The Homemade Heart

The August Break '16: morning light

Today's prompt is 'morning light'. I am a morning person; I love early mornings pottering round the kitchen when the rest of the family is still asleep. Meg, our sweet natured yellow Labrador, trots through from her cosy bed, and relentlessly nudges my arm with a wet nose until I pat her. I hear the wood pigeons in the garden softly cooing their distinctive song. I hear the clock ticking on the mantelpiece, a sound usually obliterated by the hurly burly of family life. The kettle boils for that welcome first cup of tea.  The morning light shines through the slats in the kitchen blinds. All is well.

 

This is day 1/31  of The August Break, an annual project hosted by blogger Susannah Conway.
Susannah provides a prompt for each day in August, from which bloggers take inspiration to post a photograph, with or without accompanying text.
I have taken part in the August Break for the past two years (click The August Break category in the sidebar to see my previous efforts) Being a Completer Finisher I worry about finding suitable images for each prompt, or missing a day, but others probably take a more relaxed view.
The August Break is open to all, so if the idea appeals to you, do drop by Susannah's blog, where you will find many other participating bloggers. There is also an Instagram hashtag #augustbreak2016 

Cookery Calendar Challenge- August

 

Welcome to the Cookery Calendar Challenge for August.

If you would like to take part (and it would be very nice if you did) please take a quick look at the Cookery Calendar Challenge page, which gives you all the information you need.

My chosen book for July was A Year at Avoca.  This book is visually very beautiful . It is a pleasure to browse through. The food photography is exquisite; the overall design is warm, inviting, suggestive of good company, good food, and gorgeous interiors (I am assuming that the images are from the various Avoca Cafes in Ireland)
Initially I wondered if the café recipes would translate well to a domestic kitchen, however this was not a problem. The book is not too 'chef-y', and with very little kitchen know-how, can be easily used by the domestic cook.
The book is divided seasonally, so it is easy to find recipes that suit the month, or just the mood.
My two chosen recipes for the Cookery Calendar Challenge were Pappardelle Salad (augmented with chicken breasts fried off in olive oil and butter for the carnivores in the family), and Pork Meatballs.
The Pappardelle Salad comprised summer vegetables, chargrilled on a griddle pan, served with fresh pappardelle pasta, toasted pine nuts, and shavings of parmesan cheese. There was also some sundried tomato pesto stirred through to sharpen up the flavour. As our house is burdened with highly sensitive smoke alarms (it's disastrous if I ever burn the toast), I did not chargrill the vegetables, but instead tossed them in a tiny quantity of olive oil and quickly cooked them in a thick bottomed saute pan over a high heat. This lent them a smoky, charred flavour, without the need to throw open doors and windows, reassure our dog, our children, and our neighbours that our house was not, in fact, alight, or call off the local fire brigade (see what I mean about the toast?)

It may be summer, and this may have been a salad, but cold pasta never does much for my family (except Isaac, who occasionally has cold pasta pesto for lunch), so I served this dish hot, and everyone thoroughly enjoyed it, including me (sans le poulet). It is always helpful to find a recipe which, with a few tweaks/ommissions/additions, will suit the whole family.

My second selected recipe was Pork Meatballs. I love making meatballs; they are savoury, delicious (for non veggies) and freeze well, so I am always on the lookout for variations on my well worn beef meatball recipe. The list of ingredients for the pork meatballs was shorter than any I have seen before, just 800g minced pork, 75g breadcrumbs, 1 egg, 1 crushed clove of garlic, and 2 tbsp. finely chopped parsley, and seasoning. These were a speedy make (further helped by the fact that I keep a few bags of ready whizzed breadcrumbs in the freezer). The sauce was a standard tomato sauce, but with the addition of smoked paprika (1/2 tsp), a diced red pepper, and 100g diced chorizo sausage. It also called for butterbeans, but as I am the lone butterbean fan in the family, I omitted them.
I fried the meatballs off to seal them, then finished cooking them in the sauce. This dish was a big hit with the meat eaters, and I was pleased that I had made a large quantity, as I was able to stash a few portions in the freezer.
The Avoca book surprised me, I didn't expect the recipes to be as good as they are, but I am very pleased that I took the time to investigate this book further, and I suspect it will become a favourite.

My chosen book for August is The Vicar's Wife Cookbook. This is a charming cookbook, written by Elisa Baynon, who, in 2007, entered a competition to write a cookery book, and won. ( Here is a excerpt from her introduction to the book). I have skimmed through this book many times, but have never cooked anything from it. I suspect I will like this book a lot.

Many thanks to those who joined the link up last month, I hope you enjoyed it and will continue the challenge with me. If you haven't joined before, and would like to, here's how to take part.

How it works:

The challenge is simple: the first week of every month, select a cookery book from your shelf, and cook two new recipes from it. The recipes can be for any meal. Cakes and bakes are excluded, but puddings are included. At the beginning of the following month, blog about the recipes you have used, and announce your chosen cookery book for the month ahead. This is an ongoing project, it's never too late to get involved, and everyone is very welcome.
I would appreciate a link back to this Cookery Calendar Challenge post in your post. Grab the Cookery Calendar Challenge badge to display on your blog too, if you like (just copy and paste the code on to your dashboard to display). You can also join via Instagram using hashtag #cookerycalendarchallenge (you will find me on Instagram @penny.homemadeheart ).

 

An InLinkz Link-up

this is not my life!

My life is very domestic, and repetitive. I spend most days cleaning, tidying, cooking, taking care of the family, plus various other commitments, which leave me much less time for treats and outings than I would perhaps wish. This summer, however, is proving the exception to the rule, and for the next few days, my humdrum domestic lifestyle is going to be exchanged for several consecutive days of pleasure. A most unusual occurrence; this is not my life!
This weekend, I am attending a two day workshop on pot throwing at the Glasgow Ceramics Studio, to which I am looking forward enormously. I am under no illusions about discovering a previously unsuspected genius for pot throwing, but if I manage to produce anything vaguely bowl shaped I will be very happy. The weekend workshop was a gift from my ever-thoughtful husband, who, though he frequently teases me about my constant quest for self-improvement, nevertheless supports me in the most practical way to attend yoga classes, or quilting courses, or photography lessons, or sing in choirs, or whatever activity or skill I decide will add to my quality of life at any given time.
The excitement does not end there, however, as on Monday afternoon I am travelling to Stoke on Trent in order to attend a Collectors' Club Open Day at the Emma Bridgewater factory on Tuesday. I am quite amazed to be going, and say again; this is not my life!
I will post a few photographs to my Instagram account from both events (find me at @penny.homemadeheart), and report back here once these unusual days of leisure and pleasure are done.

Too Much Stuff

    Since returning from holiday some days ago, I have been assessing my immediate surroundings, and coming to the conclusion that I have Too Much Stuff. This is a familiar pattern; whenever I come home after a spell away, my home always appears to be teetering on the brink of clutter-overload (I wrote about it here after a previous summer holiday). 
Our house is small, with poor storage, and I am a maximalist. The kitchen is a fine example. My dresser (it is 'my dresser' not 'the dresser') is piled high with crockery, serving dishes, mugs and jugs; the cupboards underneath are stuffed with kilner jars, empty jam jars (surely handy for something?), and pretty tins (purpose yet to be decided). The kitchen shelves are filled to capacity (and slightly beyond) with cookery and baking books. The food cupboards are packed to the gunnels with food staples; pasta, rice of every description, tins, and packets. The baking cupboard has enough flour, spices, flavourings, dried fruit, and chocolate to bake a hundred cakes. 
I have something of a siege mentality when it comes to the kitchen. When I was young, and we lived in the far north of Scotland, it was very important to be well stocked with food. The nearest shops were 17 miles in one direction, and 21 miles in the other,  and in the winter we were often snowed in for weeks at a time. Bulging cupboards and freezers were a necessity to see us through these times. I have never managed to shake off the habit of laying in stores for the winter. As soon as the temperature drops in October, I start filling the cupboards with long life milk, and tinned and dried goods, much to my husband's amusement. My parents were hoteliers, so providing plentiful food for hordes of people was ingrained in their behaviour, and some of that passed on to me. I operate on the proviso that food for the masses may be required at a moment's notice, and I must be prepared at all times for this eventuality.

My wardrobe is another area where clutter accumulates. I am only moderately interested in clothes, and I do not have a huge shoe or hand bag collection (if only!), but I do have two distinct wardrobes: fat, and not fat. The difference is about two and a half stones, which I gain and lose in a roughly three yearly cycle, with much accompanying misery. That is a story for another day, however it does mean that I have many more garments than someone whose weight is stable. Within these sets of clothes there are distinct winter and summer wardrobes, which I rotate between my bedroom and the loft, seasonally. That's a lot of clothes. Too many, in fact, yet I find it hard to dispose of garments that have seen better days.
In addition to providing for both my fat and non-fat self, another reason for keeping clothes longer than I should, is an ingrained anxiety about not having the resources to replace them. This stems from the many years of (comparative) poverty that Derek and I have lived through. I am talking strictly first world poverty here, nothing dramatic, but a budget for clothes was simply not available at various points in our lives together; most recently during the last recession, when I didn't (couldn't) buy any new clothes, at all, for five years. So now, even though we are no longer in that impecunious state, there is a small learned fear associated with getting rid of even worn out clothes.
However, I am able to overcome these irrational thoughts with a little conscious effort, and always feel mightily refreshed when I do eventually have a wardrobe purge, so the other day, armed with a roll of black bin bags and mug of tea, I had a ruthless clear out of bobbly jumpers, tired jeans, unflattering dresses and what I loosely refer to as 'dog walking clothes'. I still ended up with a bag for the loft labelled 'Do not currently fit' (note the optimism inherent in that phrase), but many garments were packed up for the charity shop, and others for the rag bag donation container which sits outside the village community centre.

Next task, the bookshelves. Books are so close to my heart that I find it terribly difficult to objectively decide which to keep, and which to lose. I constantly accumulate books, regarding a new book as one of life's greatest, and simplest, luxuries. However, as a result I am faced periodically with overflowing bookshelves. I refuse to have books seeping on to the floor in tottering piles, so roughly once a year I need to straighten my shoulders and tackle the job. Certain books I will never part with, but paper backs I have read once, and know I will not re-read, I am able to let go; cookery books I have picked up second hand, and found less than useful I can re-donate without a pang, plus the occasional clanger I have bought at full price (ouch). My 'to read' pile becomes a 'will I ever read?' pile, and usually a few of those go too.

Despite my initial reluctance to have a  clear out, I always warm to the task, and rarely miss clothes, books, or other items I donate to the charity shop (though I do recall one slightly over zealous clothing purge when I spent the following week skulking round Oxfam waiting to buy back two skirts I had too hastily discarded).
I do also have a horror of hoarding, and inwardly tremble at the thought of becoming an old lady shuffling in broken down carpet slippers through piles of old newspapers, lidless plastic containers and broken toasters in a fly infested house (dramatic, moi?) which vision is usually sufficient to send me scurrying for the bin bags.
More seriously, I also need a bit of  head-space to think through a wardrobe or cupboard (or room) clear out. During term time, day to day life is simply too hectic to take time for extra tasks, especially those which initially create more, not less, mess. The christmas holidays are not the time to do anything requiring such psychological effort, but during the long summer holiday days, I am able to take the few hours I need to make a difference, and always feel so much better, and psychologically lighter, when I do.
Do you find it hard to let go of possessions? Are you are clear eyed Clearer Outer, or a misty eyed, just in case Keeper? I would love to know.

(The photographs in this post are close up shots of Isaac's quilt. I finished the quilting on holiday, and have only the binding to do. All being well I should finish it next week, when I will post more photographs and report on Isaac's thoughts about it.)

 

Cookery Calendar Challenge- July

 

Welcome to the Cookery Calendar Challenge for July.

If you would like to take part, have a quick look at the Cookery Calendar Challenge page, which gives you all the information you need.

My chosen book for June was 'In My Kitchen' by Annie Bell. I felt in safe hands using this book; Annie Bell is a pro. The book is organised in chapters such as 'Grazing', 'Weekday Suppers', 'Sunday Lunch', 'The Main Event' (Christmas and Easter) which is easy to use. The recipes are introduced in easy going, unaffected prose which meets with my approval, and I am sure I am not alone in enjoying a recipe book which includes a chapter on Christmas (I love reading about Christmas out-of-season).

My first dish was a simple Chicken and Red Pepper Roast. Not a startlingly original recipe, but on busy week nights, this is just the sort of dish I enjoy making. 

Red peppers and onions are roasted along with garlic, fresh thyme and seasoning. The chicken breasts are fried off in olive oil until golden, then added to the veg and roasted again until done. Simple, delicious, and a good family dinner when served with crusty bread and butter.
Being vegetarian, I removed some of the roasted veg prior to adding the chicken breasts, and finished cooking them in a separate oven tray. An easy dinner for me.

