Eat Your Heart Out, Mr. Keiller.

We have been making marmalade.

What nicer way to spend a cold January afternoon than sitting companionably at the table chopping the warm soggy orange peel ('no dear, I know you like Thick Cut, but that's more Steak-Cut') whilst engaging in idle chatter - 'Have those cracks in the wall always been there?', 'It would be nice to visit the Van Gogh Exhibition at the R.A. don't you think? ', and 'Did I ever tell you about ..?'

Watching John skillfully retrieve the boiled pips from the juice with a potato masher was quite an eye-opener, and stirring large quantities of sugar into the boiling pulpy mixture and seeing it voraciously consumed was somehow rather seductive. And oh the pleasure of reaching that perfect 'rolling boil', followed by the heady excitement of waiting for Setting Point to be reached! We took turns recovering small amounts of the mixture to test - I virtuously returning mine to the pan, whilst John devoured his with greedy delight.

At last we decided it was ready, so whilst John ladled the steaming golden mixture into hot waiting jars, I fixed the lids and wiped the sticky outsides with a damp cloth. We were disappointed to find before going to bed, that the marmalade though almost cold, showed no sign of setting - but what satisfaction next morning to discover it had jelled perfectly.

We produced around 10 lbs of marmalade in jars of various sizes - far less now than the vast amounts we made with the help of the children over the course of many years. We used the same old recipe, and it brought back such memories of happy times with the family all involved in this productive and very satisfying winter pastime.

In bed that evening I found myself repeating over and over in my mind the words of one of my most favourite childhood poems ....

The King asked the Queen and the Queen asked the Dairymaid

'Could we have some butter for the Royal Slice of Bread?'

The Queen asked the Dairymaid, the Dairymaid said
'Certainly - I'll go and tell the cow now before she goes to bed'

The Dairymaid she curtsied and went and told the Alderney

'Don't forget the butter for the Royal Slice of Bread'

The Alderney said sleepily 'You'd better tell his Majesty

That many people nowadays like Marmalade instead'.

The Dairymaid said 'Fancy' and went to her Majesty

She curtsied to the Queen and she turned a little red.
'Excuse me Your Majesty for taking of the liberty

But Marmalade is tasty if it's very thickly spread' ...................

(I don't know why, but as a child I always loved repeating over and over - 'for taking of the liberty')

Anyway next morning we much enjoyed our Sunday breakfast boiled eggs, followed by toast AND butter AND marmalade ........ both very thickly spread!

What Resolutions??

Viv and Trev might be gladdened to hear that my freshly-baked chocolate cake proved irresistable today!

Our excuse is that we have to keep warm in this winter’s snow……….

How’s your diet going???

We Had Ourselves a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS indeed!

What a great Christmas Jon and Sam gave us all, the high spot being the most succulent Christmas dinner imaginable. This fabulous occasion HAD to go on record… BUT, having enjoyed a champagne breakfast, a long bracing walk in the snow, and then large G&T’s before the Feast, it seems I wasn’t quite as in control of my camera as I thought. Still, the resulting rather Impressionistic pictures do catch the atmosphere, I feel!


…… but next day, when we all drove out to a country pub by a snowy Common to watch the Hunt gathering, I had got my trigger finger back on form, and managed to snap our hosts relaxing before the next batch of guests arrived for the Boxing Day party.

Thank you Jon and Sam for giving us such a wonderful time , including the great treat of an outing to the cinema to see ‘Sherlock Holmes’, which was terrific!

Our Progress around the Family continued with a most enjoyable stay with the other Bell Family in Rutland. We walked beside Rutland Water, were taken into Uppingham to plunder old bookshops, and I had the pleasure of being driven by Matt, extremely competently, for the first time. The two Bell grandsons kept us fully entertained with all their banter, and were a great help when a flat tyre threatened to stop our onward journey.

Then on to Norfolk to spend a few days with Trev and Viv in their deliciously warm, cosy thatched cottage. Being once more back amongst our contemporaries, we relaxed into OAP-dom, though did venture out to meander along the Broads, and to saunter by the coast at Cromer. We spent many happy hours playing a very simple card game to rib-aching and tear-making hilarity, caused entirely by our own dismal incompetence – though it has to be said, we did have the excuse of drinking far too much good wine, and bingeing on Viv’s delectable meals.

However, we were all able to gather ourselves up at midnight to take champagne into the Square to watch a superb firework display as the bellringers Rang in the New.

Our final journey was down to Epping, Essex to have a really tasty meal with Ron and Annalies. Sadly Ron had a bad chest infection, but seemed pleased to see his brother, and managed his old cheery smile, whilst it was lovely to catch up on news with Annalies and marvel at the wonderful improvements she has brought about, making their home really comfortable.

It has been such fun to enjoy the kind hospitality of so many of our family, with snow everywhere to complete the picture. We are a very lucky old couple indeed. Thank you ALL. ……….. and a Very Happy and Healthy New Year to everyone of you. xxxxx

In December, keep yourself warm - and sleep.

….. Or so it says in a dear little book some sweet old ladies gave me after I had done a
Christmas Talk for them this week. But sleep is the last thing we want to do, with so many lovely things going on at this time of year.

Following a period of very heavy rain recently, the weather has at last turned seasonal. We woke to see the early morning sun gleaming low in the sky, lighting up capricious tendrils of mist lying just above the pastures beyond our garden. By the time I managed to photograph the scene it was already fast-changing.

Whilst I had my camera I just had to take a picture of the rambling roses on the fence outside our sitting room window. They don’t seem to understand that it’s wintertime, and are still producing fresh flowers.

