14.03.10 - mother's day

This morning, I was bought a steaming hot mug of coffee up to bed by Himself. 

As I lifted up the mug, drawing in the fragrant rich scent, two monsters launched themselves on to the bed at high speed. We, coffee and me, bounced somewhat, and much to both our surprises, the coffee stayed in the mug and didn't lurch out, it did however do a very spectacular mini tsunami.

Clutching cards and gifts the boys wished me a happy mother's day. 

A red wrapped gift had a poem tied to it. It went as follows -

A PAPER CLIP because you hold things together

when something falls apart

A PLASTER since you helped me when I needed mending

A TISSUE for all the tears you've dried

A COTTON BALL to cushion the bumpy roads ahead

A SMILEY FACE for if I do good, you do this

AN ELASTIC BAND to bind us together in love

A MINT because you're worth a mint

And inside the red wrapped gift was a paper clip,  a plaster, a tissue, a cotton ball, an elastic band and a mint. And the smiley face? Well that was drawn inside a handmade card - all done by a 9 year old Youngest.

I was so touched.

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The continuing saga of the 52 things new recipes.......

18. Pound Cake - rather nice. The first one I added almond essence and the second (to see if the first one wasn't just a fluke and I could repeat the success) had vanilla essence and lemon icing - yum.

Been a quiet week for new recipes, but I have some more in the pipe line.

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I bought myself something..........

An egg skelter. 

I had seen them in another blog I follow and I really really really wanted one, but as the hens were few and their eggs even fewer, I couldn't justify buying one, but now the hens are many and the eggs are mountainous - I felt it was time! so I did - and I am so pleased with it.

13.03.10 - the stuff of nightmares and hazy sunshine

After what felt like a long long week with double shifts at work and the most brilliant clear blue skies outside, by Friday I was yearning for freedom. So early this morning we packed a picnic and set off. We went to the Peak District - somewhere I've never been and Himself last went when he was 8 or 9 years old.

The skies were leaden and it was cold. The roads were heaving with sullen car drivers hunched over their steering wheels. Never mind we said, as we were escaping from all this for the day.  

Finally, after a horrible journey there, we arrived. We escaped off the main road on to a much quieter side road and immediately felt better.

We had parked near Ladybower Reservoir. I'd never heard of it but it is famous for being the training ground for the bouncing bomb and then later the film 'The Dam Busters' .

We walked in hazy sunshine, it had finally broken through the cloud and warmed our backs as we went up to the dam wall.  It is unusual in it has two 'sink holes' or plug holes that accommodate the overflow of excess water in the reservoir.

The stuff of childhood nightmares - being sucked down the plug hole.

I found it rather uncomfortable watching the water drop into the funnel shaped hole that appeared to be floating in the water. A hole that is more than 24 meters (80 feet) across. Urgh. 

The boys thought it was great and tried to throw pebbles in - the plughole just swallowed the stones without a sound................... 

We walked on, up into the forests, then on to the moors and finally to the top of a hill with glorious views - if you could stand up long enough to see them before being blown off your feet! A cutting cold breeze was slicing a straight line through us all.

The boys looking down to the reservoir where we had started

On the way up.

We carried on down, slowly, as the path we were followed was very steep, joined a forestry track and then returned to the car ready for tea and sandwiches.

The return journey was, well, interesting. We got lost in Manchester - not the for first time either and Himself was heard to savagely mutter - never...again...never...again.... which what he said last time we got lost in Manchester...

Now, warm, fed and feeling slightly wind blown I feel better for being out, but so very glad to be home.

10.03.10 - observations, occurrences and other oddities

During the course of my day, I see life as it trundles by. Travelling at it's own pace, it brings with it the random happenings that people seem to do, almost unaware of themselves or of others around them.

Like the middle aged woman, clad only in her barely opaque camisole and palazzo pyjamas, who was vacuuming out her car, on the main street at midday. She was so engrossed in her efforts that she seemed totally oblivious that she was leaving nothing to the imagination.

Or, the plump woman today, as I collected kids for the school run. She was walking her equally plump chocolate labrador, in her aquamarine and cream tartan style pyjama pants, scruffy olive green fleece, luminescent pink socks and turquoise plastic clogs. Her hands were held aloft whilst they were encased in plastic shopping bags - ready to swoop and pick up dog poo from the now greatly relieved dog. As we drove passed she waved cheerily with the lumpy poo filled bag.

How about the woman, who was waiting at the bus stop. Warmly wrapped up in cream and brown fleeces and cords.........and what looked like a rather large pale blue jelly fish on her head. On closer inspection, it was a woolly hat with long curling tendrils - beautifully hand made.