My second dish was Stuffed Tomatoes Campagnardes. I can hear the collective groan in blogland; surely life is too short to stuff a tomato (to paraphrase Shirley Conran), but really this is a very simple recipe. Beefsteak tomatoes are scooped out and stuffed with sausagemeat, shallots, breadcrumbs, seasoning, plus the scooped out insides of the tomatoes. 
They are fried off, filling side down, until the suasagemeat  top is brown, after which they are flipped right side up and cooked over a low heat until fully cooked through. These are very savoury, and look colourful on the plate. They can be used as an accompaniment, or served alone as a simple supper. They can be served hot, warm or cold, so would be good picnic fodder too.

The family enjoyed these recipes, and I will use both again.

My chosen book for July is 'A Year at Avoca'. I picked up my  copy in a charity shop a year or two ago, and have looked through it several times, but have never got round to cooking from it, so am looking forward to remedying that.

Many thanks to those who joined the link up last month, I hope you enjoyed it and will continue the challenge with me. If you haven't joined before, and would like to, here's how to take part.

How it works:

The challenge is simple: the first week of every month, select a cookery book from your shelf, and cook two new recipes from it. The recipes can be for any meal. Cakes and bakes are excluded, but puddings are included. At the beginning of the following month, blog about the recipes you have used, and announce your chosen cookery book for the month ahead. This is an ongoing project, it's never too late to get involved, and everyone is very welcome.
I would appreciate a link back to this Cookery Calendar Challenge post in your post. Grab the Cookery Calendar Challenge badge to display on your blog too, if you like (just copy and paste the code on to your dashboard to display). You can also join via Instagram using hashtag #cookerycalendarchallenge (you will find me on Instagram @penny.homemadeheart ).

 

An InLinkz Link-up

perfect, really

 

Don't you agree that  preparation for a holiday is almost as pleasurable as the actual event? Not so much the boring jobs like cleaning the fridge and cancelling the milk (though there is something deliciously old fashioned about leaving  a little rolled up note for the milk man in an empty milk bottle on the doorstep). I am referring more to the delightful decisions about which holiday projects to pack; the pondering over books, the gathering of yarn, the choice of sewing projects. One holiday essential for me is a capsule baking collection; two 8" baking tins, a few spices, and a tiny bottle of vanilla extract. The bulky stuff, like flour, butter, sugar etc, I order online to be delivered with our Waitrose shop to our holiday house on the day of arrival. I also take Annie Bell's Baking Bible, one of my favourite baking books.

We are returning this year, for the fourth time, to our beloved Sugar Loaf Barn in Wales (sugarloafbarn.com )

These is something peculiarly comforting about returning to Sugar Loaf. We are not a family of adventure seekers, a fact we have long accepted without regret. We love being together, in a beautiful place, pottering about the barn, going in to Abergavenney and Crickhowell, pretty little towns both, to have a coffee, lunch, or a rootle around the shops. The boys help out on the farm,  loving the freedom and physical demand of lifting bales of hay, helping shear sheep, digging drains as they did last year, and generally getting sweaty and filthy.

Derek and I sit outside, reading, chatting, or simply gazing at the view. I adore watching the swallows dip and dart; they nest all along the farmhouse eaves, a quintessential summer sight.(If anyone has any tips on how to attract swallows to nest, please tell me, it would complete my world if swallows nested under the eaves of my house).

Our holidays at Sugar Loaf are like a more relaxing version of our lives at home, without the stressful bits. Perfect, really.

So what am I packing this year? My books are 'Greenbanks' by Dorothy Whipple; 'Here Be Dragons' by Stella Gibbons, and 'Ice In The Bedroom' by P.G. Wodehouse. I am also taking Isaac's quilt. It is half finished, I am hoping to complete the hand quilting at Sugar Loaf. I am also almost finished a hand stitched hexagon quilt top, which I am attempting to complete with some needle-turn applique. That is coming with me too. And, just in case I fly through these projects in super-quick time, I am taking some knitting, and a tiny crochet project. 

What do you take on holiday with you? What are your holiday essentials? I'd love to know.

deeply dismayed

This is not a political blog, and it never will be, but I am so deeply dismayed by the result of yesterday's referendum I want to record that reaction here.
Why, when the world is at its most unstable for decades, have we chosen to reduce our contribution to a significant proportion of it, to remove ourselves from influencing and engaging with Europe from the inside?
Britain's exit from Europe, to my mind, is a backwards step. It is xenophobic, retrograde, inward looking, selfish. Where is our generous minded, gracious, multi-cultural, open minded, inclusive society?
What message does this send to the rest of the world about the citizens of the UK?
I am no less worried about the chaotic economic instability that will follow. We have just started to crawl out of the worst recession since the '30's, and the Exit vote will plunge us right back in there. Already, a few short hours after the result, the pound has plummeted. The UK is likely to lose its AAA credit rating, significantly impacting on the government's borrowing ability.
In Scotland, we have the added horror of the possibility of another Independence referendum; the last one was the most divisive, nasty and stressful political event in Scotland's recent past.
I truly thought that when Nigel Farage revealed his true colours along with his repugnant poster campaign, that people would realise what sort of Britain they were voting for if they chose to exit Europe, but tragically they either did not realise, or even worse, they did.

 

 

surfacing

 

Since the end of March, Isaac, my youngest son, has had a really tough time. Initially, he developed a painful knee problem, which affected his mobility. Our GP referred him immediately for physio, but even an urgent referral takes several weeks. In the meantime he was prescribed Cocodamol for pain, though it made him feel so ill he stopped taking it after about a week. He took Ibuprofen instead, which helped a little. 
When he returned to school after the Easter holiday he was using a crutch to help him get around. His knee was painful, he missed doing PE which he loves, and at home he was unable to walk the dog with his dad at weekends, play badminton with his pals, or do anything very active atall.

At the end of April he started weekly physio, with thrice daily exercises at home in between times, which he carried out unfailingly.
In these first weeks, I ensured Isaac took Ibuprofen regularly, but  unfortunately its prolonged use started to cause problems. He suffered stomach pain, and overwhelming nausea, which really floored him. He stopped the brufen, but by that time his stomach was damaged, and consequently there followed a one month 'healing course' of Omeprozole; not a happy state of affairs in a 14 year old boy.

As always at these times of stress, family life, with its myriad demands, continued. I cooked, shopped and cleaned as usual, and generally organised family life. Birthdays were celebrated. I turned 52 without noticing, and Isaac turned 14. His birthday photographs from the day show him rather pale-faced, leaning on his crutch, but grinning. He enjoyed a cinema trip with a group of friends, and family meals and treats too. 
Jacob, my oldest boy, was on study leave all this time, in preparation for his Higher exams. In the months prior to Isaac's difficulties, I had assumed that the spotlight of my concern during these weeks would be Jacob, but in fact it was Isaac who was the focus of attention. Jacob was brilliant, calmly following his study plan, ticking off five exams during May, and really being an absolute credit to himself.

Then Isaac developed a second problem with his knee;  his mobility decreased, and his pain increased. He continued with physio. I negotiated half days at school. Every day I woke worrying about his wellbeing, his health, and his by now patchy attendance at school. The awful nausea had started again, and was pitiful to witness, was I missing something? Yet, though his spirits were low, and he had a lot to cope with, I could see a well boy in there, and felt sure there was nothing sinister going on, if I could just get some answers to the stomach pain and nausea, which our GP could not resolve, but seemed unconcerned by.
By half term, three weeks ago, Isaac's knee was slowly improving, but his poor stomach was not. He felt constantly sick, and in the evenings in particular, was suffering from a lot of pain. At my wits' end one Sunday afternoon, I called NHS24, and after some convoluted hours of consultations and further referrals, Isaac was seen in hospital by his (and my!) new hero, Mr Albert. Listening to Mr Albert questioning Isaac, and watching his skilled examination, was like witnessing a detective solve a crime. He distilled all the facts and information, and came up with a definitive diagnosis.
It seems that the cocktail of medications had not only caused problems in Isaac's stomach, but also elsewhere in his system. Each problem exacerbated the other, and the end result was Isaac's ongoing pain and nausea.

Thankfully, the problem could be resolved without any invasive treatment, and we left late that night clutching a prescription, both feeling extremely relieved that we had an answer, and, more importantly, a solution. Isaac started his new medication early next morning, and by the end of the first day, I could already see a tiny improvement.

Three weeks later, Isaac has now finished with all his medications, and yesterday he was discharged by the physio. He feels well! (How good it feels to type those words!). Tomorrow, for the first time since the end of March, he will walk in to school without a crutch. 
I feel I am surfacing after all these weeks of worry, anxiety, and stress. I feel buoyant and optimistic, and am looking forward so much to the summer holidays, and all our summer plans, which I will talk about another time.
Blogging, both writing and reading, has not been part of my daily or weekly routine for many weeks, though I have maintained my monthly  Cookery Calendar Challenge posts. I am looking forward to catching up with all my blog reading, and to writing more regularly again too.

I have not until now, written about Isaac's recent experiences; respect for his privacy being the main reason.  Now that we are coming out the other side however, I do want to record a summarised record of events. Isaac has given me full permission to publish this post. I mentioned  elsewhere that my blog has become a haphazard journal of family life, and it doesn't feel right to simply ignore the experience that has been my main focus for the last several months. I am so proud of how well he has coped with everything. He is a credit to himself, and that is worth recording too.
 

 

 

Cookery Calendar Challenge- June

Welcome to the Cookery Calendar Challenge for June.

If you would like to play along, click here for the Cookery Calendar Challenge page, which has all the information you need.

My book for May was 'How to Cook' by Annie Bell.

I am a big fan of Annie Bell, her Baking Bible is one of my top three baking books (and the one I take on holiday with me every year). I have several of her other books too. All are practical, but never dull. The recipes work; a fact which can't be taken for granted with every cookery book. Annie lives part time in France, and some Gallic elegance creeps into even the most simple dishes.

'How to Cook' is divided into sections, 'Meat', 'Fish', 'Pasta' etc, which I found helpful and straightforward. The recipes are well written, and easy to follow. This would be an ideal book to give to a novice cook, as it explains the principles of cooking, but is also an excellent book to have in any kitchen, with a wide range of recipes from simple to more complex. I really enjoyed using this book and am sure it will become a favourite.

The first dish I made for my challenge was Lamb Chop Supper with Pea and Potato Crush. Easy, quick and simple, perfect for  a busy week night dinner. As a vegetarian, I did not partake, but the family assured me it tasted good!

My second dish was a simple smoked salmon frittata with mascarpone and a little lemon zest.  Served with crusty bread and salad, it was a delicious weeknight family dinner. I have made frittata many times, but tend to use a variety of vegetables, and always include small new potatoes, boiled in salted water until tender, and quartered. Annie's frittata was delicious in its simplicity. I made this for a second time later in the month, omitting the mascarpone, and substituting parmesan, which we all enjoyed. This was a good recipe choice as the whole family could enjoy it, not just the carnivores!

In my quest for organisation and good eating, I also planted up a small herb garden during the month, with basil, thyme, parsley and chives. I also planted up some mint in a separate pot, with the intention of using it in jugs of  Pimms on summer evenings (every cook must have her reward). My herb container is a large pot I used to use for boiling jam; commonly known as a 'jeely pot' in Scotland ('jeely' being 'jam'!). This was my old jeely pot, recently replaced with a slightly better version. Both were charity shop finds, and my initial intention was to re-donate this old one, however the idea of it planted up with herbs popped in to my mind and so the plan changed. (A kind friend drilled holes in the bottom for drainage).

My cookery book for June is another by Annie Bell. This time I am using 'In My Kitchen'. I have had this book for a couple of years, and have made several dishes from it, but I have by no means exhausted the possibilities, and am looking forward to another month in Annie's calming company.

Many thanks to those who joined the link up last month, I hope you enjoyed it and will continue the challenge with me. If you haven't joined before, and would like to, here's how to take part.

How it works:

The challenge is simple: the first week of every month, select a cookery book from your shelf, and cook two new recipes from it. The recipes can be for any meal. Cakes and bakes are excluded, but puddings are included. At the beginning of the following month, blog about the recipes you have used, and announce your chosen cookery book for the month ahead. This is an ongoing project, it's never too late to get involved, and everyone is very welcome.
I would appreciate a link back to this Cookery Calendar Challenge post in your post. Grab the Cookery Calendar Challenge badge to display on your blog too, if you like (just copy and paste the code on to your dashboard to display). You can also join via Instagram using hashtag #cookerycalendarchallenge (you will find me on Instagram @penny.homemadeheart )

 

An InLinkz Link-up

sometimes plain cake is just right

 

May is one of my favourite months; Mother Nature is clearing her throat and tuning up for the full blown song of summer, new life is established in field, woods and garden. A late spring favourite in my own garden is a beautiful, blowsy peony rose, which faithfully bursts into glorious bloom for a few weeks at this time of year. 
It is also the birthday month of my younger brother. He was born when I was 13, in the year of the Queen's Silver Jubilee. One of his birth gifts, from a generous friend of the family, was a pair of  silver (or 'solid silver' as my 10 year old sister and I said in awestruck tones) commemorative cufflinks, from Hamilton and Inches, 'the Queen's jeweller', a fact still referred to semi-frequently by my mother. As we were living in the far north of Scotland at the time, and our retail needs were met by a row of scruffy shops twenty one miles away in one direction, and a lone 'Mace' store seventeen miles in the other, the mere existence of a shop sufficiently luxurious to supply such elegant trifles seemed impossibly romantic to us. The uselessness of silver cufflinks for a new born baby was also impressive.
I had given my new brother a crochet blanket of wobbly granny squares, made over many painstaking weeks, in purple and cream wool. My sister, seeing this effort and fearing that she would be left behind, had started knitting him a toy, which proved, unsurprisingly, too complicated, and my Mum quietly completed it for her to give to the baby. The cufflinks were in a stratosphere far beyond these humble offerings.
The baby in question is now 6'3", lives and works in London, and is grown up enough to wear his solid silver commemorative cufflinks any time he wishes. He comes home frequently to see family and friends, and it is always wonderful to see him when he does.
Last year, I wrote about his birthday brunch here. This year he just wanted tea and cake, which I was happy to supply.

