love those cupcakes

A day out

On Wednesday I met up with the Gorgeous Girlie in London.  We wanted to see the exhibition of Scott's final expedition to the South Pole at the Natural History Museum and luckily managed to buy cheap-ish rail tickets.   

Sadly no photography was allowed inside the exhibition (which I found incredibly moving - such determination and effort and human endurance).  The purpose of Scott's expedition was primarily scientific research and the various scientists in the team set out to study antarctic weather, zoology and glaciology.  But Scott also aimed for a small group to reach the South Pole and be the first people to do so.  On 17 January 1912, five members of the team reached the Pole, only to find that Amundsen's Norwegian group had beaten them to it. All five perished during the return journey. 

There are lots of original items and personal artifacts on display and if you do visit the exhibition, which I highly recommend, make sure you take plenty of tissues.

Whilst I waited for my girl to arrive I had a mooch around the V&A which I don't think I've visited previously.  Too early for this, I would have visited the British Design exhibition there (they have one of my Trimphones) if I'd had more time but I didn't fancy paying and then rushing round the exhibits.

We also treated ourselves to afternoon tea at the Lanesborough on Hyde Park Corner.  It started with a reviving glass of champagne, followed by strawberries and cream.  Then came the highlight for me, a shot glass filled with a tangy orange jelly, buttermilk cake and the lightest chocolate mousse all topped with a square of chocolate, raspberry and gold dusted honeycomb.  After that was a variety of little sandwiches (baby brioches filled with egg, roast vegetable wraps, beetroot in beetroot bread, buffalo mozzarella, tomato and pesto in a mixed grain bread  and cream cheese and cucumber fingers), mushroom tartlets, cakes and little pastries.  Finally we were presented with scones, served with pots of lemon curd, raspberry preserve and clotted cream, and little toasted teacakes. Copious amounts of refreshing pomegranate (me) and apple and mango (Girlie) tea were drunk throughout.  The service was impeccable and we were even given the cakes we hadn't managed to eat in a box to take home.  (The husband polished those off in seconds.)

Kings Cross station has undergone considerable improvement and the new departures concourse is rather impressive.

I always forget that London means lots of walking and by the time I alighted the train at Darlington station I was aware I was moving very strangely. (Little did I know that putting one foot in front of the other was about to become rather more challenging but more of that in the next post.)

Oh, look what came home with me.

Ding dong indeed.

 

The scarf of Olympic proportions. A whodunnit.

We don't often walk on the pier when we're at the beach (for a start, it used to be so much longer with a bandstand at the end) but it was the main reason for today's visit.   We'd heard (thanks for the little hint in your last comment, Jill, we're a bit slow on the uptake here) that guerilla knitters had struck - attaching a 50yards long knitted scarf, depicting a variety of Olympic sports, to the pier railings.

My favourite bit of the scarf:  the (not so) synchronised swimming.

If you fancy having a go at knitting your own Olympian, you might find this book useful.

 

Summat for nowt

It was very hazy at the beach yesterday, the  colours washed out. The sand was covered in shiny black dust.  Sea coal,  once a regular feature of the beaches round here and a remnant from the collieries which used to be active further up the north east coast.   Waste coal tipped into the sea would be washed up on the beaches by strong tides.  Years ago, when the coal mines were operating, it was a common sight to see people gathering this free fuel.   (I'm told that once dried, the high quality sea coal is wrapped in newspaper and the coal cones are then burned.)  I thought the practice had died out with the collieries but two sea coalers were busy yesterday, filling their bags with the black stuff. 

Filling in the gaps

The weather at the weekend was just how I like it, sunny but still bitterly cold, perfect for treating a little white car to a much needed wash and polish.  There was also a solitary afternoon drive to one of the many abbeys in these parts, with Barton Hollow at full volume on the CD player, and shopping for the dress with the bride to be (which turned out to be easier than anticipated).  We've had a family dinner in a North Yorks country pub where the wait was far too long for what turned out to be just so so food, not half as tasty as the cauliflower cheese we had for lunch.  Two cats and a dog have had their annual examinations and jabs  (one's too fat, one doesn't clean his nose properly and the other needs a special diet) and our bank account has been subsequently depleted.  Not much is happening in the garden (I didn't get round to planting any of the bulbs I'd bought) though the camellia buds are almost ready to burst into flower and the Corsican hellebore is brightening a corner.  Too many pancakes have been flipped and eaten with too much maple syrup. Biscuits, chocolate and cake will not be consumed until Easter Sunday.  

A celebration

In answer to the question at the end of the previous post, yes, it could.  And it did.  Sort of.

Yesterday was the mister's birthday so, after he'd walked some of the dogs at the RSPCA shelter and opened his cards and presents, we popped up the road to Stokesley for a wander round and coffee stop.  I'd forgotten it was market day so we stocked up on fruit (I bought Seville oranges with the maybe overly ambitious aim of having a go at marmalade making), veg and flowers.   We took the scenic route back, through Great Ayton where the river was partially iced over and it was far too cold for an ice cream.  The day finished with the three of us going out for celebratory pizzas, the birthday boy's supper of choice, and then home for cake (Nigella's buttermilk birthday cake).  

Oh, I almost forgot.  I also got red hair.  How exciting is that?

 

Into January

And so far, so.......samey.  Plus, I haven't made any of my usual lose weight/read more/Google less New Year's resolutions though I'm aiming to make a few changes in the year ahead.  

