love those cupcakes

Interruption

We're off on our travels again. 

To Canada and Alaska this time. 

With me hobbling my way round on my sprained ankle.

Boo knows something's afoot (see what I did there?).

He's going to stay with a pet carer in Darlington.

All back early June.

Filling in the gap

A three day drive through England, France and most of Spain wasn't top of my list of fun activities but with a couple of nights in pet friendly hotels and a comfortable seat  (admittedly less comfortable after 6 hours straight driving)  in the over filled car it wasn't so bad.  The Boo, I would have to say, behaved impeccably and proved himself the perfect uncomplaining travel companion. Having never been one for reading whilst travelling by road I wasn't anticipating digging into the stache of books I'd packed but once we hit the quieter (and straighter) motorways of France and Spain I just sat back (the mister did all the driving) and enjoyed a couple of novels which certainly helped pass the time.  

Our stay in Spain was puntuated by reading the remainder of the book pile plus a few extras (a couple of books deserve a post of their own), some gentle pottering (me) and odd jobbing around the house (him, though the services of Boris  had to be secured to tidy up our palm tree which is now taller than the house), a lot of eating (including the obligatory churros y chocolate and now I really do need to lose some weight), a little shopping (we came across a shop selling hand carved Pinochios of various sizes) and a fair bit of quaffing of the red stuff. 

Elaborate Semana Santa processions were in evidence over Easter, culminating locally in the Burial of the Sardine (yes, I did wonder if I'd heard that right) celebration with its strange mix of decorated floats each depicting the sardine and a Greek god, scantily clad Brazilian dance groups, Sardinero torch bearers in their tall, pointy hats and the throwing of thousands of toys to the crowds lining the streets before finally setting fire to the sardine. (No pictures, unfortunately.)

In his wisdom, the mister decided to drive home via a different route (up the left hand side of the map) with an overnight stay in Millau in the Mid Pyrenees, a town with an impressive viaduct and surrounded by the most stunning scenery. It was a pity we didn't have time to explore, especially the caves where the Roquefort is matured. Maybe next time.

En route to Calais the following day, the sat nav warned of stationary traffic ahead and advised a detour which we decided to take. Progress from then on was incredibly slow as we stopped/started through endless sets of traffic lights, hopeful of re-joining the motorway at some point. 

Him:  I wasn't expecting to be diverted through towns.

Me:   Which seem to be getting bigger and busier.

Him:  I have no idea where we are.

Me:   Well, this road's called Avenue Victor Hugo. 

Him:  There's the Arc de Triomphe.

So it was.

Dead ahead.

Ever tried driving around Paris on a busy, rainy afternoon?

Thought not.

 

Millionaire lifestyle

Not really. 

In fact, far from it.

Though we do have the shortbread (recipe from Mary Berry's Baking Bible).

With a triple chocolate topping.

And we also have staff to serve the pre dinner nibbles.

 

 

Miscellany

• New arrivals, spotted earlier today in a field close to home.

 

• Cheese and fruit scones, baked yesterday and tested whilst still warm.

• Camellia, planted in the garden late last year and covered in buds.

• New novel, purchased in a real book shop (Waterstones, the only one left in town).

• Boo, catching up on the latest news from Crufts.

 

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.  

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.

Cat in a hat

Someone here thinks he looks a right festive treat.   

Edited to add:  Don't be fooled by that hangdog (hangcat?) expression.  Buzz loves this hat (the elf one not so much).  It's having his picture taken that he objects to. Especially when he's having forty winks on the piano stool.

Someone else thinks that hat makes him look a right 'nana.

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.

 

A not very exciting weekend

• There was a bit of baking:

wholemeal bread and a second, smaller, Christmas cake. (To give away.  We're not that greedy.)

Most of my cake tins were my dad's.  I think this one was bought to make one of my birthday cakes, in the days when all celebration cakes were of the rich fruit with hard as rock Royal icing variety.

• There was a bit of Christmas magazine reading, in the hope of finding inspiration (I didn't) for presents. 
  

• There was a bit of trying on of new winter coats and Christmas outfits. 

Someone was more co-operative.....

.....than someone else,

 

 

who appears to have perfected the art of sulking.