I made a simple vanilla sponge, increasing the proportions of the ingredients to fit the size of the Bundt tin. I am always apprehensive about turning out a Bundt cake, for obvious reasons, however careful brushing with melted butter, and a light dusting of flour usually ensures success. This time, a simple shake of icing sugar and some strawberries finished the cake in a manner sufficiently celebratory for a birthday, but plain enough to be eaten at 11am with tea. Sometimes plain cake is just right, and this was one of those times. (I only managed a phone shot before the cake was cut, hence the slightly squashed proportions of the image above.)
It was delicious, here is the recipe. If you have a Bundt tin languishing at the back of a cupboard, do dust it off and use it. The high proportion of cake crust to soft inside is what makes it taste so good.

Ingredients.

340g butter at room temp (and approx. 50g for preparing the tin)
330g caster sugar
310 g self raising flour (and small amount for preparing the tin)
35g cornflour
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
5 large free range eggs
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
3-4 tablespoons semi skimmed milk

Method.

Preheat oven to 180c/Gas 4. Melt approx. 30g butter and brush it over the inside of the tin lightly but thoroughly. Dust the inside of the tin with self raising flour, ensuring all inside contours are covered. Thoroughly shake the excess flour out of the tin. Set aside until needed.
Beat butter and sugar together in Kitchenaid mixer or with a hand held electric mixer until light and fluffy.
Sift together the dry ingredients. Break the eggs into a bowl and add the vanilla extract.
Alternately add the eggs and flour, mixing well with each addition, but not over-mixing, or the cake will be tough.
Start to add the milk until a consistency on the firm side of dropping is achieved, you are likely to need 3 tablespoons but may not need as much as 4.
Scrape carefully into Bundt tin, and smooth the mixture.
Bake for 45-55 mins depending on your oven. The cake should be golden and no crumbs should adhere to a cocktail sick inserted in to the middle of the cake. Set aside in tin to cool until the tin can be handled comfortably.
When the cake has cooled and started to settle in the tin (about 20 minutes), invert onto a wire cooling rack and allow to cool completely before decorating as desired.

a quilt for Jacob

I started learning how to quilt last year, and consider myself a novice. I made my first quilt by hand last summer, and the Christmas quilt mentioned in this post last autumn. It was always my hope and dream to make quilts for my family to use and love, and my plan for 2016 was to complete a quilt for each of my boys (the first of many I hope). Jacob was very interested in, and enthusiastic about having a quilt made for him, and since the beginning of February I have been working on his quilt. I finished it late last night, stitching the binding at the kitchen table when everyone was asleep, and I gave it to him this morning.
He had requested a quilt in greys, greens and camouflage, with a stag's head appliqued on a central panel. The overall feel of the quilt was to be as though made by an old trapper over-wintering in a log cabin in the wilds somewhere. With this vivid description I could see the quilt very clearly in my mind's eye, and although the end result has some mistakes and a few wobbly bits here and there, I really don't mind; these 'irregularities' probably fit the brief!
The fabric came from various sources; an old camouflage jacket of Jacob's which I filleted, saving the breast pocket and a cuff, with the idea of incorporating them into the quilt. Billow Fabrics was an excellent source of quilting cotton, and eBay also provided rich pickings. The 'running hare' fabric was a tote bag from Habitat which caught my eye in the January sale. The wadding is Hobbs Heirloom cotton. The 'tartan stags' backing fabric (the 4th picture in the collage, above) is a brushed cotton duvet cover, bought online. The quilting is simple diagonal lines, hand stitched in green quilting cotton.
Photographing a 70" square quilt outside in a stiff breeze this morning was something of a challenge, but a few clothes pegs secured the quilt to the garden fence, and the brushed cotton of the quilt's backing fabric found purchase on the weathered wood of the old garden bench, holding it securely whilst I took a few photographs.

After photographing, it was smoothed into place on Jacob's bed, where it looked instantly at home. I have mentally handed it over to him now, and don't mind if it gets crumpled, or has tea spilled on it, or lands in a heap on the floor. It is there to be used, and loved.

There was not one part of making this quilt that I did not enjoy. Everything from discussing it with Jacob, to choosing the fabric, cutting and sewing the blocks, piecing the top, even the tedious business of basting the quilt sandwich; each step was absorbing and interesting. Someone told me that a well made (i.e. secure) quilt will last a hundred years. That fact fills me with untold pleasure. I hope Jacob will continue to use his quilt for years to come. I know I will make other quilts for him, but I have a feeling that this first quilt will always hold a warm spot in his heart, and in mine.

Cookery calendar Challenge- May

Welcome to the Cookery Calendar Challenge for May.

Click here for the Cookery Calendar Challenge page, which has all the information about the challenge.

My cookery book for April was 'French Leave' by John Bourton Race.

I have owned this recipe book for a long time (I talked about it here), but have not cooked many recipes from it. It is not what I would consider an everyday or family recipe book, as many of the dishes use expensive ingredients, however the recipes are interesting, and inspiring, and the book feels very much like the work of one man who knows exactly what he is talking about. It is a genuine cook book, built on the strength of the recipes and writing, not a 'celebrity chef'  pumping out a meaningless volume for the sake of it (though it was originally written to accompany a television series, so perhaps without that project it would never have been written). In addition the recipes, though sometimes involving many steps, are reliable, and easy to follow. John Bourton Race is a chef, and it is clear when reading the recipes that he is used to having someone else in the kitchen washing up after him; he is keen on a multi-pot approach! With a little kitchen know-how, however, some of the steps in his recipes can be simplified. Probably not a book for a novice for this reason.

The two new recipes I tried from this book were Daube de Boeuf, and Warm Chocolate Tart.

The Daube de Boeuf was a big success, and was simple to make. The flavour (as I was reliably informed by the meat eaters of the family) was excellent, very rich and delicious. John Bourton Race advocates home made beef stock, but I can honestly say I will never in my life make beef stock, I used a Knorr stock pot, and it seemed perfectly adequate. It didn't look particularly pretty on the plate, being essentially brown meat; no doubt a  handful of finely chopped parsley would have lifted the appearance, but these small finishing touches can elude me on busy week nights. I served it with roast onions and small new potatoes. Here is the recipe, which I simplified very slightly by making in one pot rather than the plethora of pots and casserole dishes advised by the book (with apologies to Mr Bourton Race).

Daube de Boeuf.

2kg braising

500g smoked bacon lardons

50 ml vegetable oil

1 litre beef stock

salt and pepper

For the marinade:

1 bottle red wine

2 garlic cloves peeled and chopped

1 bay leaf

2 sprigs fresh thyme

2 strips orange rind

Method

Place the beef; lardons, garlic, herbs and orange peel in a large bowl. Pour over the bottle of wine. Stir to ensure everything is well combined. Cover the bowl with cling film and leave in a cool place, or in the fridge, overnight.

Next day, strain the marinade and reserve. Heat the oil in a heavy bottomed, oven proof pot and fry off the beef in batches, removing to a plate or bowl until all meat is browned.

Pour the marinade into the pot; bring to the boil and reduce by half.  Add the beef back into the pot, along with the orange peel, herbs and lardons. Add the beef stock and bring to the boil. Cover with a tight fitting lid and place in the oven for two hours or until the meat is tender. Check the pot; if there is still a lot of liquid round the meat, simmer gently on the stove top with the lid off, checking frequently. Remove from the heat when the meat is still very moist, and there is only a small amount of liquid in the bottom of the pot.

Eat same day with veg and carbohydrate of your choice, or even better, cool quickly, store overnight in the fridge, and gently reheat until piping hot next day.

My second recipe from 'French Leave' was Warm Chocolate Tart. Due to time constraints, I did not make the sweet shortcrust pastry specified; instead I used filo, which looked pretty, and was easy to use. The filling in this tart was, unusually, a light chocolate sponge.

 I had a slice, and thought it had a delicate flavour; the chocolate cake was light, and not too rich, and the filo gave a pleasant contrasting texture. As ever, my dear family were tripping over themselves to give me their opinions; and this received a universal thumbs down. Everyone felt it was neither cake nor tart, but a strange combination of both. Can you hear my resigned sigh from where you sit?

My cookery book choice for May is ' How to Cook' by Annie Bell. Annie Bell is one of my favourite cookery writers; her recipes are simple, elegant, and totally reliable. This is her most recent book, I have already made a few recipes from it, and am looking forward to getting to know it even better during May.

Many thanks to those who joined the link up last month, I hope you enjoyed it and will continue the challenge with me. If you haven't joined before, and would like to, here's how to take part.

How it works:

The challenge is simple: the first week of every month, select a cookery book from your shelf, and cook two new recipes from it. The recipes can be for any meal. Cakes and bakes are excluded, but puddings are included. At the beginning of the following month, blog about the recipes you have used, and announce your chosen cookery book for the month ahead. This is an ongoing project, it's never too late to get involved, and everyone is very welcome.
I would appreciate a link back to this Cookery Calendar Challenge post in your post. Grab the Cookery Calendar Challenge badge to display on your blog too, if you like (just copy and paste the code on to your dashboard to display). You can also join via Instagram using hashtag #cookerycalendarchallenge (you will find me on Instagram @penny.homemadeheart )

An InLinkz Link-up

Cookery Calendar Challenge- April

 

Welcome to the Cookery Calendar Challenge for April.
Click here for the Cookery Calendar Challenge page, which has all the information about the challenge.

My recipe book of choice for March was 'Simply Nigella', the latest offering from Nigella Lawson.  Nigella's first book,  'How to Eat', published in 1998, remains one of my favourite recipe books, and I fully respect and acknowledge her role in presenting an unfussy, relaxed cooking and eating style to home cooks. However, I found 'Simply Nigella' very hard to get to grips with; not many recipes jumped out at me, and the two I made for the Cookery Calendar Challenge were judged 'ok' by the family, but neither will be added to my repertoire of family recipes.

'Thai Turkey Meatballs' was my first recipe (though as Nigella herself acknowledges, turkeys do not exactly roam free in Thailand). The recipe itself uses a high proportion of grated courgette (wet) with the turkey mince (wet). Various other ingredients are added and then lightly mixed together to form meatballs. Though the courgette is squeezed in kitchen roll to remove some of the moisture, the meatball mixture is very slack. I didn't feel confident the meatballs would stay intact in the broth and ended up adding some breadcrumbs to bind and stabilise the mixture. Not difficult to make, but a fair bit of fiddling about, and the dish didn't receive a rave review from the family.

My second recipe was 'Chicken Shawarma' which I was quite excited about making, as it had lots of different spices in it, yet was simple to prepare. I thought it looked and smelled good when it came out the oven, but it received a lukewarm review from the carnivores in the family and I am unlikely to make it again.

Overall a disappointing start with 'Simply Nigella'. When two out of two dishes have been tolerated rather than enjoyed, it takes a leap of faith to try many more from the book. I appreciate that much of Nigella's writing is about a lifestyle, and a general vibe of on-trend recipes and ingredients channelled via her image for use by us less stylish mortals, but this time round I felt slightly wearied by it all. Positive things about the book.... attractive cover; what looks like some interesting baking recipes at the back, and make-ahead and storage notes for all the recipes.

My cookery book choice for April is 'French Leave' by John Burton Race. I talked a little about this book in my last post, it has been on my shelf for a long time; time for a good look through it again to find two new dishes to make.

Many thanks to those who joined the link up last month, I hope you enjoyed it and will continue the challenge with me. If you haven't joined before, and would like to, here's how to take part.

How it works:

The challenge is simple: the first week of every month, select a cookery book from your shelf and cook two new recipes from it. The recipes can be for any meal. Cakes and bakes are excluded, but puddings are included. At the beginning of the following month, blog about the recipes you have used, and announce your chosen cookery book for the month ahead. This is an ongoing project, it's never too late to get involved, and everyone is very welcome.
I would appreciate a link back to this Cookery Calendar Challenge post in your post. Grab the Cookery Calendar Challenge badge to display on your blog too if you like. (Just copy and paste the code into your blog dashboard to display) You can also join via Instagram using hashtag #cookerycalendarchallenge (you will find me on Instagram @penny.homemadeheart).