One thing I learned in the lead up to the festivities is that the housework doesn't do itself (nor does anyone else do it, nor can you continue to ignore it after a point) and leaving it all for one mahoosive clean-up (alongside all of the shopping and present wrapping and cooking and baking) is one sure way to give you back ache and put you off your Christmas dinner. 

So I'm trying to do a bit each day.  Thus far it's working (and I find I rather like admiring the results of the vacuuming and duster flicking) though I'm very aware we're only five days in and my enthusiasm does have a tendency to wane rather too quickly (as evidenced by the numerous reminders around the house of many an unfinished project). 

Another, slightly more challenging, change I want to make this year is letting go - of stuff (of which there is still far too much  here), of past decisions, actions and conversations I can do nothing about.  You have no idea how much I replay in my head (even from years and years ago), how much I analyse, how much I think I could have done or said differently.  Bonkers, I know.  And I'm not at all sure how I'm going to achieve this change.  One of my friends thinks I should try hypnosis ("look into my eyes, look into my eyes, the eyes, the eyes, not around the eyes, don't look around my eyes, look into my eyes, you're under").  I think not. 

We went for lunch at the art gallery in town today, only to find the cafe has changed ownership.  The new menu doesn't impress at all (today's special was corned beef pie) and the quality of what we ended up with (soup, lukewarm at that) was very poor.  We had to eat chocolate tree decorations (yes, really) once we were home to get rid of the after taste. 

At least the sun was shining on the drive there and I managed to get the first snap this year of my favourite local landmark.

 

Saturday

• A crisp and sunny start to the day here, so it seemd a good idea to tag along on Boo's morning walk in the local park.  Predictably, the good weather didn't last and we ended up getting rained on but I enjoyed the exercise and managed to avoid (at least for a little while) those bliddy practice guidance documents I rather stupidly agreed to write.

• My new apple green (ish) winter boots.  Hardly rock chick but they're very comfortable, look like they'll withstand a fall of snow (unlike last year's more fashionable pair) and I quite like them.

• Having read a couple of rave reviews, I ordered some boxes of gingerbread porridge but would have to say I'm a tad underwhelmed. The flavour's a bit too subtle for me.

• Window three on the Advent calendar opened.  Being very lazy, and very lacking in the crafting skills department, I bought this one from Amazon.  But I did tart it up with a bit of glitter here and there.

•   Getting ready for a little trip.  Without Boo (and, boy, is he in for a surprise).

Back soon.

 

Enjoying autumn

I was meant to be writing practice guidance.

The mister had planned to finish painting the garage doors.

But the sun was shining so we bunked off for the afternoon.

The weather was perfect for a walk along the beach.

Boo was delighted.

He likes nothing better than playing ball on the sand.

And chasing seagulls into the sea.

Portions of freshly cooked chips, liberally seasoned with salt and vinegar, certainly hit the spot.

Shame we forgot to pack a towel.

Boo is still drying out.

 

 

This, that and the other

On the way home after a meeting at the seaside the other day (and I really do question my decision to take on a couple of big pieces of consultancy work which are proving to be very restricting), I spotted these chaps (what is it about donkeys that always makes me want to cry?) relaxing after their summer of giving children rides along the beach.

Seeing them reminded me of my early days as a trainee social worker when the then purveyor of the donkey rides used to farm his donkeys out during the winter months to anyone who would have them.  Visiting a family in a part of town with now long gone streets of two up two down terraced houses,  I was greeted at the door by one of the children with "Come and see what we've got".  They'd taken one of them in.  Literally.  The donkey was living inside the house with them all.

Close to home, I stopped again (brazenly ignoring the "Private track.  Keep out." sign) to snap this view of my favourite local landmark looking hazy in this most unseasonal weather.

Whilst I was out doing my consultancy thing, the mister had been busy adding glass panels to a little garden project.  Remember this "before" picture of the bottom of the garden, when the old fencing was being taken down?

Here's what that corner looks like now.

The grassed area has been re-turfed, the wee summerhouse is in place and just needs some final tweaking (and a table and chairs for inside), and the shrubs and trees are recovering from some, it has to be said, brutal hacking.  Oh yes, and the adirondack chair has finally been painted and given its first airing.  After languishing in the garage for three years.

Progress, methinks.

At long last.

Suffolk, September

It started with a dog welcoming cottage, perfectly situated on the edge of the estate of a long lost country house, with farmland and forest all around, onion scented breezes and a view of a distant castle.   Shingle beaches, so different from those at home, were a short drive away and made for satisfyingly crunchy walks with the Boo.  Chocolate box pretty pink thatched cottages lined the narrow lanes we explored.  Hedgerows provided the richest of pickings and my first (yes, really) encounter with sloes.  Grapes were admired, wines were tasted and our stocks replenished during a vineyard visit.   A nearby farm provided honey and jam and the best apple juice ever tasted.  Most days included a walk to the village to buy fresh baked seeded bread, Suffolk Gold cheese and crisp locally grown apples.  Daily treats of giant cappuccinos, sitting in the sun at the outdoor tables of the little cafe, served with generous slices of Victoria sandwich and battenburg, and an eagerly welcomed handful of dog biscuits.  Relishing the food, wine and live music at a vegetarian eatery.  A final evening walk, through row upon row of sunflowers just about ripe for harvesting. A blissful week. Well, apart from the afternoon Boo decided to chase an in flight gamebird.  Barking at full volume.  Running at full pelt.  Until he was a rust coloured blob in the distance. (He did come back.  Eventually).