul was actually seen painting his railings in the rain!!!!

At our local hardware store such things as fence paint and outdoor paint are super glued to the shelves as are the young plants on offer (far too early in my opinion) and the garden centres hopeful display of lovely but prohibitively expensive garden furniture is as badly neglected as their potato sets.

Sundays these days are spent on other things than D.I.Y. and gardening, and as we all contemplate the damage done by the wet weather I will wager that there will be more painting than gardening done this year.

On a brighter note during a brief trip out during an even briefer dry spell I came across several Hazel bushes each one resplendent with wildly waving catkins of bright gold. A little further on the first white tips of pussy willow were struggling to break from their winter prison.

There is always hope and I hope very much that with all the rain we have had there will be no talk of hosepipe bans this summer. Of course this cannot be guaranteed as we have seen in the past,I for one will have something very choice to say should the unthinkable happen...again.

GETTING CHEFFY

Today I finally ran out of steam. After another night of no sleep and appalling pain the morning found me more tired than when I lay down and I was frighteningly weak. I managed to get up and make a pan of porridge for breakfast (I have a new spurtle I wanted to christen) and breakfast was lovely,unfortunately I kept on falling asleep at the table and eventually I had to admit defeat and allowed myself to be packed off to bed.

I propped up my swollen feet, snuggled into a fleece rug and tried to sleep but it was no use,still I was at least resting and for that I was thankful.

I was able by dinner time to make a lasagne along with some garlic bread the troops were delighted do that was all right.

I seem to be getting worse quite quickly now and my concern for the boys is growing,my confidence in them has also growing as my son becomes more and more proficient about the cooking. He now had a proper chefs apron and really looks the part.

As in all he does he takes a real pride in his efforts and shows great promise in matters culinary.

I hope to feel better in the morning,but in the event that I am still feeling shaky a rabbit pudding is on the menu,it is a breeze to make takes all day to cook and costs the minimum effort for someone who is feeling unwell. I shall serve this glorious dish with a quadrille of winter root vegetables and a rich rabbit and port wine gravy.

Well it won't do for me to lose my position as head chef too soon!

MORE NEWS FROM THE FRONT..........AND THE BACK!

For some time now our lovely little village has been graced(some might say disgraced) by the presence among it's residents of the Brothers Barclay. Perhaps calling them residents is inaccurate as although they have purchased several properties from such exalted personages as His Grace the Duke of Northumberland and the heirs of the late Lord Gilmore,they have not yet deigned to reside in any of these grand properties.

The largest house has been registered as an Estate Agents premises, by the name of Beholding

B..holdings,get it, You can go online and find it,but here's the weird thing, they give no telephone number and no email address.....that’s a bit exclusive don't you?

Actually there is no Estate Agents Office at this site,so why are the owners claiming that there is? Well take a wild guess!

Now it seems that the Brothers Barclay may have purchased yet another large property from the afore mentioned Duke, The same cars appear at both addresses and although the sale sign went up months ago no one has move in to the property, Park Road is rapidly becoming a ghost village.

Another property which belongs to the Duke and borders on the Barclay Brothers ever increasing empire has just become vacant,since it is known that they wanted the property at the time of their first purchase here several years ago it is I think safe to suppose that it will be theirs for the asking.

Of course no one knows for sure why the Barclay Boys are so interested in Syon Park ...but...the presence of a very large ,almost new hotel which is failing badly might be enough to get the vultures circling. The hotel went from Waldorf Astoria to Syon Hilton in a little over a year ,gone are the sommelier and the concierge, now you can order a burger if you wish ,although the food is still so expensive that the local pizza delivery place does quite well out of famished guests,when there are any.

I am monitoring the situation with all the interest of one who's home of many years is under threat, how ever,if I was in His Graces Robes I should keep a sharp eye of the Barclays as it seems they will not be content until they have their money soiled hands on the entire estate,including Syon House.

If you think this is a little far fetched take a look at what these two have done in other areas, the island of Sark. What is happening here is their usual modus operandi,so they have to use the vernacular “got previous.”

Making Pasta...

Avie has pulled off another triumph again, making her own pasta for a fantastic meal...but it wore her out, and she had to turn in early. Normal service tomorrow...

