love those cupcakes

That was the weekend that was

It was a good one.  The Girlie and Boy were home for a couple of days.  Food featured a lot (buttery croissants and cherry jam, homemade pizzas, blueberry pancakes and maple syrup, peanut butter cookies, Krispy Kreme doughnuts, a vegetarian blowout at a favourite restaurant).  There was a trip into town to buy perfume and a book (shoes, too, but my size was sold out) and to browse sofas and chairs (a living room makeover is on the cards here).  We discovered a new farmers (used as an adjective so no apostrophe, right?) market at our local park where there were just a few stalls but hey, it's early days, definitely a step in the right direction and we did manage to buy chocolate (70% with caramelised marmalade for me and eaten far too quickly), duck eggs, cheese and an aquilegia plant.  The park itself (which I posted about here) was busy but there was plenty of open space. Boo, who tagged along, disgraced himself with an episode of exceptionally loud barking (seems he was objecting to having to wear his lead) and splodging (local word meaning splashing or wading, often wearing wellies) through a large and very muddy puddle.  (For more of our Smoggie dialect see here).

 

 

I love family weekends, me.

 

Savouring lately

My word of the year is 'savour'.  And this weekend has been about being determined to really enjoy what's on our doorstep.   I find it all too easy to dwell on, to bleat about, what's lacking (a decent bakery, a theatre, shops which sell items costing more than a pound, good restaurants, a mainline station, an airport that actually has flights, jobs) where we live.  So I parked Moaning Minnie and set out with a smile on my face and a knapsack on my back (well, not really but you get the gist) to take the time to  appreciate:

* The last of the tulips at the back of the house, the first poppy in the front garden and a basking Buddha

* The evening walk around the neighbourhood with the always enthusiastic Boo and the unmistakeable iridescence of fluttering fairy wings (you know I'm right) in the woodland

* Fruity tea, coffee cake and frangipane tart down the road at Ormesby Hall (more about our visit here to follow)

* The fragrance of spring blossom and wild garlic

* Time spent with the friendliest of stables' cats who was minus a tail

*  *  *

Him:  Why are you taking photographs of those?  They're dandelions!                    

Her:  Sighs deeply, raises eyes heavenward and exits stage left.

Bilingual

I'm now fluent in Spanielese.

Translation:

Get off your backside and take me for a walk.  Pretty please?

 

Odd-jobbing outdoors

The past week has mostly been about tackling the long list of garden jobs.  Not everything has been ticked off but borders have been cleared of weeds, shrubs have been brought under control, grass has been cut, garden furniture has been power washed and oiled, green recycling bags have been filled.  

One particular eyesore requiring attention was a little sloping border at the front of the house, adjacent to the drive.  Originally planted with a conifer and shrubs when we moved here 20 or so years ago,  it was all looking horribly overgrown so the mister was in charge of cutting the conifer back and digging out all of the existing plants before replanting with alpines (we need to buy more) interspersed with slabs of slate (we need to buy more of these, too).   

I was in charge of the sweeping brush, snacks (recipe for chocolate digestives from here)

and the camera, noting that the anemones have finally flowered

and the tulips, especially these orange ones, are continuing to provide some welcome colour at the back of the house.

Boo was in charge of gathering up the empty plant pots.

Well, why have a dog and bark yourself?

 

A breath of fresh air

 

There was more than a hint of sun at the beach yesterday afternoon. 

It was low tide and Boo was in his element, socialising, chasing seagulls, playing with his new favourite tennis ball (he emerged from a shrubbery with it in his mouth on one of our evening walks last week), jumping the waves.  

These sea coalers were also in their element.

As they say round these parts, I love living near the coast me.

 

So far this week, in bullets

• Visited the cinema to see Flight.  Denzel is a favourite.  This film most definitely isn't.  Yes, the crash sequence at the beginning is riveting but what follows leaves too many questions unanswered, too many characters and relationships unexplored, too many blind alleys to be taken down.  The film conveys some very confused messages about substance misuse and addiction and it's just too long.

• Transported two unwilling cats and one terrified Boo to the vets for their annual check-ups.  All pronounced fit and healthy. Boosters were administered to the accompaniment of some wimpering.  Bank account was depleted accordingly.  Cue more wimpering.
  

• Joined a new(ish) WI group.  The theme was Health and Wellbeing with presentations about the sexual exploitation of young people in the town and  pharmacy services at Boots.  Next month:  making chickens from Cadbury's creme eggs.

• Baked a malt loaf using a Mary Berry recipe (I halved the quantities to make one 1lb loaf).  Wonderfully sticky and aromatic after being wrapped and stored for just a day.  Cuts more easily than Soreen and tastes, well, just like Soreen, or, dare I say it, even better. 