We decided to make the most of the sunshine (albeit rather cold) to walk round the village and beyond, to deliver our Christmas cards to friends and neighbours (together with my current Hall Committee Minutes). We stopped on the old stone bridge over ‘our’ river, to find the water really fast-flowing and so much deeper than usual. – not surprising I suppose, given the rainfall during recent days. John stopped to photograph the ivy growing thickly over the ancient stonework, and his picture seems to fit these lines from the same gifted book…..

“The Ivy, of our native flowers
That now among the latest pours
It’s pale green bloom, and ripes it’s seed
Of black and shining balls to feed
Impervious to the winter’s frost,
The little birds …..”

We were out much longer than planned, as of course we stopped to chat to lots of people en route, returning just as Christmas lights were appearing in windows and around front doors. And our own lights too, on timer switches, provided a warm and festive welcome.

Off this evening to our Orchestra Christmas party …… ‘tis the Season to be jolly!

NO .... NO .... November!

Well, we’ve finally had to admit defeat and accept that summer has finished. September and October were so very mild, in fact surprisingly warm, and we were often able to sit and sun ourselves with our after-lunch coffees. The sun cream came into use again after a washed-out August, and John even had to bring out his trusty old panama to protect his thinning barnet.

Then last weekend our own measure of the season’s end took place. Our moving scenery, in the form of a herd of gradually fattening cattle, suddenly disappeared from the field beyond the paddock. We hoped we were mistaken, and that they were busy chewing the cud in an area of pasture which we couldn’t see from our garden, but as the days have gone by without sight of them, we have had to accept that they are probably by now vacuum-packed joints in a local supermarket. We miss them so much – they have been part of our lives since the end of April when they arrived as frisky young beasts, excitedly exploring their beautiful new surroundings from where on a clear day, it is possible to see Glastonbury Tor (not that they would have been fussed about that!)

The farmer obviously knew a thing or two, for no sooner had he sent his cattle to market, than the rains came. And how! We have been lashed by severely wet weather, and very high winds, and for good measure had a most spectacular electric storm one evening, which lit the whole sky with far more brilliance than we saw on Fireworks Night. As a result the cattle-less field has become very waterlogged, and we can see the puddles gleaming in the sunshine which dares to peek out between great downpourings of rain. Not that any of this is really surprising – the area is part of the Somerset Levels, and indeed it seems that the name ‘Somerset’ itself means ‘land of the summer people’, the flatlands presumably always having been decidedly soggy in winter.

The few remaining flowers in the garden have given up the fight and are sprawled untidily everywhere, awaiting a decent dry spell when I can get out and tackle them. The trees are fast losing their truly magnificent autumn colours, the leaves being blasted by the wind and rain.

The last roses of summer.


Roll on Christmas ! ..........

These Boots were Made ...........

A sad day today ...... I have had to consign my much-loved old boots to the bin.

These wonderful boots belonged to Kim when she was living in Oregon, and one time when we were over there she passed them on to me as they no longer fitted her. To my great delight they DID fit me perfectly, and were far superior to anything I would ever have bought for myself. They had been bought at Nordstrom, a rather up-market American store, and were in quality soft leather, with a dark fleece lining.

Those boots lived on my feet throughout the winter months for what must have been at least ten years. They have walked the streets of New York, and the country lanes of Normandy. They have ta'en the high roads and low roads of Scotland, and covered hundreds and hundreds of shopping miles in towns and cities within a wide radius of our home.

One of the few upsides of the end of summer , and chillier weather, was to bring my boots down from the attic once again. I much enjoyed giving them a good wax and polish - the leather responded so well to loving care - and then the sheer pleasure of snuggling my feet into them once again, after months of summer sandals.

I brought them down today, but could see one sole breaking away from the upper, and then remembered how last winter they had begun to let water in. In spring I had packed them away with my winter woolies, unable to bring myself to part with them.

Life will never be the same again! Those boots nestled so comfortably under winter trousers, and shoes just don't cut the mustard. I shall HAVE to look for a replacement pair, but can't begin to afford anything as luxurious again . M.&.S. here I come ....

Farewell old friends, I mourn your loss. O sole mio.

Everso 'CROSS' Scarecrows

Here in the village we have just enjoyed a Scarecrow Fun Weekend. I couldn’t believe the extent of creative genius lying hidden in this beautiful rural haven, which blossomed amazingly in gardens all round the village on Saturday morning. Happy hours were spent meandering along the lanes, meeting up with friends and neighbours exchanging gossip and appreciating the exhibits. Passing cars, which usually career through our village ignoring the 30mph signs, crawled along instead with windows wound down, and happy faces peering out.

There were over 50 scarecrows on view, but here is a taste of some of those I found particularly appealing.

Neighbours across the road from us celebrated a wedding that very day ….. so took the opportunity to join in the fun. Thankfully the weather was fine, so the bridal couple were able to leave the village church and ride their own horses a mile or so to the Wedding Reception.

This fabulous Pirate won the prize for best single exhibit.

…… and this amazing piloted aeroplane, and marooned parachutist, won the best tableau.

Topical scarecrows included a superb Michael Jackson, and such a clever tableau ‘Catching Swine Flu’ (see the flying pig, and butterfly net!)

Nursery rhymes were well represented .. Mary, Mary, and Little Miss Muffet.

Others included a fisherman, centurion, crow, caterpillar, and gardener (excused gardening with a very nasty looking foot injury!)

.

A skier careering down the roof must have taken some ingenuity to set up …..

…. And I loved this Scarecrow, made redundant at Harvest Time after sterling service out on the fields all summer, who was busy filling in his Benefits Form.

Some say that nothing much happens in the country, but what with us both getting First Prizes in the Photography, and Literacy Sections at the Village Flower Show the previous weekend, and a couple of jolly evenings during the past week supping with neighbours and enjoying quantities of good wine – needing only to stagger home on foot – I’d say that country living has a lot to recommend it.