BREAD DAY AT AVIES

Whenever we run out of bread the simplest answer is to make some more,today we had not a crumb in the house. The usual stock of small loaves in the freezer had been used and the frozen dough was also on the missing list.....it looks like today is bread day then.

I love mixing the different flours to bring out the best in each type, today granary, stone ground whole meal, spelt,rye and unbleached white flour went in to the mixing bowl with the yeast and so on.

I am only limited by the size of my oven and today I made seven loves of assorted sizes,some for our use and some for friends. We all enjoy fresh bread and these days more and more people are making their own, for home made bread soon becomes the staple food it always used to be when it was made correctly ,and before the mass produced horrors of today’s supermarkets assaulted our noses with the stink of acetic acid and offend our palates by being tasteless and soggy.

Home made soup and home made bread,what could be nicer? Chip butties on home made bread,fantastic,home made muffins,tin loaves ,Coburgs and bread rolls French bread,garlic bread. Home made soda bread, the possibilities are endless,go on, have a go.

A BELATED FEAST

With Pa in hospital until a few days before Christmas our usual pre- Christmas feasts were postponed, today we decided to celebrate the completion of another of my sons books with the help of a cockerel feast.

Before turkeys became fashionable and geese were scarce, the cockerel reigned supreme at the Christmas table. They were huge well muscled birds who had gained their size during a long summer of fighting mating and scratching about for food in the fields and under hedges,and in the barns and stack yards of the farm. Free range,real free range not the bare minimum required to call a bird free range that we mostly get today.

Today I was lucky enough to have a real free range bird 14lb in weight complete with giblets and perfect in every way.

For such a fine creature I made two stuffing s,one for the crop made with dates,chestnut,walnuts, brandy and raisins.

For those who prefer a

more traditional stuffing made a large dish of herb and onion stuffing soft in the centre but with a buttery crusty on the outside. Roast potatoes of course and a selection of winter vegetables,apple sauce and gravy............perfect.

As a family we tend to celebrate anything and everything,and why not? All to often there is bad news, just switch on the T.V. And you will see I am right. OK I am not suggesting that we ignore all the dreadful things that are happening all over the world.

All I am saying is let us rejoice in the small sweet fleeting things of life. Let us turn them into family high days and holidays, so that in years to come we shall remember the good times, the happy times.

Although the cockerel we ate tonight was gorgeous,had we eaten it as a part of Christmas,with all the other treats and meats we should most likely forget all about it in time,whereas we shall never forget he huge cockerel we ate in celebration of my sons latest complete book.

Family treasures such as these will shine down the years,brighter than any family silver ever could.

Normal Service Tomorrow

Avie has asked to be excused from blogging duties tonight, and hopes to return to normal operations tomorrow!

MOTHERS PRIDE

Today my son completed another book, his fifth since last July, we celebrated by drinking shots of Rum ,this has become a tradition whenever a book is completed.

The new book is a change from his usual genre,it is a “Swords and Sorcery” epic and I must admit it is more to my taste than the sci fi books which have proved so popular, another of which he will begin in about a weeks time!

Sales are excellent, in fact they are incredible, each new book launch sparks yet more interest in the proceeding works. I know that, as his fond Mama, I am biased , but he truly does deserve the success he has worked so hard to achieve. I hope with all my heart that he will now have the freedom ,the time and the spare cash to fulfil some of his other dreams,but at the moment he has his head down.

He is insistent that he will not be satisfied until there are a dozen of his books on sale and one thing I know about my son is that if he says he will do something you may consider it done!

I confess that I enjoy having the bragging rights ,as it were and I truly am as proud as it is possible to be. As a child my son suffered severe asthma and spent very little time in school, he worked at home and still passed all his GCSE exams and his A levels with flying colours although he was obliged to sit in a room by himself as his coughing distracted the other students.

He flourished at University and did all the usual messing about in Politics and other such rubbish.

On the day he graduated I watched him collect his degree with so much love and pride.

But there is one thing I would wish my son to know and to believe and it is this. If he had not done well at school, if he had not passed he exams and achieved a degree,if he made a living sweeping up rubbish I would love him just as much as I do now.

Many years ago a teacher at my sons school told me that my son had won the hearts of the whole school,both staff and boys. His sense of humour,his care for his fellows ,and the fact that he always did his very best had won him the love and respect of those who shared his time at school.

