Domesticali

Slow food

It's the change in pace that I appreciate so much during the holidays. When you have very little ones, holiday or no holiday, life continues apace. But now my boys are both of school age, they don't need to much persuading to throttle back and take things a little more sedately.

We have all the time in the world to put double cream in a jam jar and shake and shake (and shake) until the alchemy of butter making takes place.
And to eat the butter, with croissants and strawberry jam, as a very late breakfast, still loafing about in our pyjamas.

And then to notice that the strawberry jam is running out rather rapidly.  Plenty of time to put on waterproofs and squelch round the footpaths behind our house to pick teeny tiny cherry plums for the next batch of jam.

To decide that pizza for lunch sounds good. To slowly weigh and measure and mix and knead and let the dough rest. To see if there are a couple of ripe tomatoes outside the back door and to wash the basil really well to get rid of the greenfly.

I might have put the first of our courgettes on there too, but it really is still too tiny to harvest. Let it grow -  we're in no rush at all.

Lace

The ultimate mystery for me - lace knitting. I have tried before and failed - kidsilk haze, I curse your beguiling beauty and impossible levels of fuzzyness. You really put me off trying again. But I found a new yarn.

And it might have taken more than a few weeks and with a long hiatus while I waited for my mother-in-law to arrive and correct a mistake I had made. But it's done. My Juliet. I put a lifeline in every six rows of that lace - that's how nervous it made me. And I mumbled through many an evening on the sofa counting stitches. But oh how I love it.

So all the time invested reading about other people's versions and modifications on Ravelry really was worth it. And I am glad that I listened to Monica (for a change!) and knitted the bottom section in a size small, so it wasn't too flarey. The yarn is Rowan cocoon in Seascape and it is the most perfectly soft squooshy, fuzzy choice.

My favourite knitted item ever. Yes, for now, at least.

Dream guilt

Woke up this morning with a lingering sense of guilt. I'd had a half-remembered dream about unfulfilled obligations and the feeling was nagging at me. So today, I've resolved to tackle one or two loose ends that are dangling about.

The first involves picnics. And cake. This cake, to be specific - coconut and lime.

My new best friends at Abel and Cole wanted us to taste test some of their summer range. Can you imagine the excitement when I told the resident testers? Cake was top of their wish list and pronounced exceedingly good. It even managed to hold up well in spite of arriving in the middle of that very hot spell we had a while back.  In the spirit of thoroughness,  we did also try some savoury offerings, in the form of White Maize Tortilla Chips (crunch-a-licious and not too salty) and some rather grown up Chilli and Ginger Salsa which was a big hit with the more sophisticated tasters.

The idea of a summer range seems to me to be a thoroughly good one. Novelty is most under-rated - we all like something new for a change. Especially along picnic lines. Because I love picnics, but I miss the feeling of mystery you get when you aren't sure what's coming out of the hamper. This way, I can order a load of stuff in advance and then on my delivery day, pretend it's a surprise for me too!

The second loose end involves making some firm diary dates to spend time with friends we haven't seen in too long. Shockingly, what seemed to be an endless expanse of summer holiday is already becoming full in the diary, so it's time to get our priorities straight. Off to hit the phone... and perhaps plan a picnic or two.

Oh, Abel and Cole have given me 2 offers to pass on to you - one is a free copy of their rather fab recipe book ( as reviewed here by Ms Locket) when you order  a box and the other is a £50 rebate to spend on Abel and Cole if you order 4 consecutive weekly deliveries. If you'd like to take advantage of  either offer, let me know and I'll pass on the details.

A Day of Extreme Emotion

Tonight I feel wrung out. It was the boys' final day at their old School today. Usually the end of year is filled with celebration and plans for the summer and the taste of freedom in the air. But today was different. Mark sobbed (this is the child who seldom sheds a tear), their friends sobbed. Leaving is hard, even when you are excited about the possibilities that the future has in store.

And I feel such a wrench in my gut when I look at the now-redundant uniforms in the laundry basket. Have we done the right thing? Will they be as happy somewhere else? Will they make friends as precious as the ones they already have? I know, as a parent, you are constantly making decisions that affect your child. But usually they are the incremental type and the burden of responsibility doesn't weigh too heavily.

I'm sure the fact that they aren't at home, safe under my wing, makes me feel worse. Hubby has taken them to Wales. It seemed a good idea at the time - to take their minds off any residual upset. But we seem to have once again fallen victim to the curse of our family's camping trips. If you've been reading this blog for a while, you might recall the spring camping trip with the biggest snow dump of the year or the trip where torrential rain and flash floods closed the site. Well, it's raining again and he's just telephoned to tell me that he forgot the sleeping bags. But, and I quote, 'Don't worry, we're improvising'.

Please tell me it's not just us who make it up as we go along.

Sunshine beckoning scarf

The ability to influence the weather - I think I have it. I make a sunhat, it pours.  Buy a strappy top? Freezing. So in a fit of reverse psychology, I've knitted myself a winter scarf to go with my red coat (the one that Lucy made me buy). We're bound to be basking in glorious summer sunshine soon.

Details over at Ravelry.

Sponsored Nuts

A delivery arrived at my door yesterday, courtesy of Coffee Lady. A box from graze.

Have you heard of these people? They send you a sweet little box through the post, filled with fruit, nuts, seeds, dried fruit, even chocolate, tailored to your preferences. For you to nibble during the day. Mine had fresh cherries, brazils, pecans, almonds and dried cranberries in it. And the cranberries were the yummiest I've ever had.

I shared with the boys (because I am big hearted) and I'd like to share with you too (and not only because it earns me money off my next box). Basically, if you head over to www.graze.com and enter the code R6BT1DLE you can have a box for free to try, sent to any address in the UK.

I wonder if you're out there, on the other side of my computer screen, hating this product-y post. I  have mixed feelings about companies infiltrating our happy little blogland, hijacking our posts for commercial purposes. But hey, they are giving us free fruit and nuts. And I promise never to sell my blogging soul for commercial gain. Scouts honour.

And if I come up with a crafty re-use for the little box, then it's totally legitimate, right?

A little completed knitting project - little, being the operative word. A Pebble vest (pattern from The Thrifty Knitter) for a soon to be newborn. I'm sure my boys were never this tiny.  It took only a single ball of yarn.

And even for me, the slowest knitter in the universe, it was a quick job. In fact, the biggest headache came in finding a model to photograph it on. The bear feels this is not a flattering look for his puku. But he's the best we had.

I am hoping the uber-stylish mother of the intended recipient, will find the vest chic and understated, in a retro, wholesome, White Company sort of way. The wool is a cashmere, merino and silk blend, so at least I know it feels sublime. It's the first time I have ever made a knitted item as a gift for someone outside my immediate family and I am feeling a little nervous and self-conscious about handing it over.

Perhaps I should have waited and just baked something instead. The biscotti, from Dragonfly's recipe would have been guaranteed to hit the spot.  But, on the other hand, it might be best to eat them all myself. Even if my puku is starting to resemble the bear's.

Splish splash

The time has come for a larger paddling pool.

Because the boys aren't going to be getting any smaller.