love those cupcakes

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 special day

We don't do any of that Valentine's stuff here.

 

But we do celebrate Cake Tuesday.

 

Marmalade hiccups

Armed with a shiny new maslin pan, I spent the best part of today making my first ever batch of marmalade.  It could well be my last.

The first hiccup was not having any muslin for the pips so I just threw them in the pan of water and boiled them for about 10 minutes or so.  Unfortunately it wasn't so easy to remove them but I did, with the help of a sieve and a variety of spoons. 

A bigger hiccup was the discovery that, after adding the chopped peel and juice, the mixture was sticking to the pan despite lots of stirring.  Then, once the sugar had been added and I achieved what I assumed was a rolling boil, the mixture at the bottom actually burned (and the new pan is now less shiny, more black).                                                                                 

I managed to salvage most of it as it didn't taste burnt (the black stuff stayed stuck to the bottom of the pan) and it looks like marmalade but I won't be in a hurry to have another go. 

Not least because, after I'd unpacked the pan, the Boy was heard to mutter "It looks like a cauldron".

 

Edited to add 12th February:  We had some of the marmalade on toast this morning and it tastes just like marmalade!  As for the pan, a good soaking in detergent and a gentle scrub has removed the black stuff and restored the shine.  Result.

 

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?

 

Recovering

Thanks so much for your well wishes.   Still not firing on all cylinders (that was some bug the Boy brought home), I've continued to be housebound apart from a (makeup free because of the eye infection, quelle horreur) dash to the shop followed by a quick visit to check on Aunty M. at the weekend  

Of course, this means I've had no excuses for putting off the consultancy work I committed myself to and I think it's fair to say some progress has been made.   The laptop breaking down the other day and being carted off to laptop hospital might have been reason enough for doing nothing but, no,  I have a back-up machine so have been able to plod valiantly on. 

At other times I've been watching this, admiring the flowers on the only bulb I planted last year

 

and enjoying my first (free) snack box from here.

Can it get any more exciting?

Below par

For the last seven days I've been laid up with the worst cold/flu/bug I can remember having.  The Boy brought it home, the mister was next to succumb and then it was my turn.  

It started with a pounding head (which has continued every day since and which the Nurofen has consistently failed to reach), a load of iron bars stuck in my throat (or so it felt) and the sound of the sea constantly in my shell-like. 

The iron bars have since departed (more or less), leaving me with a late night/early morning cough.  Then yesterday I woke up with one eye swollen and stuck fast and the bloodshot other hinting that it might follow.  (It did.  This morning.)

I've wallowed in hot, deep baths for hours on end, because that's the only place I feel comfortable and who knows, I might actually manage to sweat the bugger out.  I've rested (in truth, hardly moved from the horizontal), self medicated and tried to keep taking in fluids (which isn't easy when your throat is full of iron bars but I must have taken in more than enough as evidenced by the overflow from my eyes and nose). 

I did venture out on Saturday to celebrate the Girlie's birthday with dinner here (of course I couldn't taste a thing and felt full pretty quickly) and threw some cakes together for her to take back to Manchester on Sunday. (Maybe I should have worn gloves and a mask during the making of them.)

 

Unbeknown to everyone, the Boy quietly cracked on with making some Jammy Dodgers, just in case I wasn't up to baking.

I think he did a pretty good job and the Girlie got an extra present.

 

What's for dinner?

I'm in the process of changing (ordered but not yet delivered) our everyday plates and dishes.  The mister here wonders if other people do this as frequently as we seem to do. 

For daily useage I don't choose anything expensive so that they can be replaced when the inevitable chips appear or changed quite easily when I get sick of the sight of them.  This time round I've gone for this design. (The smaller plates and bowls have an all-over pattern.)

We have other sets (sadly nothing in the way of family heirlooms) which have changed over the years, just not so frequently, and which come out for different occasions along with mix and match serving bowls and dishes. 

One I'll keep forever is the first one we ever used, the one my late brother bought us as a wedding present and which always comes out at Christmas as it doesn't matter what the table colour scheme is.  I've had to replace a few items which have been broken over the years but the range has been discontinued so I suspect that's not going to be quite so straightforward for any future breakages.

Then we have one from this range which is used for New Year and when we have people round for dinner.  (This replaced a rather brown Denby service.)

For summer dining there's one like this

 

or some plates in this pattern which I bought last year for those rare occasions we have dinner in the garden.

Then there's the collection of tea cups, saucers and plates which deserves a post of it's own. 

So, tell me, do you have different dinnerware for different occasions?  And do you like to spring clean your place settings and make changes? 

 

Lately I've been......

.....enjoying the last of the granola I made (adapted from this recipe) between Christmas and New Year.

.....trying to motivate myself to crack on with the consultancy work I've taken on so that I can get paid.  But there are so many distractions.......

.....catching up on series 2 of this.  Having learned that a third series is being filmed, I've just one thing to say to the producers.  Tak.

.....baking Roman style ("crusty, crumpety") spelt bread, using the very straightforward recipe on the back of the flour bag.

.....watching this, one of my Christmas presents.  Very different from the usual "wagons, roll!" Western, and with minimal dialogue, this film is about the struggle of three families travelling the Oregon trail in 1845.  It's bleak, it's grim, it's powerful.  It's going to leave you feeling very thirsty (and possibly wishing for a different ending) if you watch it.

.....marvelling at someone's efforts to get at the catnip.  Just look at that tongue!

.....listening to this, another Christmas present.  I love it.  You can get a taste here.

.....booking a (planes, boat, train) holiday.  More on that later.

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.