A small example of his determination is shown in the fact that his sports master gave him A grades which astonished us all. At parents evening soon after the teacher told me that the reason for this was the fact than my son always tried to his utmost,cross country,cricket, gym, the lot. His teacher was of the opinion that if the healthy members of the class tried as hard they would soon have some world class sportsmen amongst them.

This is , I feel a wonderful tribute to someone who has always had to fight harder than most and yet has come out on top in spite of all, and the fact that he also manages to be such a loving and caring son makes me more happy than I can say.

TO SLEEP.....PERCHANCE.......

My mother tells the story,of how as a child I did not sleep at all for the first five years of my life. Having myself had

a son with similar proclivities I can well believe what she says.

My own memories are of sitting in the window seat watching the sun set and wishing I could be out of doors,my wish was granted when ,soon after I learned how the climb out of the landing window ,on to the dairy roof and the hang drop the last few feet.

The way back was a little tricky and required the ability to shin up drainpipes.....no problemo!!

Once my parents realised the I was unable to sleep (initially my restlessness had been put down to wilful naughtiness) they relented and allowed me to read in bed or watch anything on the television that they considered educational. Thus it was that at the age of seven I watched “An Age of Kings)from which my love of the English language ,Shakespeare,and of course history prospered exceedingly and became a lifelong passion.

From all of this you may assume that sleep has not played an important part in my life.....until recently. Contrary to most people as I grow older I seem to need more sleep than in my youth,and having never been much good at it I find myself at a loss.

Of course having a pair of cats playing at circuses on ones bed in the early hours does not help. Then of course we do live under the flight path for Heathrow Airport …...and so on and so forth.

Last night actually slept and dreamed that I was playing “Angry Birds” The Moth cat woke me ,she had lost her favourite toy,a fur mitten. I searched,found the perishing thing and then returned to my neglected bed and to sleep..............until awakened again by moth,who's food dish was empty.

I replenished her food supply and then crawled back into my lovely bed and again I slept...........until awakened once again by Moth who this time simply wanted a cuddle.

This time I took her to my sons room(incidentally his door was closed) and let her in to her rightful owner,then I basely scuttled back to my room,shut my bedroom door and waited for sleep to claim me.....................................I was still waiting at seven thirty when I gave up and made a pot of tea.

I sat on the side of my bed sipping my tea, fell asleep and spilled the whole cup full on me,my bed and my new rug.. *!!!..*

At this point I cannot help but wonder what alarms and excursions tonight will bring only time will tell.

NORMAL SERVICE

Avie has worked herself too hard again doing all sorts of wonderful things around the house, and asked me to write a brief excuse....hopefully back to normal tomorrow!

A LITTLE BIT OF NEWS

Actually for me it is quite an important piece of news, my G.P has referred me to the same Consultant who operated on Pa to see if he can help me with my joint problems.

Now that Pa can stand without falling over and while my son is still living at home it seems like my best chance of getting the job done. These days the intensity and persistence of the pain give me little respite and the drugs needed to control the pain are so strong that they put me to sleep,some even give me hallucinations.

Of course it is by no means certain that Pa's consultant will take my case but I shall hope for good news.

I managed to do a little cleaning today and make a strawberry jam Swiss roll so O can go to bed feeling that I have achieved something. All too often these days the pain takes control of my day and I can do next to nothing.

With luck that will soon be a thing of the past, wish me luck.........keep on wishing me luck......please.

RABBIT AND BACON PUDDING

Poaching has always been a part of country life and weather you were on the side of the poacher or the squire depended upon how hungry you were. My father was an adept and a steady stream of rabbits' pheasants and hares came our way. Trout ,caught by tickling, an art for which I became famous as a child, appeared regularly on our table.

By the time my little brother was old enough to go to school the bad times were over but Dad still like the occasional rabbit pie, as did we all. Some call it stealing,others call it living off the land, I tend towards the later view,and besides all the gamekeepers we knew were as bent as a five bob note and would have sold their grannies hide , supposing they could get a price for it.

When ever a contraband piece of game arrived at home father would say to mum or I .”Get it under a crust woman, then who's to know what the meat is.” I believe this saying ,or something like it is a country-wide one.