An InLinkz Link-up

 

chocolate bunnies in abundance

In my last post I was mulling over pudding options for our Easter feast. In the end I made tarte tatin, a classic pudding that I thought suitable for a still-chilly early-Spring Easter such as we have had this year. I didn't make anything chocolate based; there were chocolate eggs, chocolate chicks and chocolate bunnies in abundance, I couldn't in all conscience add to the chocolate load.

I have never (to my own mild surprise) made tarte tatin before, and used a recipe from 'French Leave' by chef John Bourton Race. This is his memoir of a year spent in the south of France with his family, and is full of recpies, and stories of the people he met in his quest to discover new foods and techniques. It was written to accompany a series on television, which I never saw, having picked up the book in a charity shop some years ago, long after the series had aired. It has earned space on my kitchen shelf by virtue of a recipe for cauliflower soup which is truly delicious, and a sentence which I love, describing a particular cake as 'good to eat with a glass of champagne if you have some friends coming round for afternoon tea'. When I bought the book, this suggestion struck me as ludicrously bourgeois, but with the passage of years I now regard as a very nice idea. Thus are our lives and attitudes measured in recipes. Reasons for keeping the book are now further bolstered by this excellent Tarte Tatin which was easy to make yet looked celebratory and appetising, and disappeared very quickly on the day.

Tarte Tatin

Ingredients:

125g unsalted butter

125g caster sugar

6 dessert apples

3 tablespoons Calvados

plain flour for dusting

200g shop bought puff pastry

Method:

Preheat oven to Gas 6/200c

With 100g of the butter, grease a heavy, circular ovenproof pan measuring 20cm across.

Peel and core the apples and cut them in half. Lay them cut side up in the pan, packing them tightly, as they will shrink on cooking.

Put the pan on the stove over a medium heat. As the butter and sugar start to caramelise pour on the Calvados and set fire to it.

Sprinkle the remaining sugar over the apples and dot the remaining butter in little pieces round the pan.

Turn down the heat a little and allow the apples to cook and caramelise to a golden colour; this takes 5-10 minutes.

Put the pan in the preheated oven and cook for a further 10 minutes. Remove from the oven and allow to cool a little.

Once the pan is cool enough to touch safely, roll out the puff pastry into a circle about 1cm thick and slightly larger than the base of the pan. Lay the pastry over the cooked apples and tuck inside the edge of the pan to encase the fruit.

Put the tart back in the oven for about 15 minutes until the pastry is pale golden and puffed up.

Remove the tart from the oven, allow to rest for about 5 minutes. Place a serving dish over the tart, and quickly invert the pan onto the plate, pastry side down.

Serve immediately with generous helpings of double cream.

I used home made plum brandy left over from Christmas as we didn't have any Calvados. It worked very well, imparting a delicious flavour to the apples. I did not, however, flambe . I can steel myself to set fire to the Christmas pudding once a year, but adding further flambes to the cookery calendar seems an unnecessary fuss.

No photographs of the tarte tatin, but a few of the posies from the Easter table. The vases are SylvaC pottery. My Nana had a large SylvaC jug in her house when we were children which I always loved, predisposing me to gather these over a few years from charity shops and eBay. They are now brought out annually with the Easter decorations.

 

 

a busy day ahead

 
It is 8 a.m. on  Saturday morning. Everyone else is still asleep. I am greatly enjoying the silence of the hour. I can hear the clock ticking on the mantelpiece as I sit on my laptop at Mrs Doubtfire. The bird feeders on the cherry blossom trees outside the window are quiet, just one or two draggled sparrows have come for breakfast in the steady rain. Meg greeted me enthusiastically when I came through, but she has now lost interest and has lain down on her bed again, snoring gently, dreaming of muddy walks and rabbits no doubt. Her peaceful presence is comforting.
I have a busy day ahead. Tomorrow is Easter Sunday, and we are having a celebratory meal. Lamb is traditional, but I will be cooking a glazed ham, and making a salmon coulibiac for the non meat eaters (Mum, and me), though everyone else will have some too. Lots of vegetables, and small new potatoes cooked slowly with a slick of olive oil, and plenty of salt and pepper. Pudding is still to be decided; something chocolatey for the boys, and perhaps an apple fool, or something lemony. As you can tell, I haven't done a huge amount of forward planning for this meal, but I am looking forward enormously to having everyone here.
I am confident that by the end of today the house will be tidy, the Easter decorations will be up, the food for tomorrow will be well under way. The big kitchen table will be laid with a bright cloth, and scattered with small posies of flowers. A Lindt Easter bunny will mark each guest's place the table.
However you enjoy Easter, be it for you a religious festival, or, like me, an opportunity to gather dear family and friends together for a celebration meal, I wish you a very happy day. 

a pile of new books: 2

There are few things in this world that make me happier than a pile of new books.   

I like to own books, rather than borrow them from the library. A borrowed book never has the same feel as an owned book. I worry about library books being somehow damaged, or having tea spilled on them, or simply disappearing under a pile of laundry in our (often untidy) house. I keep the library books in a quarantine, in a neat pile on the sideboard;  they can never go on to the bookcase in case they disappear for ever. Even when the boys were young, and I felt a parental obligation to initiate them into the mysteries of library membership, I never enjoyed reading them library books as much as I enjoyed reading them books that we owned. An owned book has the potential to become part of the fabric of home; a library book is only ever passing through.

One thing I do rather like though, is buying second hand library books, either from the library, when they have an occasional sale of withdrawn books, or from Amazon Marketplace. The slightly sticky, translucent, plastic covers, mildly unpleasant to the touch when reading borrowed books, once removed by the new owner, reveal an almost perfect book cover, something of a bonus in a second hand book. I also rather like the thought of the book finally having a permanent home, and becoming part of the general ebb and flow of family life.

The physical presence of books comforts me. I re-read favourite books many times, and get to know specific editions so well that I can picture in my mind's eye exactly where favourite phrases fall on the page. I can't imagine a life, or a home, without books.

The pile of books pictured is a mixture of second-hand, and new.
New is Emma Bridgewater's latest book, 'Pattern' a hop, skip and jump through some of the patterns she and her husband, Mathew Rice, have designed for their pottery business over the last thirty years . I read 'Toast and Marmalade' last year, also by Emma Bridgewater, which was a fully developed autobiography. This latest book also has a lot of autobiographical detail in it, relating to how various patterns were developed, and has a back catalogue of many of the patterns, which makes for interesting reading.

Second-hand is 'Childhood Treasures by Caroline Zoob'. An ex-library book (now denuded if its plastic cover), with lots of beautiful, inspirational photographs and clear instructions for how to recreate the embroidered, painted and patchworked treasures within. Caroline champions the idea that children should be given beautiful, tactile objects to own and play with, proposing that by being trusted with beautiful things, they will learn to love and respect them. A high risk strategy in reality, but a nice idea in print, and I (broadly) applaud the sentiment, with a few caveats. 
Another Caroline Zoob book, 'Hand Stitched Home'', new this time, full of her trademark delicate but simple stitching ideas for the home.  A book to sigh over.

A recent purchase, 'Hexa Go-Go'. The title makes me wince a little, but I was looking for some inspiration for hand quilting, and this book has some really appealing ideas, one of which I am using currently in slightly adapted form, for a very slow-growing hand stitched quilt which I started just after Christmas, when my fingers were almost physically itching to start some English Paper Piecing.

'About A Village'. This is a curious book, and one that appeals to me very much. It is a photographic essay of a village in England, called Firle. I bought it for photographic inspiration, I like the photographer's style.

My pile of new books for spring time.

 

concientious, though not obsessive

I am a conscientious, though not obsessive, recycler. I sort dutifully through the junk mail; separate plastic and paper food packaging, recycle all jars and tins, and  wash and return our empty glass bottles to the milkman when he comes for his money on a Thursday teatime. Clothes and shoes not suitable for the charity shop go to a huge sealed skip beside our community centre and are recycled. Our local council supplies different coloured bins for glass, paper, plastic, and food waste, and a complicated rota for kerbside collection which I adhere to like a good citizen. It is an easy habit to get into, and I like to think that at least some of the household waste will be reused.

Growing up in the Highlands in the 1970's, there were many examples of recycling, based not so much on the ideals of ecology, as the straightforward difficulty of disposing of unwanted items. Recycling, re-using, and re-purposing was done with a minimum of fuss, and certainly without the slight air of self-conscious congratulation that so often accompanies modern day endeavours.  No field was complete without an enamel bath or sink, removed during someone's house renovation, tucked in the shelter of the hedge for the cows to drink from. Old cars, once run in to the ground, were never towed away, but left round the back of the croft to rust; put to use as a hen house, or somewhere for the cats to sleep. A childhood friend kept several generations of guinea pigs in a broken down caravan.
Smaller household items too, were not thrown out, but re-used, sometimes with disastrous results. Our childhood was peppered with stories of children who had drunk bleach from old glass lemonade bottles, kept under the kitchen sink within easy reach of small hands. Petrol, decanted into unsuitable containers, was ripe for conflagration. Old tin cans with perilously jagged edges, filled with nails or screws, caused nasty cuts, and inevitably, tetanus. Not that any of us knew what tetanus was, but it sounded terrifying.
Happier recycling examples were old biscuit tins, or pretty chocolate boxes, usually from Christmas time, hoarded with delight and filled with small treasures. Again, this was not so much due to whimsy, but because there wasn't really anywhere to buy plastic storage boxes or containers. The nearest shop was 17 miles away, and if the owner had wasted shelf space with empty containers the locals would have taken a very dim view of such frivolous behaviour.

Childhood habits can be hard to shake off, and whilst I do not have any cars rusting in the garden, or bottles of bleach decanted into child-attracting juice containers, I do find it hard to get rid of pretty tins, or cardboard boxes that are just a good, handy size. I have to absolutely force myself to recycle all the little pots that cosmetics and body care products are packed in; they are so pretty, so sturdy, and just the right size for pins, or bobbins, or icing bag nozzles, or paper clips... I have seen myself standing at the recycling bin in minor emotional turmoil over getting rid of a nice little pot or box.

Fortunately, I also have a horror of hoarding, which keeps in check my tendency to keep hold of absolutely everything that might just come in handy for a need not yet specified at some vague time in the future. I always have a charity shop bag in the house, which fills steadily with old clothes, books etc, plus more thorough clear outs a couple of times a year, which usually result in at least a dozen bin bags going to the charity shop. I encourage the boys in this habit too, occasionally asking them to tidy their rooms and identify everything as belonging to one of four categories: keep, charity, recycle/bin, loft. (The loft category must always be the smallest, it is there for things they really cannot bear to get rid of but have no immediate use for). I don't attach a judgement to what they choose to keep or not, I want them to get into the habit of feeling in control of their environment, as well as keeping their rooms tolerably tidy. I also want their rooms to hold things that they enjoy being around, feel comforted by, or use regularly.

I started writing about recycling in this post because I particularly like the vase in the photograph above. It is a good size, and perfect for showing off the vibrant orange and yellow of the daffodils. It once held a candle (from here, though bought on holiday in Wales). When the candle burned down, I melted the remaining traces of wax by warming the container in a low oven, then wiped round with some kitchen paper and the transformation, such as it was, was complete. I kept the box too, it is a good size and well made; I keep reels of thread in it. Recycling in action; thankfully it's not always about old newspapers and empty yogurt pots.

Cookery Calendar Challenge- March

Welcome to the Cookery Calendar Challenge for March. For the Cookery Calendar Challenge page click here; and to read all previous Cookery Calendar Challenge posts, click on the Cookery Calendar Challenge category in the sidebar.

My recipe book of choice for February was 'A Love for Food: Recipes and Notes for Eating well from Daylesford' . This book felt like a 'single source' cookery book, if I can put it that way. It explained the vision of the Daylesford founders to run an organic farm, and café, and the recipes within are wholesome, varied and genuine. I really enjoyed handling, reading, and using this book, and I think it will become a favourite. Although I had previously glanced through it admiringly, I hadn't cooked from it. The Cookery Calendar Challenge encouraged me to read it in a systematic manner, and I am happy about that.

The two recipes I chose from the book were 'Corned Beef Hash' and 'Chicken and Apricot Curry'

The corned beef hash was an unexpected favourite with the family (being vegetarian, I didn't eat it, though I did taste some of the crispy potato, which was delicious). The recipe suggests home made corned brisket, instructions for which are elsewhere in the book, but I took the lazy cook's shortcut and used good quality tinned corned beef.
Having committed to following the recipes for the Cookery Calendar Challenge to the letter, I must here confess my sins, as I slightly altered the recipe from individual patty cakes, to one large patty, frittata style, with crushed potatoes, not mashed as the recipe states. I cooked it first on the hob, then browned under the grill. I scribbled a note in the recipe book to remind myself of these changes next time I make it. (Do you scribble in your recipe books too?) The corned beef hash was served with a fried egg on top. Jacob couldn't believe his luck; I always reject his requests for fried eggs on every other occasion. This was a very tasty, savoury, family style dinner.