Then there is the tall thin man, not local - with a Midlands accent and his chubby labrador - chocolate (I am seeing a pattern here) The dog is taking him for the walk, not the other way round.  The dog goes to visit all 'his friends' who pat him and make a fuss, feeding him titbits, whilst the owner hovers at the end of the lead looking excruciatingly embarrassed whilst trying to entreat the dog to continue on their walk. He inevitably fails and stands until the dog has had enough - only then, do they set off.

The village also has a variety of 'demon grannies' who are owners and drivers of mobility scooters - at great speed.  Pedestrians have been known to leap off the pavement into the path of the bus rather than be run over by said grannies........ Sadly, there is less of these aged biker chicks, there is always less after a hard winter.

I am not immune to these peculiarities of village life.
I have walked up the main street with a barrow full of plants or tools whilst the on coming bus has halted to let me by............
Or wandered out down to the post office or library, still clutching a mug of tea - such a shame to let it go cold..........

Himself and a few other foolhardy locals have been known to race each other on kids scooters. Downhill, from top the the village to the bottom, late, late, late at night, usually fuelled by something alcoholic and usually in fancy dress...........I have many photographs to prove it - one day these pictures will prove useful, its surprising how many respectable villagers have been in these races :)

Sheep have wandered through, chickens often do. 

Grannies meander and natter, children run and shout. 

Some folk walk as if on a mission, others walk as if lost. 

Hikers tramp enthusiastically and pensioners tread carefully. 

Horses, dogs walkers, cyclists, cars, buses, motorbikes.

Constant movement, 

a constant flow,

 a constant source of amusement and stories to tell.

08.03.10 - and so to work

I turn and lock the back door having said bye to the dog as she lies sulking in her basket. Her eyes avoiding me, her face turned away. It is like this every time I go to work and leave her behind. I step out into the sunshine casting my eyes over my 'patch' as I leave, absorbing it so I have it's memory safely inside of me. Walking down the gable end of the terrace and turning right onto the road, I hesitate, check for traffic then step out onto the road to cross it. There, in front of me is a friend in her garden, we wave cheerily and pass suitably English weather orientated greetings to each other. She in her cords tucked into her long brown socks and boots and fleecy hat tied up in a fetching manner and me in my black 'bovver' boots and long skirts I inappropriately wear to work.

I pass the library, where workmen have loitered in hi-viz jackets for the last three or four weeks. They look up and are disappointed, I am neither a dolly-bird  nor wearing anything worth whistling at.

Passed the Post Office with its Mother's Day display of pink balloons and pink teddies, which according to a rather hastily handwritten sign are all for sale.

Passed the old corner police station that had once briefly held a local radio station which before that had been the old bank and is now empty.

Passed the community centre with a clutch of young mums in short skirts and tight tops who are balancing their tots and babes on plump hips as they chat and laugh their way into the hall for the weekly get-together. I remember those days, same hall, same day, different mums.

I glance across the road towards the Cenotaph, there is a tired bouquet lingering sadly at it's base. I suspect one left over from last week's funeral. Cars drive by, some of the occupants I know well and wave to, some I know in passing and nod a hello and others are strangers who drive through without even looking.

Across the bridge, where years ago I clambered down and rescued a stray kitten as it clung to a semi submerged branch. Passed the old chapel, now a smartly converted house who's owners keep hens in the graveyard.  A strangely incongruous  sight of hens basking in sunlight with their backs being warmed by leaning tombstones remembering long forgotten dead.

Over the next bridge, with it's feral ducks. It's not far off spring, there will be ducklings soon.  I nod a greeting to another mum pushing a pram, I know she won't be joining the others at the community hall - not her scene, she keeps herself to herself. The bus rumbles by as I head towards the bus stop at the bottom of the school lane. Old dears heave themselves in and youngsters fall noisily out and the bus sets off again in a cloud of pungent fumes.

I wait as a car turns into the garage on my left. When we first lived here,  Himself used to use this one, but when a trainee mechanic in his enthusiasm set fire to his beloved car, Himself never returned.  Passed the new houses, that only five years ago stood a derelict mill. A health and safety nightmare of asbestos and unstable walls where the village children played imaginary games and teenagers smoked illicitly.

Along the main road, the occasional car trundling by. A lycra clad cyclist slices through the still cold air, calf muscles bulging and cheeks puffing.

Passed the house where only last week someone who'd lived in the village as long as anyone could remember,  was packed off to a home for the bewildered by a well meaning distant relative. It won't be long before this quiet terraced house with it's outhouse and 1950's wall paper and furniture will be put up for sale and stripped of all it's history ready to start a new history with a new owner.