RABBIT PUDDING

1 rabbit

12 rashers of streaky bacon

1 onion cut into rings

1 carrot diced

12 oz self raising flour

6 oz beef suet

half a teaspoon of salt

about half a pint of chicken stock

Remove the meat from the skinned rabbit and set aside. Place the bones in a stock pot with a bay leaf, 12 peppercorns a whole onion,Add 2/3 pints of water depending on the size of the pot and bring to the boil, reduce heat and simmer for about four hours until the liquid in well reduced.

Roll the bacon in to curls and secure with a toothpick,fry in a little oil until brown then remove from heat and set aside.

Peel and slice the onion in to rings,peel and chop the carrot in to small dice.

Grease a 2pt heatproof pudding basin. Sieve the flour in to a blow ,add the salt and the suet, then add the water and mix to a firm dough. Cut off about a quarter of the dough and set aside for the lid.

Roll out the large piece of dough to fit the bowl making sure that you have about an inch of dough overhanging all round the basin. Add the stock until it almost reaches the top of the pudding.

Place the pieces of rabbit in the bottom of the lined basin,next add the bacon curls which can be cur in half if liked. Next lay the onion rings on top of the bacon and top with the diced carrot.

Dampen the edges of the crust the roll out the smaller piece of dough to make a lid. Place the pastry lid on top of the pudding , press the two edges together then roll inwards to form a ring. Decorate by pinching the edging together at 1 inch intervals.

Cover the pudding with a piece of none stick greased proof paper with a 1 inch pleat to allow for the rising. Top with a piece of foil again with the pleat. Secure with string.

Place a trivet or an upturned saucer in the bottom of a large pan. Make a sling from foil and lay this inside the and and out over both sides, this will make it easy to remove the pudding to serve.

Place the pudding into the pan and add water to just over half way up the pudding basin,bring to the boil then reduce hear and simmer for four hours .

Use some of the stock from the rabbit carcass to make gravy adding a little apple jelly or redcurrant jelly and a splash of balsamic vinegar to taste.

Serve the pudding with a big jug of gravy and mushy peas or boiled carrots.

WINTER SUNDAY

A cold night had me out of bed filling my hot water bottle in the early hours and even though I was warm and snug in bed with my “hottie” on my chilly feet I was unable to go back to sleep. I made myself a pot of tea and sat in the bedroom chair wrapped in a fur rug ,a sheepskin on my feet and the cat Moth adding her special warmth.

It had been raining,again, but now it was dry and clear, a small street lamp at the bottom of the garden showed the damp grass clearly and as I watched ,frost began to form. Soon every blade of grass and every twiggy shrub was a mass of sparkles each one diffusing the light of the street lamp in a dozen directions and turning our sere winter garden into a place of magic and mystery.....perfectly lovely.

The sunshine and sparkle did not even survive breakfast,all too soon a steady drizzle of small rain drained the little colour there was in the landscape and the gloom gathered rapidly as the afternoon progressed.

I had been out briefly on an errand and such was the damp and chill that I was glad to be home again in my warm kitchen preparing the evening meal.

Around four thirty had occasion to look out of the window across to the shelter belt,that was when I noticed that in spite of the cloud and drizzle,in spite of the fact that I was in a well lit room ,it was still light enough to see the faces of people on the other side of the road. I looked again at the clock four forty and still not dark,the year has turned,the nights are drawing out again and soon I shall be able to take a ride around the park after tea.

I have felt light of heart since making this observation,of course there is still much of winter still to come but for now the arrival of spring is inevitable....let us pray that it remains so.

A SENIOR MOMENT

I have no idea what happened yesterday,I thought I had written my blog as usual but it seems that I was mistaken.,now I know what the expression “having a senior moment” means, and I only hope they do not happen often.

I rather hope that this lapse,was due to my medication,the alternative is too awful to contemplate......oh well no use meeting trouble half way.

Yesterday was very odd in many respects as out of the b;ue I suddenly decided to empty all my bedroom drawers and with a good half of what I found in the recycle bag I found that at last I could get the damned DV D, off display and into a couple of large drawers.
This means that I no longer have a tall bookcase at the side of my bed,which I hated,in its place a nice little chest of drawers .

I have been meaning to do this for months so why suddenly yesterday I cannot tell, the spirit was upon my I suppose and the result has been well worth the upset.