My second choice was Chicken and Apricot curry. This was a very easy dish, and tasted delicious; another recipe I will add to my repertoire. As I am now cooking a greater variety of family meals, I have refreshed my spices cupboard, and am enjoying the colours and aromas of different spices as I cook.

My book choice for March is 'Simply Nigella'. This was a Christmas gift from Jacob, and I have been looking forward to cooking from it.

Thanks to those who joined the link up last month, I hope you enjoyed it and will continue the challenge with me. If you haven't joined before, and would like to, here's how to take part.

How it works:

The challenge is simple: the first week of every month, select a cookery book from your shelf and cook two new recipes from it. The recipes can be for any meal. Cakes and bakes are excluded, but puddings are included. At the beginning of the following month, blog about the recipes you have used, and announce your chosen cookery book for the month ahead. This is an ongoing project, it's never too late to get involved, and everyone is very welcome.
I would appreciate a link back to this Cookery Calendar Challenge post in your post. Grab the Cookery Calendar Challenge badge to display on your blog too if you like. (Just copy and paste the code into your blog dashboard to display) You can also join via Instagram using hashtag #cookerycalendarchallenge (you will find me on Instagram @penny.homemadeheart).

 

 

An InLinkz Link-up

the Famous Five

Enid Blyton books will always hold a place in my heart. As I child I loved her nature stories, mysteries and adventures, but even as a very young child I also noticed her distinctive signature, which I thought, then, as now, beautiful, with its boldly inked, evenly spaced letters, lovely rounded 'E', and most enchanting of all, the short, double line under the 'd' of Enid. 
The first Enid Blyton book I clearly remember reading myself, was 'The Adventures of Pip', a series of short stories about a mischevious elf interacting with the natural world. I read and re-read my copy,  the cover of which showed Pip dressed in a red tunic. (The first edition, from 1948, is even more charming, showing Pip airborne on a swallow's back.) Looking now at the list of contents, some 45- plus years later,  I can still clearly remember what some of the stories were about; quite a testament to Enid Blyton's story telling powers.
I remember making a concious decision to move on to her more 'grown up' stories when I was about eight, when started the enduring love affair with the Famous Five series in particular, which I read over and over. I adored them; the exciting plots, the freedom the characters enjoyed, and the presence of Timmy, the dog, who was as big a character as Julien, Dick, George and Anne, hence 'the Five' (four humans, one dog).
I was not alone in greedily reading Enid Blyton's books. Many have never been out of print, and as recently as 2012, Enid was the second most popular 'classic' childrens' author to be borrowed from libraries (second only to Roald Dahl).

Enid Blyton's books have, however, been criticised almost since she started writing; as early as the 1930's her books were considered 'bland'. In  later years, they were heavily criticised as being racist, sexist and xenophobic, and were extensively edited in the '80's and '90's by Chorion, the publishers, to reflect current mores and attitudes. Few would disagree with the removal of 'gollies', and similar characters which now jar uncomfortably. However the fact remains that children love them, albeit modern editions have some characters  removed or altered, and certain wince-making phrases re-written to make them acceptable in today's society (some think with perhaps an over zealous red pen, see here for comment) .

I had no hesitation in reading Isaac all twenty one Famous Five books a few years back. We read the series in order, and in its entirety (a luxury not available to me as a child). We both thoroughly enjoyed the plots, the characters, and the straightforward assurance that good would win out over bad, and of course the many mentions of food, which Enid Blyton describes with regularity, and enthusiasm, never allowing her characters to feel hungry in pursuit of adventure. 
When not tracking down dangerous criminals; escaping from underground caves, or seeking solutions to mysterious happenings, the Five enjoy many mouth watering meals, and in every Famous Five book there are appetising descriptions of farmhouse tables groaning with crusty bread straight from the oven, gleaming pink joints of ham, freshly made sticky buns, home made cakes, and delicious puddings with plenty of custard. Picnics also feature frequently, with an abundance of tasty sandwiches, tomatoes eaten in the hand, and hard boiled eggs, with a twist of salt in a little paper alongside, and of course, bars of chocolate to finish off the feast.

It is unlikely that many current authors would write a character like Anne, the gentle youngest sister, who delights in home making, and spreads cheer and comfort through her kindly domesticity whenever 'the Five' go camping, or  caravanning, or find themselves setting up home on an abandoned island, or in a cave. I stoutly applaud Anne's right to play to her strengths as a domestic goddess in the making. She is also clever, often working out clues first, and bravely faces her fears many times throughout the series.

Enid Blyton's writing is in and of her era, and could not be otherwise, but there is such affection for her creations that she is likely to be read for many generations to come. Isaac's 'Famous Five' books are still on his bedroom shelf, I am sure in the next big 'room tidy' they will be relegated to the loft. I do hope though, that if a time comes when he is looking for an exciting story to read to children in his care, he will remember about his old books, dust them off  and enjoy reading them aloud, perhaps also remembering when a loving mother read them to him.                                                                

Looking back, I squirm...

 

As a young teenager, Valentine's Day represented nothing less than psychological torture: would anyone send me a card, anyone at all? Flowers and chocolates were unheard of; no-one had the budget for such extravagance, but cards were occasionally exchanged. When I was about fifteen, I remember giving one card, and receiving one card. Saint Valentine slipped up a little, as the card I gave was to a boy I was hopelessly infatuated with, who wasn't remotely interested in me. The card I received was from a very sweet boy I was not remotely interested in, but who was (perhaps) infatuated with me. When I read his card, I just laughed, and showed it to my friends.
Looking back, I squirm at my indifference.

In my very early twenties, I was in a relationship with a very clever, very cool, very self assured young man. I followed him around in a state of wide eyed adoration. I couldn't believe he was interested in me; I never felt good enough for him. On Valentine's Day I rose at dawn, in my shabby shared flat, and made him a Valentine's packed lunch. I made heart shaped sandwiches, I wrapped heart shaped cookies in greaseproof paper, I polished up a perfect red apple, and made a hand drawn label, decorated with little hearts, for his bottle of juice. I tucked in a napkin decorated with hearts. I packed everything in a heart shaped box I had spent the previous evening constructing from red card. I took two buses across town to leave it at his front door so that he would find it when he left for work.
Looking back, I squirm at my neediness.

A year or two later, I fell head over heels for a dark eyed architecture student. He was older than me, the handsomest man I had ever seen. On our first date, he brought me a little cake. I was utterly smitten. On Valentine's Day, I kept my head. A beautiful, shop bought Valentine's Card was selected with care. None of that needy, hand made card stuff. He blew my expectations (downwards) by giving me a joke Valentine's card. I hate joke cards; they make me uncomfortable at the best of times. Given by him, the card represented our very different hopes and expectations for where this relationship was going, i.e. nowhere.
Looking back, I squirm at my naivety.

When I met Derek, I was not indifferent, needy, or naieve, but nor was I very romantic. It had been kind of knocked out of me, and, though undoubtedly in love, I didn't show it in a romantic way. I still don't. On Valentine's Day I will dust off my heart shaped baking tin and bake him his favourite cherry cake. That's about as romantic as I get.
But I never, ever, look back on our 27 years together and squirm.

The Cookery Calendar Challenge- February

Welcome to The Cookery Calendar Challenge for February. For  the Cookery Calendar Challenge page click here; and to read all previous Cookery Calendar challenge posts, click on Cookery Calendar Challenge category in the sidebar . 

My recipe book choice for January was 'Mary Berry Cooks', which accompanied the 2014 television series of the same name. Everyone who has ever held a wooden spoon knows Mary Berry, and I know I am not alone in my immense respect for her and her work. I find her books excellent; the recipes are clearly laid out, easy to follow, with each stage explained and any trickier steps detailed carefully, to instil confidence in the cook.

 

The two recipes I chose from the book were 'Lamb Dhansak', and '15 minute pasta'.

Although by nature a careful person , I can be slapdash when it comes to making savoury dishes, so one of my personal commitments to The Cookery Calendar Challenge is to follow the recipes with care, and use all the ingredients listed. The Lamb Dhansak recipe listed several different spices, which in turn necessitated a general purge of the spices cupboard (4 half empty jars of cinnamon anyone?), and a swift cleaning and reorganisation exercise, as well as a bit of stocking up, all of which I regard as very positive, and in keeping with the general ethos of trying to be more organised and prepared for family cooking.

The Lamb Dhansak tasted very authentic (as a vegetarian, I had to take Derek and Jacobs' word on it). The particular blend of spices didn't suit Jacob's taste unfortunately, so although the recipe turned out perfectly, I am unlikely to make it a second time.

My second recipe was Mary's 15 Minute pasta. This is a simple pasta dish, where penne pasta is served with a sauce of crispy (fried) parma ham and small chestnut mushrooms with crème fraiche. This is the sort of recipe that I would not have used prior to the challenge, as it is so simple (and anyone can throw some pasta in a pot after all). However, following the recipe carefully, using the chestnut mushrooms specified in the recipe, and taking the time to finely chop parsley to add to the sauce, and scatter over the top gave a very specific flavour and appearance to the dish, and this time, everyone enjoyed it. This one will be added to the family meals repertoire.

My recipe nook choice for the coming month is 'A Love For Food: Recipes and Notes for Eating well from Daylesford' 

For anyone wishing to join The Cookery Calendar Challenge  (and you are most welcome to do so),  here is a quick reminder of how it works.

The rules are simple: the first week of every month, select a cookery book from your shelf and over the course of the month, cook a minimum of two new recipes from it. The recipes should be broadly seasonal, and can be for any meal. Cakes and bakes are excluded, but puddings are included. At the beginning of the following month, report back on the recipes you have used, along with any thoughts you'd like to share about the recipes, the book etc, and announce your cookery book choice for the following month (no need to announce your recipe choices at this point, unless you are uber-organised of course, in which case, go ahead!)

Please remember to link back to this post on your blog when you write about the challenge. Use the Linky below to add your blog.

An InLinkz Link-up

Mum, listen to this

We are a music loving family. Derek and I both love music (our tastes differ in this, as in so many things, but it never seems to matter) and so do the boys. When they were babies, and toddlers, I had no idea of the particular joy I would experience when their adult personalities and tastes started to develop, and they would share their musical discoveries with me. Neither did I anticipate that peculiar sensation of nostalgia ( combined with a wry inward smile) when they 'discover' a song that instantly transports me back to my own youth.  One of my favourite phrases is 'Mum, listen to this'. So many of my own musical memories are now overlaid with the happiness of seeing my boys enjoy the same music.

Jacob's tastes range from Frank Sinatra, to Pink Floyd and Bruce Springsteen. One of his highlights of last year was seeing The Who live.  He even manages to study with earphones in, absorbing music along with his revision notes. One of his favourite bands is Walk Off The Earth. Significant for him as they were the first (and thus far the only) band he has seen with a friend, rather than a parent, when they played recently in Glasgow. (That was a long evening, even though we drove them there, and home). I have to agree with Jacob though, they are an amazing band; inventive, theatrical, musical.

Here they are singing their mesmerising version of Adele's 'Hello' (I always prefer Adele's songs performed by other people).

Isaac, who's guitar lesson a Saturday morning is the highlight of his week, sucks music up like a dry sponge, constantly finding new artists that he loves, and learning how to play their songs on the guitar. He favours singer songwriters; idolises Passenger (he looks daily for UK tour tickets), and loves Imagine Dragons, who he saw live last year in Newcastle. He's also partial to an '80's power ballad when the mood takes him. 

One of his recent discoveries is Jesse Daniel Smith Here is Jesse singing one of his own songs 'Simple Friday Night' It's beautiful.

deeply salty

When I wrote my first post for this blog in January 2014, I had no concept of the warm friendliness I would encounter from other bloggers, nor did I imagine the relationships I would form. I did not anticipate meeting other bloggers in 'real life' or making blog-friends with others whom I may never meet in the flesh, but whose words and thoughts I have the privilege of reading, whose photographs I have the pleasure of admiring, and whose lives - or those parts of it they choose to share- I have come to care warmly about.

One such blog-friend is Linda, whose blog, Linda's Life Journal, is a total delight. Linda writes straight from the heart about her day to day life in Texas with her family. She has immense energy, and such a zest for life her joie de vivre jumps straight off the page and smacks you (in the best possible way) right between the eyes.

Linda and I are occasional real life correspondents too; sending Christmas cards, and now and then chatting by email, so I recognised her handwriting on the surprise air mail package I received last week. When I opened it, I laughed aloud to see a substantial bag of the idiosyncratically named 'Texas Trash' that Linda makes for friends and family at holiday times. I had commented on her blog that it looked absolutely delicious when she blogged about it pre-Christmas, and Linda, with her characteristic kindness and sense of fun, decided to send me some.

The boys were back from school and clustered round, keen to taste. We all crunched our first mouthful curiously. It was crispy, deeply salty and savoury, and absolutely delicious. There were mini pretzel sticks, tiny crispy wafers, nuts (my favourite!) and tiny pieces of savoury biscuit, all of which were smothered in flavour. Linda makes up a mixture of secret ingredients and bakes the 'Trash' in the oven. We couldn't stop eating it! 