In the distance, between the sound of my boots on the pavement and the birds singing encouragement to the sun, I can hear the local primary school - it's break-time and the children are giving voice to their temporary freedom.

Nearly at work,  I glance up, it is the most brilliant blue, not a cloud in the sky. What a shame to be inside.....

I turn up into the car park and on reaching the staff entrance, I punch in the security code and pause for a second.

Breathe. 

Time for work.

07.03.10 - The garden calls

We have spent two glorious days out in the garden. I have blizted the greenhouse, swept it out, cleaned pots, sifted compost, sorted out-of-date seeds, shifted spider webs, burnt rubbish and with the help of the boys, we have started sowing seeds. I've even set out the potatoes so they can start chitting.

At last, at last, at last we can start leaving winter behind 

and get on with spring. 

Having said that, it was so frosty overnight that the hen's water 

was frozen solid.

We've also had to hen-proof their pen. We have a new bird who has been named Florence aka Houdini-hen. She prefers to spend most of her day out in the garden fettling around in the plants and scratting the flower beds rather than settling in with the rest of the girls.

From late summer through to early spring, the girls are regularly allowed out so that they can 'garden' and find sunny spots to dust bath. But now, as shoots start to appear they are banished back to their pen much to their disgust. Hence all the escapology and houdini-like antics.

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Now, a few days ago, Youngest put in a request for a '........' and I showed some photo-clues. Well. it's time to reveal what he asked me to make...........

No - not a rabbit

No - not a monkey

No - not a donkey

No - not a teddy

and

Yes - I did lay the pieces to suggest something other than what the final toy would be....

Would you have guessed ..........

A Viking?

Meet Wilfred.

Now Eldest has his eye on something similar, so I am now making - Bill the Caveman......

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Himself found on the lid of the glass recycle box - a frozen puddle.

Filled with leaves.

Beautiful.

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52 recipes etc - 

Well, not had a catch up of any new recipes lately and thought I'd do it today and see that Colouritgreen  had exactly the same idea :) 

Recipes 1 - 14 are listed at my post dated 22.02.10 , so here goes with....

15. Fasula - a variation of Fasulada - a Greek butterbean dish with lashings of garlic, parsley, origanum and tomatoes - absolutely DELICIOUS!

16. All-in-one-Victorian-sponge - which is basically the normal recipe dumbed down to 'chuck it all in one bowl, beat the hell out of it for 2 - 3 minutes, then cook, cool and eat' so...so..so easy that I am going to show the men in my life how to do it and let them get on with it! (found this too sweet for my liking but scoffed by same men in my life)

17. Guernsey Apple and Ginger cake - hmmm, a much healthier option than cake number 16 but still not for me - I am coming to the sad sad conclusion that I don't actually like cake)

Ah well, a good weekend, we have been busy, got lots done and best of all - the sun was shining.

Hope your weekend was a pleasant as ours :)

04.03.10 and sun shines...

At last, sunshine, I've been sitting out in it's glorious spring warmth as I crochet.

There has been a funeral in the village with a procession of black clad folk trudging up to the church passed our house. In silent clusters of twos and threes, faces hidden by large black glasses or hats. Some wearing smart designer gear, designed to be seen. Some in outfits dragged out of the back of the wardrobe, last worn to the last funeral. Creased suits, sharp suits. Furs and stoles. Expensive trench coats and plastic rain coats. The occasional flash of colour in a defiant stand. A red scarf or purple flower hair clip. Car after car of sombre passengers slowly block the village, bringing it to a stand still.

Then, funeral done, the last good byes are said, the last words are given, the tears and the reunions of family members who only meet on such occasions, the congregation start to leave. Hats off, suits jackets off, ties loosened, the barely polite dash to leave. Cars parked on verges and up private drives are collected hastily.  A few of the mourners will mourn the rest just go to the pub and enjoy the remainder of their day off.

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Photo clue two: can you guess what it is yet?

02.03.10 - Happy Birthday!

Today, 12 years ago, Himself and I became not just us two, 

but us three. 

12 years ago yesterday , I went into labour in Johannesburg on a hot and sunny afternoon.

Today is Eldest's birthday.  

Born in Africa, like me, we feel bound to that country although we don't call it home any more. 

He is my ally. 

We often work successfully together using a pincer technique on Himself or Youngest 

when  we want something doing. 

We are good friends - I am very lucky to have him. 

I just wish he would eat TOMATOES 

(then my life would be complete!!)

Happy Birthday C xxxxxx

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With all the attention so blatantly directed at Eldest (according to Youngest), said Youngest has put in another request - he has asked me to make him a.... no - not going to say, you have to guess!!

So as I progress, I will show a photo as a clue - here goes.

Clue one: -  An easy one to get you started.