My son is bashing away at his keyboard working on his latest opus,this time in a totally different genre.  With his previous works still selling very well he feels that it is time to make a change before he gets stuck in a rut. Of course there will be more  in the “Battle Cruiser Alamo”series,at least four each year, but he has many other fish to fry, and good luck to him.

Pa smiles so much more these days and the difference that this small fact makes to us all in huge,and tonight he offered to wash up for me as I was feeling a bit wobbly, kind soul that he is.

And now for my next trick I intend to vanish under the bed clothes and not come out again until morning............It would need a magic spell to keep me in bed and asleep for more than an hour.
Still nothing ventured and all that....here we go.

AVIES ALL IN ONE CHOCOLATE CAKE

Everyone has had enough of fruit cake by now, so if any one out there has to do a birthday cake try this one. It's quick,it,s delicious and it's practically foolproof.

6 oz butter soft but not melted

6 oz caster sugar

6 oz self raising flour

1 teaspoon of baking powder

2 tablespoons of Bournville cocoa powder(not drinking chocolate)

1 teaspoon of vanilla essence

3 eggs beaten

a little milk to mix.

Set oven temperature to 350 o C. Grease and line two eight inch sandwich tins.

Put all the ingredients in a bowl and beat well for about three minutes by hand or just one with an electric whisk. Pour into two eight inch greased and lined sandwich tins and bake at 360oC for about thirty minutes.

Remove from the oven and turn on to wire trays to cool.

For the filling

3 oz butter softened

6 oz icing sugar

two dessert spoons of cocoa powder

a few drops of vanilla essence.

Place all the ingredients in to a blow and beat well. The mixture should be quite pale and be very light and fluffy.

For the topping

150 g plain chocolate

1 oz butter

2 oz icing sugar

Melt the chocolate and the butter together and then add the icing sugar,the mixture should be quite runny. While still warm pour over the cake ensuring that the top is covered and allow any surplus to drip down the sides.

You may if you wish add some white chocolate shards to the top of the cake when it is almost cool.

I once finished the decoration of one of these cakes by placing a dozen Belgian truffles around the top of the cake.

You may also as in the cake in the photograph make extra butter cream and swirl it around the top and sides of the cake.

Now, did I say this was a cake for dieters? Well did I?

WHAT IF ?

With the entire world in crisis with every country burdened by colossal National Debt it seems to me to be inevitable that there will be casualties,what is it they call it now,”collateral damage” and some sections of society could be sacrificed to ensure the survival of the rest.

To be sure it will not be discussed out in the open in Parliamentary debate matters such as these will be discussed behind closed doors in the same way as the German elite discusses,with all the calmness of a group of men organising a flower show, the destruction of millions of Gypsies. Homosexuals, disabled people and Jews.

Now let me see,how might it be made to work ,ah yes. With a population of disenfranchised young people for who, there are no jobs, less and less opportunity for further education, no chance of buying or even renting a home of their own,in short with no future. It is at this time that the government insists on older people being made to work far beyond the age of sixty five..

While this may and I stress may ,help the pension problem it will certainly make it harder for the youngsters to find work, and perchance cause them to resent the old who are in their way.

Massive cuts to benefits. Huge hikes on university costs, cuts in housing benefits, changes in child benefit …...and then the Government announces that the State Pension will be triple locked(I still think it a stupid expression)

Night not the disaffected young people begin to see the elderly as the cause of their poverty.

The overloaded N.H.S.is floundering under the weigth (quite literally we are told) of elderly obese, hospital beds are being taken up by old people with Altzheimers Disease, and other complaints peculiar to old age.

Every time \I have watched a news programme for months it has been the same tale Blame the old ,blame the old,blame the old..............................

This morning much was being made of the fact that the interest on savings might rise soon which will benefit the elderly......at least the ones who have savings. Notice that they do not mention the fact that these lifelong savers have reaped practically no benefit from their nest eggs for years,thanks to the crooked way in which banks and government have managed the economy.

It seems to me that a pattern is forming here and as a disabled person of past sixty years of age I am beginning to feel as the Jews in Germany must have felt shortly before Krystallnacht.

How long before people like me become targets for the rage of the young,

I excuse you if you feel that my suspicions are alarmist and yet how little do desperate people need to make them lash out at the thing which they feel is hurting them. Look again at Nazi Germany.