As you can see from the photograph above, taken hastily last night, before it all disappeared, there is now only a small bowlful left. What remains is earmarked for my exclusive enjoyment, on Friday evening,with a nice cold beer, which I will raise in a toast to Linda, and her kindness. 

 

The seasonal thermostat tipped

At last we are waking up in the mornings to frost, ice and snow. I feel that the universe (or at least the Scottish winter) has returned to its rightful pattern. The unnaturally mild, stormy weather of December has passed. I am reassured, actually relieved, to look outside and see snow falling, covering with silent efficiency the back garden; our newly planted patch of hedge, our fir trees, our garden bench, as well as forgotten footballs, the dustbins at the back door, and Meg's abandoned, sodden, squeaky toys. Snow is nothing if not egalitarian.

The road outside the house remains a dark grey ribbon, the temperatures not sufficiently low to turn it slippery white. The grass, trees, gravel path, last year's brown leaves and the fledgling daffodil spears in the front garden have all but disappeared, cleansed and glorified by Nature's bright white winter quilt.

We depend on the weather, and the corresponding behaviour of animals, birds, plants and flowers, to gauge where we are in the slow turn of the year. We feel the seasons in our heartbeat, in the thrum of blood in our veins. Growing up in the north of Scotland, the weather shaped our lives. Now, living in a village in central Scotland, the weather shapes my days, but those early years have made me acutely aware of the seasons, particularly winter. However even life long city dwellers recognise the signs. That first step outside in the morning, be it to pick up milk from the doorstep, walk to the station, or run the children to school tells us with one sniff of the air, one glance at the sky, and the light, where we are in the season, how comparatively warm, or cold, wet or windy it is for the time of year, and places us in the world for that day.

Our tolerance for variations within the seasonal norm is comparatively narrow, and when weather misbehaves as it did in December, it throws our seasonal clock off kilter. I spent December in a state of uneasy apprehension; the world didn't feel right. Temperatures were too high. The rain was incessant. Local fields flooded; cocky seagulls floated on the temporary lochans. Berries remained on trees, the birds able to find food not usually available in winter. Winter duvets were too thick. Winter coats were too warm. Cosy jumpers could not be worn indoors. The fire was not on all day (a particular winter pleasure that I missed very much).  

Even if the snowy weather turns milder again, as currently forecast, at least I will know that the seasonal thermostat tipped fleetingly to 'winter'. I will feel happier knowing that the rhythms of our year, at our particular spot on the planet, held true.

The Cookery Calendar Challenge '16- January

I tend to cook the same recipes for family meals, and hardly ever plan ahead. My family (dear to me as they are in every way) isn't the easiest to feed, and I have found family cooking has become a stressor in my life, rather than a pleasure. I have lots of recipe books, some well used and loved, some never used, though all bought with the very best of intentions.
My new year's resolution is to regain control and confidence in the kitchen by meal planning; shopping and cooking in a more organised, systematic fashion. In the name of accountability, I have also decided to blog about it, and set myself a monthly cookery challenge: The Cookery Calendar Challenge. 

The first week of each month I will select a cookery book from my shelf and cook a minimum of two new recipes from it. The book may be one that has been long-neglected, or one from which I cook the same things repeatedly, neglecting many of the recipes within. The recipes will be for any meal, though I suspect it will be mainly family dinner recipes, as that is my main stressor. Cakes and bakes are excluded, but puddings are included. At the beginning of the every month I will report back on the recipes, give a short review of the book, and announce my cookery book choice for the following month.  My goals for this challenge are:

1) to reinvigorate my repertoire of family meals

2) to revisit my cookery book collection in a systematic manner

3) to encourage me to plan and shop for family meals in an organised way 

If you would like to join with the Cookery Calendar Challenge, please do! It would be fun to do this with others. Start at any time; this will be an ongoing project, open to all, free to join, leave, or return whenever you like. If you blog about it, please link back to my Cookery Calendar Challenge post in your post. There's a grab badge in the side bar for you to display on your blog too if you like. (Just copy and paste the code into your blog dashboard to display) I will also be posting on Instagram using hashtag #cookerycalendarchallenge. (You'll find me @penny.homemadeheart). There is also the Cookery Calendar Challenge page here, with all the information you need.

My cookery book for January 2016 is 'Mary Berry Cooks' published in 2014 by BBC Books.

 

Firstly, sugared pecans

In the dying hours of the old year, I want to share a couple of baking recipes, whilst I can still write a post respectably labelled 'festive'. Firstly, sugared pecans. These are an annual fixture on my baking calendar, and when that first, cinnamon laden tray starts to bake in the oven, and the house smells of spice and rain (sometimes snow), I know Christmas is here. This sort of recipe is very holiday orientated, as it is low on effort, but requires you to be around the kitchen as it cooks, and if you are making many tray-fuls (as I tend to do) a whole afternoon can easily slip by in a sugary haze. The original recipe comes from a cheerful American publication called 'Sweet Christmas' by Sharon Bowers, which has lots of fantastic festive baking in it. My copy now falls open on the sugar-speckled page containing the recipe for these lovely nuts.

Ingredients

1 egg white (from L egg)

2 teaspoons cold water

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

400g pecan halves

200g caster sugar

1 teaspoon table salt

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

Method

Preheat oven to Gas 2/150 c

In a large bowl, vigorously whisk the egg white, water and vanilla extract until light and foamy.

Add the pecans and stir thoroughly so they are well coated with the mixture.

Working quickly, add the sugar, salt, cinnamon and nutmeg and turn the pecans in the mixture to ensure each is well coated. (You want to work briskly to avoid the sugar completely dissolving in the egg white.) Incidentally, don't be tempted to miss out the salt, as it is essential to round out the delicious spicy, sweet flavour of the coating.

Spread onto baking tin and bake for 30-40 minutes, setting the timer for 10 minute intervals to stir the pecans round, break up any clumps, and move those at the edges into the middle of the tray to ensure even baking. When ready, they should be totally dry,  lightly brown and toasted, with no traces of damp egg white on them.

Tip into a large clean bowl to cool down, and when completely cold, divide into bags and tie with a ribbon, or empty into pretty jars and label. Small bags slipped in a parcel really cheer up a shop bought gift, and they are also lovely to hand out to friends and neighbours with Christmas cards. 

My second seasonal offering is for gingerbread biscuits. These are not exclusively Christmassy; I often make them at Easter too. They are delightfully traditional, and ideal for decorative icing. The recipe comes from Peggy Porschen's  'Boutique Baking'  The quantities given make a substantial amount of biscuits, so could theoretically be halved, but a large batch of gingerbread biscuits is never a bad thing to have around for nibbling with a cup of tea, or to be iced and hung on the Christmas tree, or threaded on narrow ribbon across a window. This year I used some as place markers on the Christmas table.

Ingredients

5 tbsp. water

210g light brown sugar

3 tbsp. treacle

3 tbsp. ground ginger

3 tbsp. ground cinnamon

1 tsp mixed spice

250g slated butter, cold, diced

1 tsp bicarbonate of soda

560g plain flour, plus extra for dusting

Method

Place the water, brown sugar,treacle, golden syrup, ground ginger, cinnamon, and mixed spice into a deep saucepan.

Bring to the boil over a medium heat, stirring continuously.

Remove from the heat, gradually add the cold, diced butter, and stir until butter is melted and all is well combined.

Add the bicarbonate of soda and mix well.

Leave to cool to room temp.

Once cool, sift in the flour and mix slowly until all the flour is combined and a soft, slightly sticky dough is achieved.

Wrap the dough in cling film and chill for 2 hours approx., or until dough is cool and firm.

Roll out the dough on a lightly dusted surface to a thickness of 5-6mm. Cut out shapes as desired, ensuring that the cookies are all of similar size, to ensure even baking.  If the biscuits are going to be hung on a ribbon, make a hole near the top with a skewer at this stage. Once on the tray, chill again for 30 mins. (Tempting though it may be to dodge this step, it is  very important;  it helps the cookies keep their shape and definition when baked.)

Bake for 8-12 minutes, depending on your oven. These bake quickly, so be alert to the edges turning from golden to singed. The cookies are ready when they are slightly darker than when uncooked, particularly round the edges, and feel firm to the touch. Remove to wire rack to cool completely before decorating.

To decorate....

Mix up some royal icing. To do this, I separate an egg, allowing approximately half the egg white to drop in the bowl, setting the rest aside for other use. Start sifting in icing sugar. It is astonishing how much sugar an egg white can hold  (hence only using half), keep adding and mixing until the mixture is smooth and is resisting the spoon a little. It should be quite firm, but still with flexibility and movement, rather like a stiffish, glossy toothpaste.

Use a disposable icing bag. It can be helpful to stand the icing bag in a mug or jug, with a cuff turned over the top, this leaves both hands free to fill the bag. Fill about 1/3 full, and carefully twist the bag closed expelling as much air from the bag as possible. Then, either snip off the point, and pipe directly on to the biscuits, or, prior to filling the bag, slip a piping nozzle into the snipped off point (I use a number 2 nozzle), and proceed as before. Set the cookies aside until the icing is fully dry.

In The Lull...

In the lull between Christmas and New Year, I meander through the days in a pleasant stupor. The high excitement of Christmas Day is over, New Year is not quite here, and there are few deadlines, apart from meals and dog walks, both of which have assumed a wandering quality, taking place at any time between waking and sleeping (waking and sleeping arrangements also having taken on a certain fluidity), and pleasing everyone just the same. 

Days are spent reading, sewing, catching up with television, and throwing the occasional wash through the machine, or filling the dishwasher. I am glad when the afternoon darkens, and I can light the candles I have scattered all round the house; partly to enjoy their flickering glow and gentle light, and partly to conceal the fact that the floor hasn't been mopped for days.

The house is still full of festive food, and all of it more than edible. We now avoid turkey at Christmas, as no-one ever wanted to eat it the next day. The leftover meat would be frozen on Boxing Day and made in to a curry sometime in February (which nobody wanted then either). After several years of this pointless ritual, coinciding with my meat consumption plummeting to virtual vegetarianism, with the very occasional bacon sandwich, we changed our Christmas Day feast from turkey (with all the trimmings), to ham, beef, and fish (with all the trimmings). This ensures plentiful feasting on the day, genuinely tasty leftovers for many days afterwards, and almost no waste.

Minimal food preparation and ignoring the house being in a state of dusty disarray,  I have plenty of time for reading, and have a pile of delightful bookish gifts to enjoy. I am currently reading Laurie Lee's 'Village Christmas And Other Notes on The English Year'. The writing is sumptuous; lush, specific, poetic, beautiful.

Post Christmas, I also finished my first full- size quilt, which I had been working on throughout the autumn. I  have spent the last couple of evenings stitching the border. As I had opted for the aforementioned candlelight, this felt rather Bronte-esque, stitching diligently in the dim light as the storms raged outside. Here is the finished quilt draped over Isaac's legs. I had barely finished the last stitch when it was pressed into sofa service, which is just as it should be.

A quilt's eye view of the television.

I hope your days in the lull are equally pleasant (and perhaps that little bit more organised than mine). Happy festive times.

The house is quiet.

As I write, it's early on Christmas Eve morning. Everyone else is still asleep. The house is quiet. The radio is humming in the kitchen, and the washing machine is swooshing and swishing the last couple of washes until after Christmas. The tree is glowing beside me, the familiar, treasured decorations gleaming here and there as the reflection of the fairy lights catch the faceted surfaces.

The Christmas cake sits in the kitchen, fatly important in its coat of marzipan, waiting to be iced and decorated later this morning. The gingerbread houses and hearts I baked the other day await icing, they are intended as place-markers on the Christmas table, I am so looking forward to sitting at the kitchen table later to decorate each one with a name; Gran; John, Jonathan, Derek, Penny, Jacob, Isaac. Our dear family Christmas, so precious, so familiar, so much pleasure in preparing for this day of celebration. Not so much a Christian celebration in our house, as none of us are overtly religious, but a celebration of being together as a family, being thankful for and appreciative of our health, our happiness, our peaceful home, our darling boys, my dear wee mum, my darling brother.

My favourite moment on Christmas Eve is when we return from the carol service at our local church, and close the front door. The preparations are complete. The fridge and cupboards are full, the gifts are wrapped, the house is fresh and tidy, the candles are lit. Our Christmas Eve tradition is to have a supper of party food and watch 'Elf' before hanging up stockings for Santa to fill. Very unsophisticated, very simple, and 'very fun' as Isaac used to say when he was small. I hope your Christmas is 'very fun' too. Happy Christmas.

Plum Brandy and writing in the cracks

Home made plum brandy is a gorgeous drink, perfect at Christmas, being rich, aromatic and sweet without being cloying. Just right for sipping in the evening in front of the fire, or to pour into the bottom of a glass before topping up with champagne on Christmas morning. It makes an excellent gift too. I give away bottles of it to those kind souls who drop in around Christmas for a cup of tea or to hand in Christmas cards. Sending someone away with a small bottle of something warming and home-made tucked in their coat pocket feels like the essence of the festive hospitality to me.