Mary Berry's Malt Loaf (very slightly amended)

Makes 2x1lb loaves

8ozs plain flour

Half level tsp bicarbonate of soda

1 level tsp baking powder

8ozs sultanas

2ozs demerara sugar

6ozs malt extract*

1 tbsp black treacle

2 large eggs, beaten

5 fl ozs black tea, cooled

 

Preheat oven to 150C/fan 130C/gas 2.

Grease 2 x 1 lb loaf tins and line base and short sides (with some overhang for ease of removing) with greaseproof paper or baking parchment.

Mix together the flour, bicarb and baking powder in a bowl and stir in the sultanas.

Gently heat together the sugar, malt extract and treacle and pour onto the flour mix.

Add the eggs and tea to the mixture and beat well until smooth.

Pour into the prepared tins and bake for about an hour or until the loaves are well risen and firm to the touch.

Leave to cool in the tins for 10 mins then turn out carefully, peel away the paper and leave to finish cooling on a wire rack.

Best kept for 2 days (1 day was long enough for me) wrapped in clingfilm or foil before slicing, buttering and enjoying.  Can also be frozen.

 

*I bought mine from Holland and Barrett.  I now need to find a way of getting it from the jar to the scales to a pan without clarting the entire kitchen.

 

Still savouring

A batch of perfectly crunchy, oaty, peanut buttery, chocolatey biscuits using a new recipe book * Waiting for the mister in an almost empty coffee shop and finishing a terrific read * Our vegetarian take on a Burns Night supper with Quality Street afters * Unexpected snowfall overnight and bright skies this morning * Twenty nine years of being a mum *

 

Don't speak too soon

Seems I was a bit previous in the last post.

Those new wellies are going to be worn out at this rate.

 

Fortunately the snow plough had been busy in the lane near home.

 

 

I've cancelled a dinner date with a friend and plan to spend some time with this (and two 'driving me bonkers because they refuse to go out in the snow and are full of energy' cats) instead.

 

 

I love polo necks, me.

 

A whodunnit

The crime scene

Our living room.  Contains the usual stuff, nothing flash but comfortable.

 

The crime

Criminal damage.

 

The victim

Our cost us quite a bit when we bought it armchair.  Lives in a corner of the room looking out into the garden, tucked behind one of the sofas. About 13 years old.  In generally good nick.  Until now.

 

The evidence

 

The witnesses

"I swear it wasn't me".

 

"Nope, didn't see a thing".

 

The accused

Goes by the name of Bea. Three year old tabby.  Looks like butter wouldn't melt.  Has extremely sharp claws but categorically refuses to use a scratching post.  Also has form:  criminal damage to a stair carpet and wanton carving of numerous spindles on the staircase, both of which have only just been replaced (the carpet) and repaired (the spindles).  And she ripped a shirt.  Whilst I was wearing it.  Oh yes, and she's been found guilty of GBH to quite a few butterflies.  Has exercised the right to remain silent throughout the investigation, apart from mewling when she wants feeding/letting out/letting in, but this incident has all the hallmarks of her MO. 

 

 The verdict

Unanimous.  Guilty. 

 

The sentence

For her:  non custodial with a requirement to undertake some sort of aversion/diversion therapy.  Any suggestions?

For us:  spending our savings on new seating.  But only when the furniture scratching stops.

 ****

One of my Christmas presents was this very funny book.  Well, funny if you live with/understand/love cats.  This poem could have been composed by our resident delinquent :

 

SCRATCH

Scratch scratch scratch

Scratch scratch scratch

Scratch scratch

Scratch

 

There

It is done

Now gaze upon your sofa leg

And see an exact replica of Rodin's The Thinker

I mean, if you look at it at just the right angle

 

Anyway, onto my next masterpiece -

Turning your curtains into confetti

 

Really, I should have

my own gallery show

 

 

Lately

• A trip to the Sage, up the road in Gateshead, to see the excellent Civil Wars and the equally talented support band, the Lumineers.

• Trying out a new (to me) brownie recipe.  So very good.  Most of the brownies accompanied the Boy, who was home for the weekend, back to uni to share with his flatmates.  They were rapidly scoffed, apparently.  I think this recipe could be next and this book has already been added to my wishlist.

• Joining in an autumn blog swap and receiving a packed parcel of seasonal goodies (a perfect-for-hot-chocolate mug filled with teeny marshmallows, notebook, lip balm, soup mug complete with sachets of mushroom soup, deliciously spicy Lush bath bomb, handmade heart decoration, mittens) from my swap partner.

• Buying a new bed after Someone here thought it was a good idea to eat his.