A people made desperate by years of punishing and humiliating treatment from the winners of World War 1 ,a people who were easy to divide and rule by unscrupulous politicians who gave them a common enemy....someone to blame....some one to hate........do you get my drift.

DAMN ALL POLITICIANS AND DAMN ALL NEWS PRESENTERS!

And further more a pox upon all those smart assed pundits hauled in by the ears to commentate on news items. Am I angry? You bet your britches I am!

Last night while watching the B.B.C. News I watched a segment in which the newspapers are perused and commented upon by a couple of guests. I cannot tell you who last nights excuses for intelligent human beings were,and this is a pity as without their names I cannot place upon the pair the curse they so richly deserve!

A headline in one of the papers commented upon the “Triple lock” ,.....stupid expression.... placed upon state pensions by the Chancellor George(we're all in it together) Osborne. In their opinions this measure was simply a bribe to make sure the elderly”of whom there are far too many” would vote for Conservative at the next general election.

They insisted that the elderly were loaded with money and rather than having their income secured money should be taken from them and given to more worthy members of society.

The money should be given to those who have to used food banks......excuse me................I personally know a number of senior citizens who rely on food bank in order to survive. Especially in winter when so much of their pension is spent on heating and lighting.

Give the money to those with children they cried. Yes I agree that it is scandalous that in our country today British children are going hungry and are cold ,but how will starving the old and sick help to save our beleaguered economy?

As I listened to this clap-trap I become so angry with the pair of over privileged,ignorant ,opinionated twerps that I could have screamed.

Our crackpot Government have set aside,ring fenced and so forth huge amounts of Taxpayers money to provide aid for third world countries, you could n't make it up.

For the record these two maggots also felt it was scandalous that children should receive free school meals,much better to spend the money on housing.

If our people cannot afford to feed their children,if the elderly must go hungry and sit huddled in blankets how do these Oiks suppose they can afford to buy or even rent a decent home.

For their information most pensioners not have Private Pensions. Private Health insurances,a little place in the country or the south of France. They live a hand to mouth existence and more than likely spend less on food in a week than the ignorant baggage on last nights news spends on a pair of tights!

I blame the B.B.C for giving air time to such air heads as these. If we must spend time rustling tomorrows newspapers can we please have a panel of better informed types ,THANK YOU!

Let us not forget the reason why we are all in this bloody mess,it was not the elderly,who's pension funds were plundered by Gordon Brown. It was not those who have been rendered unemployed and are now called scroungers by the very people who caused this bloody mess!

It certainly was not the disabled,nor was it the children and young people of this country who's futures have been sacrificed upon the alter of corporate greed and political ineptitude,who created this bloody mess!

The guilty are still patronising the "high end shops" they are still drinking fine wine in the best restraunts, for them nothing has changed....All in it together my Aunt Fanny!!

And as for the two maggots in question I wish for them the misery of trying to live on the pittance given to the elderly,the sick and the unemployed. I wish for them the experience of going hungry so that their children can eat. I wish for them in old age the horror of watching the snow fall in the knowledge they have not enough money for the heating bill.

Come to think of it ,a dose of this treatment would not hurt anyone who thinks that senior citizens are scroungers. Karma.

End of rant!

MORE ABOUT GRANNY MUGWUMP

As a child I had the luck,and sometimes the ill luck to so have my mothers parents living with us. Our home was a large old farm house with big rooms,it had more drafts than your average castle and in winter no amount of fires would penetrate the Arctic character of the bedrooms.

My Grandfather was a dear,he was perfect as a grandfather in every way Granny was a different matter to be sure, and it is she who occupies my story.

Granny had been born in to a family of means, not aristocracy by any means but with her father in trade and her uncle a well known artist money was not a problem.

She had one surviving younger sister a third child much favoured by her mother had died at the age of five a grief so great that her mother never truly recovered. Some years after Granny Mugwump had died her sister told me that when the youngest sister died there mother ,in her grief had screamed out why couldn’t it have been Alice! By the “roaring twenties” Granny “Alice” was in popular demand at tennis parties and charabanc excursions,tea dances and concert parties,she was hansom rather than pretty with a pair of huge sea blue eyes which I am told she used to good effect. In her bucket hat; drop waisted dress and Louis heels she looked the perfect “Flapper”.