Although I have made plum brandy this Christmas, the alcohol and fruit elements are interchangeable, lending themselves to many variations. In recent years I have made bramble brandy and redcurrant gin (particularly delicious!). Home made liqueurs are not a last-minute option, as they have to be started in the late summer. Making the liqueur is the earliest Christmas preparation of every year, and tucking the newly filled Kilner  jars into the dresser cupboard in late August engenders a delightful sensation of preparedness that is sadly lacking elsewhere in my life. We must take our comfort where we can, and jars of plum or bramble brandy do it for me. 

So whilst time may be against you for making and enjoying plum brandy this Christmas, please consider it next summer (I will try to remember to put a reminder on the blog for those who are interested!). This is how it's done:

Plum Brandy

 325g fruit of choice

200g caster sugar

600ml spirit of choice

Check over the fruit, discard (or eat!) any that is over ripe. Stone fruits, or those fruits with a slightly thicker skin, such as plums or sloes, should be  pricked with a sharp knife or skewer; soft fruits such as brambles or redcurrants should be left whole, though any stalks should be removed.

Sterilize 1litre Kilner or other jars with an airtight lid (I put jars and lids through a hot wash in the dishwasher, then place in a low oven to dry out).

Pour the sugar into the bottom of the jar, followed by the fruit, then pour over the spirit. Fill to the top and screw the lid on tightly. Invert the jar a few times to encourage the sugar to dissolve and disperse throughout the jar. Wipe the jar/s down with a wet cloth and place them in a cool, dark cupboard. Every few days for the first couple of weeks, take the jars out and give them a gentle shake. Leave for a minimum of three months.

When ready to bottle up, sterilize some pretty bottles and leave in a low oven to dry out. Pour the brandy through a sieve lined with clean muslin or a thin dish towel into a large jug, decant into bottles, wipe down and label.

Next, a brief nod to the fact that I have been absent from my desk for some weeks. No sinister reasons for this, just an increase in family commitments, combined with a particularly hectic November, meant that suddenly it was four weeks since I had sat down to write, then it was five, then six...

I missed writing here, and reading, and generally enjoying the sensation of belonging to a blogging community that embraces its members yet constantly reaches out with welcoming arms. It is a creative, supportive, and kindly community, and I have missed it. I  have realised (once again) that keeping this blog is important to me. It is in part a loose journal of events: when I read an old post (usually whilst looking vainly for a recipe and then suddenly thinking 'Oh, it's on the blog, I'll get it from there') I am very effectively reminded of time and place, the atmosphere of the moment when I was writing. The writing and photographs become an aide memoir and a (slightly haphazard) history of  family life. It is also an exercise in creating short written pieces that others may enjoy reading, and when someone does enjoy something I have written, I am deeply gratified. Gratification is not available by the spadeful, so a little sprinkle of it from blogging friends is warmly welcomed.

I also realised that my writing is done in the cracks; in the little slivers of time between other commitments; writing and photography is something that makes me feel fulfilled, yet it is the first thing to drop when life speeds up. I treasure it, but I don't value it. Having time to write feels like a luxury, not a right. How do you feel about your writing? Do you do it no matter what, or do you constantly push it to the bottom of the 'to do' list?

All being well (and it is) I should be back with another seasonal post pre Christmas. 

cosy, colourful, warm.

I like to believe my home is cosy, colourful, warm, inviting and well supplied. I spend a lot of time at home, and it is a priority to have things around me that I enjoy using, like being around, and that mean something to me. Far from immaculate, our house is quite scruffy. The paintwork is chipped, the furniture is a bit battered, and anything more than a cursory glance into the corners of any ceiling will reveal dusty cobwebs. The flooring in the sitting room needs replaced, there are always heaps of laundry; a lack of utility room means ironing baskets live in the sitting room (except on high days and holidays, when I dump them in my bedroom out of the way), plus a constantly shifting landscape of books, magazines, sewing and knitting projects, not to mention all the boys' discarded clothes, shoes and other belongings that make their way into the kitchen and sitting room, and somehow never make it back to their rooms.

I would, however, much rather the cheerful chaos, with occasional tidiness, than an impressive, antiques laden, gilt-edged, precious environment, where shoes must be taken off at the front door, edges of chairs perched on, and sighs of relief drawn on leaving. I also still shudder occasionally  at the memory of the Royal Doulton Lady encrusted apartment of a late Aunt of Derek's, where I once spent the most stressful afternoon of my life with a newly-toddling Jacob, whose sole aim was to grab, lick, knock over and smear his lunch on the crinoline-swirling ladies adorning every surface.

Part of creating a cosy, colourful, warm home is filling it with things we enjoy touching, looking at and using, be they made, bought, or received from kind friends or family. Particularly close to my heart is crockery. Shelves laden with piles of dishes, serving bowls and dishes, jugs and mugs, make me sigh with happiness. To me, they indicate that this home is one of plenty, where welcome and sustenance are always assured. Surely all those plates, bowls and mugs would not be there unless to fill with good things. Mugs of hot tea; plates for biscuits, cakes or savoury snacks, bowls to pile high with fruit or sweets, serving dishes to load with vegetables or fat golden chips at dinner time.

When choosing crockery, I like to mix vintage and charity shop finds with family hand-me-downs, and new crockery, usually  Emma Bridgewater pieces. I can't remember the first piece of Emma Bridgewater pottery that I bought, but in my mind it approximates to 2004, when we moved to our current home. Visiting the (now sadly closed) shop in Edinburgh for the first time was a pivotal retail experience and branded my home-maker's  heart with the Emma Bridgewater logo for ever.

Derek and I recently attended a wedding in England, and our route home brought us to within 10 minutes drive the Emma Bridgewater factory in Stoke on Trent. Naturally, a detour had to be made, and Derek demonstrated admirable patience in the on-site shop as I swooned, then revived sufficiently to make a few purchases. Refreshed by tea and delicious home made cake in the café, I returned for a second forage, eventually staggering back to the car with several weighty carrier bags and most of my Christmas shopping complete. 

It being a Sunday, the factory was closed, but perhaps one day I will be fortunate enough to visit during the week and enjoy a factory tour. In the meantime, allow me to share some photographs from the factory shop and café with you.

(doorway to factory shop)

 

(shop display)

(shop display)

 

(shop display)

(display wall in café)

(display wall in café)

 

a long way from there to anywhere

When I was growing up, we took our family holidays in October, and always in Britain. Not for us the sunny beaches of Majorca, or a charming house in the south of France for a sun soaked summer. Our holidays were all about slightly nippy October weeks in self-catering cottages in Perthshire; Dorset, Yorkshire, or Somerset.

They were also all about exceptionally lengthy car journeys. We lived in a tiny village in the far north of Scotland. It's a long way from there to anywhere. Our family holiday was enthusiastically, though hastily prepared for, and our mantra was always 'better take it, just incase'.  We packed enough clothes for a fortnight of probably cold/possibly warm/probably wet/possibly dry/possibly sunny/possibly windy British weather, with more bags and suitcases than the boot of our car could ever hope to hold. I took a bundle of favourite books, my sister was inseparable from her cuddly black and white panda (fortunately not life-size, though doubtless we would have determinedly squeezed it in somewhere if it had been) My brother's wooden cot would be dismantled and strapped to the roof, where it would bounce alarmingly as we rounded corners, and fly serenely a few inches above the car when we picked up speed.

We would always be late setting off, usually by several hours; one memorable year by two days. This is what happened.......

The car was packed. My sister and I were jammed amongst various bags and packages that wouldn't fit in the boot. We each had a tiny floor space just large enough to accommodate our feet; our arms were resting on parcels of rolled up towels and sheets (in those days you had to take your own linen on self-catering holidays). Even my little brother had a couple of bags jammed under his baby seat.  Mum shared her foot well with a large bag full of supplies for the journey; damp face flannels for sticky hands and faces, sandwiches, chocolate bars, flasks of tea, a change of clothes and nappies for my brother, tissues, maps, Dad's spare glasses. None of us (except my brother) could move our legs. The space between the back seat and the rear windscreen was full to overflowing with coats, negating the possibility of Dad checking the rear view mirror at any time during our two day drive to the south of England.  We were on the point of departure, in high spirits, and just waiting for Dad to finish various vital tasks he had left until the last minute. My parents were hoteliers, and there was always a lot of work involved in handing over responsibility to others when we went on holiday. We waited. Time passed. We grew restless. My sister and I started bickering; my baby brother turned hungry and fractious. Mum dispatched my sister to see if Dad was nearly ready. She returned with the message 'another twenty minutes'. We waited again, the bright October sun shining in on our expectant faces. Time drifted on, with one of us occasionally being sent inside for a progress report; always the same reply; 'yes nearly ready, go back out to the car'. After several hours we all trooped back inside for lunch. Then we all trooped  back dismally to the car, to wait again.  The hours dragged on, our spirits flagging, then (momentarily) reviving, as Dad reassured us he 'wouldn't be much longer'. As the short October day darkened to night, we went inside. Mum, stony faced, whipped up something for our dinner, then we all went upstairs to sleep in beds we had not expected to occupy for another fortnight. 

Astonishingly (though not that astonishingly if you had known my Dad) the next day continued in the same way, though this time we stayed indoors; the car sitting forlornly at the back door, still packed to the gunnels. Eventually we left at about 5 o'clock, a mere 35 hours late.

I can't remember if that was the year we planned a holiday in York, but Dad took us a further south, to Bath, because he wanted to go there instead, and nothing, certainly not a little thing like a wife and three children all expecting a holiday in York, was going to stop him. He didn't even tell us until all road signs for York had petered out, and yet our journey continued, and continued, and continued. Eventually Mum asked him when we would get to York, and he announced in confident tones that we were going to Bath instead. The additional 230 miles to an existing journey of 460 was brushed off with his usual combination of optimism and impatience. Dad was impossible; stubborn, and yes, selfish; there was always a lot of forgiveness involved in loving him, but our lives would have been infinitely more dull (though very possibly more stable)  if he had been less so. We all did love him, so very much, and we all still do. 

#50daysofilovemyhome

I enjoy Instagram. My feed fills daily with cakes, crochet, flowers, knitting, sunsets, bunting and lunches. It is colourful, inspirational, and sometimes beautiful.

Last week a particular image, posted by Kate, caught my eye. It was a photograph of a mug, but what caught my attention was the very beautiful pottery bowl beside it. I asked her about it, and she realised that she had stopped noticing it, despite, or perhaps because of owning it for some twenty years. We commented back and forth for a while about how, sometimes, we stop noticing and appreciating things that we have bought, gathered, or been given. The intrinsic beauty of the item is undiminished, but we have stopped appreciating it.

We wondered about the possibility of creating a hashtag where forgotten treasures could be gathered; where the tangible (and intangible) things that make our homes unique and, more importantly, loved, could be gathered in images and stories. We decided on #50daysofilovemyhome

Here is how Kate described #50daysofilovemyhome on her Instagram feed:

'We make our homes unique by the things we choose to collect and display and cherish. But if you are anything like me, you stop seeing them and they disappear into the landscape you call home, until someone says "that's a pretty thing" and you  get a chance to appreciate it all over again. This hashtag was made, and here is your invitation to have a look at the lovely things you may have stopped seeing, see them in a new way and share them using the hashtag #50daysofilovemyhome. It doesn't have to be 50, it doesn't have to be every day. It has been created so that we can curate the pictures in one place'  

Does this appeal to you? If so, please feel free to join #50daysofilovemyhome . Take a photograph of something that makes your home uniquely yours, be it a childhood toy, a favourite painting, or (as above) a broken mug. Post it on Instagram using hashtag #50daysofilovemyhome, and tell the story of how or why it makes your home feel like home. If you don't have an Instagram account but would like to join in, feel free to blog about it. This is a no pressure, anytime, open invitation. It doesn't have to be 50 consecutive days, or regular days, or even frequent days. If you want to post very, very occasionally, when you re-notice something lovely in your home, that is just fine.  As Kate said so beautifully, this is most definitely 'a gentle little project' .

The Dalmally Show: vegetables and flowers.

In addition to the fun of entering competitions at the Dalmally Show (read about my entries in my previous post), there was also huge enjoyment in wandering round the marquees looking at all the other entries; the beautiful vegetables and flowers, the floral arrangements, the prize dahlias and roses. 

Vegetables:

Giant vegetables:

Extreme giant vegetables...

These onions were the size of small footballs. They were one of my favourite exhibits; so perfect, so unblemished, and, I was assured by the (very enthusiastic) grower, so delicious.

Flowers:

The light shining through the marquee illuminated these roses so beautifully;

 

This floral arrangement caught my eye, perhaps because I like marmite (but only on very hot, crisp toast, served with a mug of scaldingly hot tea, and some heavily salted tomatoes)

Enchanting though giant onions and novelty floral arrangements are, there comes a point in the day when lunch is required. The carnivores were well provided for, with burgers and fish and chips a-plenty. Vegetarians less so, and eventually hunger drove me to request a cheese and fried onion roll; not the most nutritious, though actually rather delicious, especially when eaten in the fresh air, accompanied by a cup of very hot tea in a paper cup.