For her twenty first birthday she received from her parents a lovely gold chain on which was suspended two circles of gold held together with five gold balls and hanging inside the circles was a golden bird set with pearls and carrying in its beak a sizeable diamond set in gold and connected to the birds beak by a tiny golden chain. This and the matching ring that came with it were especially made for her by her parents,but being Mugwump she preferred the camera given to her by her uncle and in time she became an accomplished photographer.

She became engaged to my grandfather but appears to have had a change of heart when she was proposed to by the eldest son of a china factory owner in the Potteries,they toured around in his little car and seemed perfect for each other, but it was not to be. Her parents were strict and insisted that her engagement to my grandfather was binding and she must marry him.

It was all very romantic and rather tragic because by the time the married they both realised their mistake. However they shook down together as well as they could considering they were totally incompatible.

Life with Mugwump was interesting and often painful as she had no patience at all with small children and the “seen but not heard “ rule was applied at all times. There were times when I was a child that I wished her anywhere but with us ,her temper was uncertain at the best of times and my long hair was regularly pulled when I annoyed her.

I wish with all my heart that I had know of the events in her life that would have been enough to turn anyone’s heart to sadness and ill temper.

I remember holding her hand after Grandpa’s funeral she sat dry eyed yet desolate staring into the future,or remembering the past. I shall never know which but for the remaining years of her life,and she lived to be 100 she always spoke of Grandpa with affection,but when the photos of her days of touring with her forbidden sweetheart were before her she would fall silent and after a while she would smile,and sigh before putting them in her special box which had a lock with,the rest of her dreams.

FOREBODINGS

Last night while watching the wind lashed trees take yet another battering from the rapid fire storms we have been experiencing of late I noticed that my right knee felt icy cold, within half an hour my right knee also felt as it I had placed a bag of frozen peas thereon..

One often hears the expression, “I can feel I in my bones.” Well I feel it in my knees when it is going to snow.

One August morning some years ago I announced that my knees felt cold, a sign of snow. Well of course my family flee about laughing,we were in the grip of a heat wave,none -the -less I was adamant. Within twenty four hours a hail storm, with stones big and heavy enough to crack a car wind shield, by the time the storm ended the ice chippings lay several inches thick,and the entire garden was in ruins,cut to pieces by the freak storm.

This evening I heard that there are severe snow storms happening in the United States ,now I am certain ,snow is on the way. Every day my knees get colder as the change in the weather approaches,so take my advice folks and dig out your woollies and thermals...you are going to need them.

In all fairness I must temper this advice with the fact that since the onset of arthritis I has become difficult ,almost impossible even to be accurate about when...but...to date the knees have never lied.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

ALL WET AND WINDY !

The New Year has begun rather like a very rude parrot joke I heard many years ago (see title), and oh how I loath the days when it never really gets light. In spite of this however we are managing to dash out in between the squalls on the odd errand and returning home to our cosy cottage almost makes going out seem worth while.

The lethargy which I have been fighting for the past few months still has me firmly in its unpleasant grip and this is making life difficult as I never seem to have the strength to accomplish much these days.

This morning was fun,I gave my son a cookery class which today was the making of beef burgers from scratch. None of those horrid frozen,cardboard atrocities peddled by supermarkets ,these are made with steak mince and fresh herbs,by adding different ingredients such as finely chopped sun dried tomato,chopped olives,a teaspoon full of mustard or horseradish to the basic mix the flavour can be changed and of course lamb. pork or chicken mince can be used.

I must say he did very well ,mixing the ingredients thoroughly and shaping the burgers very nicely.

Now that he is doing so well with his writing he will soon be leaving home and setting up his own establishment and since he is VERY particular as to what he eats he needs to learn how it's done....pronto!

He is in the middle of writing his latest novel and all seems to be going well,I love to see him so happy in his work and the public seem to like his work ,his sales figures for the past few weeks have broken all records.

As I write the wind is driving the rain in to the windows with such violence that the window sills are full of water and we have deployed old towels to sop up the puddles,the cats are furious as they usually spend much time in the windows which are at the moment very damp and inhospitable.

Soon now I shall take a hot shower and then snuggle down in my lovely bed,gone are the days when I danced till dawn or walked in the woods at midnight. Still life has its compensations and I have no doubt that the company of one of our delectable cats will make up for much as I drift off to sleep.

Good night to you all.