Of course there was live music. For a Scottish person, the skirl of the pipes does something to the inside of your scalp; it is the most astonishing sound, and thrills the blood.

The show is held at Dalmally Auction Mart, which is on the bank of the majestic and very beautiful River Orchy.

After the show, with all our entries packed back into boxes and tins, prize money collected, and the last of the stragglers leaving the show ground, I stopped on the way to our family ceilidh in the evening, to take a photograph of beautiful Loch Awe;

Argyll, home of my heart, I love you.

The Dalmally Show: a red letter day.

In every family, there are certain red letter days, unimportant to the rest of the world, but of great significance to those involved. Such a day for our family is the first Saturday of every September, when we attend the  Dalmally  Agricultural Show. Dalmally is a village in Argyll, in the southern highlands. It is in Dalmally that my heart lives, specifically in a big white, gabled house with a huge garden running down to the river Orchy. We lived in this house when I was a child, and I still yearn, daily, to live in it now. The village of Dalmally has myriad childhood memories and family connections. Mum's family come from there, my parents met there, and many of my relatives still live locally. To have a weekend every year, when we attend the show, and have a big family ceilidh in the evening, means that Dalmally Show weekend is a much anticipated date in our family calendar.

(highland cattle)

The Dalmally Show was introduced on the show website this year thus:

"Saturday 5th September 2015: Dalmally proudly presents its annual agricultural show; a celebrations of rural community and local produce. This is a well attended show where you will enjoy a range of attractions including the agricultural events on which the show was founded many years ago. These include judging of highland and commercial beef cattle; black face sheep, poultry, dogs, baking, preserves, horticulture, photography, painting, shinty match, trade stands and more"

(view from the show ground)

At the show, we don't go and see the bulls, sheep or poultry being judged, nor do we concern ourselves too much with the beer tent, or the live chain-saw carving or falconry displays. (This year there was even a modest herd of Alpacas on display, looking ruminatively over their pens at visitors.) We do watch some of the shinty (a particularly vicious highland game resembling turbo charged lacrosse, played by young men willing to die in the attempt to score a goal)

What we are primarily interested in is the  Industrial Tent. This is where the cakes; biscuits, scones, jams, jellies, and crafts are displayed and judged. This tent is where a competitive spirit, dormant for 364 of the 365 days in every year, comes gushing forth like a well spring, and otherwise composed, gentle folks (like my wee Mum and me) reveal a hitherto unsuspected killer streak. The excitement begins in April, when the show schedule is sent out, and initial decisions are made about which competitions, or 'classes' we will enter. Then comes the preparation. Knitting, sewing or crafts are done first, and stored away carefully. Jams and jellies next; the best jar from each batch put aside for the show. Last comes the perishables; cakes, biscuits, scones, dumplings, pancakes, all made in the few days prior to the show, then transported north the night before (Dalmally is about 70 miles away), in tins and boxes, to finally be delivered to the show ground early on the morning of the show. Those of us who have spent the preceding weeks or months preparing our knitting, sewing, jams, crafts and cakes, lay out our entries, have a last fuss and fret over them, eye up the competition and leave, as the tent closes for a few hours for the all- important judging.

The boys enter competitions too. Now regarding themselves as too mature for the Childrens' tent, they take their chances with the adult classes, entering photographs, the occasional cake, bake, or craft item.

(the judges table, ready for action!)

After leaving our entries to be judged, we go for breakfast, discuss our entries (again), then return to the show late morning. By this time, the crowds have started to arrive, the pipe bands are tuning up, the smells of hot dogs, venison burgers, coffee and beer are adding their aroma to the distinctive whiff of cattle, and most importantly, the tents have re-opened after judging. Now we find out what, if any prizes we have won.

This year was a good year. Jacob got a 2nd for his 'item made of wood', a beautiful toolbox.

 Sadly Isaac did not get placed for his beautiful lemon drizzle cake, but we all ate it after the show, and agreed it was the best non-winning lemon cake we had ever tasted.

I was not placed for my strawberry jam, or my carrot cake, or my custard creams, or my child's knitted pom-pom hat.

However I was a little more successful with my cakes.

 My Celebration Cake, Lemon Drizzle cake and Black Forest Gateaux were all 1sts, and my Lemon Drizzle also earned a Special Award. These together meant that for the first time ever I won a cup, for the overall winner of the largest classes in the baking section. This was very exciting.

My preserves did quite well too.

A 1st for my raspberry jam (a lucky punnet of raspberries I think), two 2nds for spiced tomato salsa and matrimony jam (a jam made from two complimentary fruits, mine was cherry and blueberry), and two 3rds, one for lemon curd, and the other for fruit jelly (I made mandarin).

No photographs of Mum's preserves, but she did exceptionally well, and won a cup (also for the first time) for the most points in the preserves section!

On to handcrafts:

Highly Commended for my knitted wash bag and make up bag, and another for my quilt, which I hand stitched on holiday in the summer, and a 3rd for my button bracelet. I have never made a button bracelet before, and found it a little fiddly, but was happy to be placed 3rd.

My favourite entry, and the one I was most delighted to win, was in the class for 'best use of 1 metre of fabric'.

For this entry, I lined a vintage basket, and covered three books. I made a padded glasses case, a mug cosy, and covered a little tin for biscuits. I made a little caddy for a single teabag. I called my entry 'Tea, biscuits, and a good book'. I was delighted that Mum got 2nd in this class too, for her beautiful child's sun dress, with a little bag, and hairband, and covered hanger.

After the show, in the evening, we had a fantastic family ceilidh; all generations eating, drinking, singing, laughing and story-telling together. This too is an annual institution, and one we would hate to miss. The youngest family member there is 12, the oldest is my redoubtable Nana, who at 95 is the Matriach of the family. She attends the show during the day, and examines all entries with a learned eye. She has been winning baking, preserve-making and gardening competitions for more than seven decades; she knows a good entry when she sees it. She takes a note of exactly who has won what, remarks on how well deserved or otherwise the awards have been, and more remarkably still, remembers what prizes were won the year before. After touring all the tents at the show, she settles down on a camping chair to watch the shinty, which she follows assiduously, and at night, she attends the family ceilidh. She makes a small concession to her mature years by leaving before midnight, but when we visit her next morning, she is up, dressed and ready for an eager discussion about the show, local and family news (aka gossip) and usually sends us on our way with a few pots of her home made jam.

Next time I will share some more photographs of other, non-family entries to the show, and a few more views of  gorgeous Argyll.

The August Break '15: Smile

Drawing to the end of the August Break photography challenge, which sees participating bloggers post a photograph every day in August, helped along by a list of prompts from project host Susannah Conway.

Today's prompt is 'smile'

Essential, I feel, to avoid a sugar-coated list of 'things that make me smile'. Instead, this story: last night whilst searching through old SD cards, I found a collection of photographs from a long ago holiday when the boys were small. We were all entranced by them; I could hardly believe that the two huge teenagers looming over my shoulder to look at the photographs were the same little boys in the photographs. However, they were, and are. One thing that has hardly changed strangely enough, is their smiles. I leave you with a few photographs from the rediscovered collection. 

 

The August Break '15: Listening

Day 29 of the August Break with Susannah Conway, and today's prompt is 'listening'

I am not much of a television woman. I lived without one for years before I met Derek, and even now am a far from avid viewer. However, I do listen to the radio every day, and would miss it terribly if I had to do without it.

The August Break '15: In My Bag

Continuing with Susannah Conway's August Break, posting a photograph every day in August, aided by Susannah's list of prompts.

There was a similar prompt in last year's August Break. The contents of my bag have hardly changed since last year, I still have the same purse, make up bag, even the same notebook (now very shabby) so this year I am sharing the contents of a different bag.

This bag contains the fabrics I chose last week at my quilting class. Everyone in the 'Beginners' class is making the same thing; a quilted bag. Whilst making the bag, I am learning how to use a rotary cutter and rotary ruler, how to sandwich the fabrics together, and how to use a walking foot on the sewing machine. All very interesting and helpful, and once I have mastered these rudimentary skills, the world will, I hope, be my (quilted) oyster. (The 'stags' fabric will be the outside of the bag, the 'tiny hearts' will be the lining.)

The August Break '15: Favourite Recipe

Continuing with the August Break, posting a photograph every day in August, following host Susannah Conway's list of prompts.

The prompt for day 27 is 'favourite recipe'

I find it impossible to choose a single favourite recipe; I don't even think I could choose a favourite recipe book. This is my current selection in the kitchen. I have an informal sorting system; books that haven't been used for over a year or so are moved to another bookcase elsewhere in the house, then if they are not retrieved from there for another year they are quietly donated to the local charity shop. Thus the firm favourites remain, and others just pass through...

The August break '15: Door

Day 26 of the August Break with Susannah Conway, and today's photo prompt is 'door'

This is Jacob's door, with a stag horn he found one year in Argyll when he was quite a small boy.

The August Break'15: Green

Day 25 of the August Break, hosted by Susannah Conway, who has supplied a list of photo prompts for the month, encouraging bloggers to post a photograph every day in August.

Today's prompt is 'green'

I keep things pretty simple in the garden in the summer: lots of shrub roses, lavender, and some pots of geraniums. All very pretty, and lots of green foliage.

 

The August Break '15: In The Distance

Day 24 of the August Break hosted by Susannah Conway.

Today's prompt is 'in the distance'

Our village is surrounded by farmland. At harvest time the cylindrical bales of hay provide photogenic silhouettes, interesting shadows, and focal points in the foreground, middle ground, and in the distance.

The August Break '15: Water

Day 23 of the August Break photography challenge hosted by Susannah Conway, where bloggers post a photograph a day for the month of August, assisted by a list of prompts from Susannah.

The prompt for day 23 is 'water'

Water, evaporating from school shirts on the washing line in the sun and the wind.

The August Break '15: Curves

Day 22 of the August Break, hosted by Susannah Conway, where bloggers post a photograph a day in August. There is also an Instagram account at #augustbreak2015 where you can see lots of interesting interpretations of Susannah's photography prompts. You can find me there at penny.homemadeheart.

Today's prompt is 'curves'

The retro curves of my hardworking Kitchenaid.

Much used, much loved.

 

The August Break '15: Real Life

Joining in with Susannah Conway's 'August Break' project this month, posting a photograph every day in August, following a list of prompts.

Today's prompt is 'real life'.

In real life I am 51.

In my head I am 35.

    

I remember a conversation I had with my mum a few years back; the gist being that I didn't want to 'turn out' in a particular way. 'Oh for God's sake' she exclaimed with asperity, 'You're a grown woman, how much more turning out are you expecting to do?' (Mum is a highland woman who doesn't mince her words.) She did have a point. I guess in real life we do reach an age that we more or less stay internally for ever, though always of course with room for improvement and the ripening of character.

The August Break '15: Two

Joining in with Susannah Conway's August Break project, posting a photograph every day in August. The prompt for today is 'two'

Two favourite serving bowls. These are in almost daily use, large enough to use as a mixing bowl for smallish cake mixtures; to whip up a quick pancake batter, or to serve vegetables or potatoes in at dinner time.

They are both Emma Bridgewater design, the pomegranate bowl being a particular favourite. It was made for Persephone Books and has 'One Hundred Persephone Books' stamped round the outside rim. I sometimes worry that I will break it if it is in constant use, but I enjoy the colours and pattern so much, as well as the shape, weight and size of the bowl, that it's a risk I am prepared to take.

The August break '15: Sweet Delights

Day nineteen of the August Break, posting a photograph every day in August.

Today's photo prompt is 'sweet delights'

It's jam making season here at the moment.

The August Break '15: Look Up

Continuing with the August Break, hosted by Susannah Conway, posting a photograph every day in August using Susannah's list of prompts. The August Break can also be found on Instagram at  hashtag #augustbreak2015. (You can find my Instagram account at penny.homemadeheart)

The prompt for the eighteenth day is 'look up'

So I did.

 

The August Break '15: Reading

Continuing with the August Break, posting a photograph every day in August, helped along by a list of prompts from Susannah Conway, who is hosting the project.

The prompt for day seventeen is 'reading'

Reading? Yes, always, though this summer I have been absorbed in other activities and my reading habit has slipped. I am not worried, I have a life long love of books;  the occasional surface ripple does not disturb the deep waters below. I will return to reading again when summer slows into  autumn, and the longer nights return.

 

The August Break '15: Fire

Another scheduled post  for the August Break, as Derek and I are away this weekend.

Today's prompt is 'fire'

Fire pit at Sugar Loaf Barn , from our holiday this year.

The August Break 15: Art

I am elsewhere this weekend, but have scheduled my weekend posts for the August Break, hosted by Susannah Conway.

Today's photo prompt is 'art'

From my trip to the Uffizi gallery in Florence in April.