Domesticali

Books of 2011 and reading resolutions

The slow days between Christmas and New Year are perfect for holing up and sticking one's head firmly in a book. Which is where mine has been for the last couple of days. Reading during daylight hours is a pleasure I usually deny myself, knowing that if I started, whole weeks would pass with nothing concrete to show for them. Consequently, my reading has to be slotted into the evenings and therefore tends to proceed at a much slower rate.

But in spite of this, the year has not been a bad one, volume wise. My Goodreads list records some 39 books (I tend not to count recipe, craft, reference books or re-reads) and my ratings say they were more good than bad. 

When I glance through the list though, I am struck by how many books I read for reasons other than me choosing them. A couple, I was checking out in order to wean Mark off his self imposed diet of non-fiction (The Chronicles of Ancient Darkness series has been a big hit in that respect). A couple I read with Johnny, some were book group books, or related to authors or genres we were covering and others were review copies, or lent to me by friends so I felt obliged to read them in order to be able to talk about them.

Unsurprisingly, the ones I loved the best, were the ones I chose just because they appealed to me at the moment I needed something new to read.

Which probably tells me something about what my reading resolution for 2012 ought to be. Read what you want - not what you feel you ought to. I might even be bold enough to allow myself to do it during the daytime.

 

The 641 series

Do you ever hear about those people for whom receiving something of a household persuasion under the Christmas Tree would be grounds for divorce? I'm not one of them. Kitchen gadgetry? Bring it on. A new recipe book? Itching to test it out.

In fact, I derive as much pleasure outside of the kitchen from my cookbook collection (in all its colour coded glory). I have a special bookcase devoted to my recipe books. Some are old workhorses - an original Delia Smith's Cookery Course in three volumes - still my go to choice for the measurements for yorkshire puddings or custard. I own multiple titles from my favourite cookery writers - Nigel and Nigella - national treasures both, for their ways with the words they write as much as for the recipes they suggest.

There's not physical space for too many more. But I cannot help acquiring them. So it should be no surprise at all that when the nice folk at WHSmith asoked if they could send over a book for me to take a look at, that I found myself happy to oblige. And they chose for me a great volume - River Cottage everyday.

I'm showing you the back cover, not as much for the beetroot salad, as much as for those little line drawings added onto the plate. The whole book is full of them - like doodles in the margin. Which appeals to me hugely, as I am always scribbling in my cookbooks. Jotting down tweaks to a recipe, or the date I first tried it, or who I've fed it to if it is more of a special occasion dish. Making suggestions to myself for a good accompaniment the next time I cook it.

This, for me, is why an internet search for a recipe will never completely replace owning a volume and why my bookshelves will continue to groan under the weight of yet another book full of things which have been sampled, or ones I long to try. Which in the case of River Cottage everyday includes Tupperware Mexican chorizo, Honey Wholemeal cake and Egg tartare. Not all at the same sitting, I hasten to add.

Parcels shaped like books are always a welcome addition under the tree. Luckily for me, hubby views them as the gift which gives twice - the pleasure of reading for me and the obvious benefits to them as resident taste testers. But Santa, a bookshelf extension wouldn't go amiss either.

What is your cookbook crush of the moment? Just in case the big red guy needs a little steer.

Transworld Reading Challenge

There's a built in alarm system for when my blog has been a little too quiet. My mother phones me up and tells me she is bored, and please would I post something. Because then she stops by and clicks on lots of comments and goes and reads your blogs and has a thorougly nice time, thank you very much.

And she's right - so I'm dragging my head out of the bookshelf and coming to say hello. This summer (well, this year really) has been a good one for reading. Somehow, when I worked at the bookshop, I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of them. Paralysed with indecision. Too busy scanning blurbs and trying to remember relevant new stock so I could answer questions from customers. Assaulted by other peoples opinions - reps, customers, reviews.

This year, I have come to rediscover the pleasure of thinking something sounded interesting, picking up a copy and losing myself in it. Not because I felt I should read it, but because I wanted to. But sometimes it's good to be taken out of your reading comfort zone, so when Annabel mentioned it, I decided to take up the Transworld Book Group Reading Challenge.

The first one across my threshold was The Colour of Death, by Michael Cordy.

Here's what the blurb says:
In a quiet, residential neighbourhood of Portland, Oregon, an unknown young woman uncovers a shocking crime scene by inexplicably sensing the evil within its walls.To the police, she herself is a mystery.She appears on no government records, has no past and can’t even tell the police her own name.Christened Jane Doe and suffering terrifying hallucinations, she is assigned to Nathan Fox, a forensic psychiatrist struggling with his own demons after witnessing his parents’ murder as a child.Together they must piece together the jigsaw that is Jane’s identity.Then a sequence of brutal killings terrorise the city and Fox learns Jane is the only cryptic link between the unrelated victims.To solve the murders, discover who she is and diagnose her condition, Fox must discard his black and white preconceptions, look beyond the spectrum of normal human experience and confront the dark truth of her past&and his own.

I say, if you're partial to the odd Dan Brown-esque thriller, you'll probably derive much guilty pleasure from this. It's not lit-er-a-ture, but was compelling enough that I was forced to read it in a day!

Much of the plot hangs on Jane Doe's synesthesia (something that has always fascinated me). And now I've found a site that can answer all my synsthesia type ponderings - the color of. You enter a word, and it generates a colour, based on Flickr photos. I'm a little bit addicted.

Wisley? Well, that's where I'm headed tomorrow. Summer field trip. While I wait for the next book to arrive.

Kids Crafternoon: Papercraft

Sometimes things don't seem real until you can see them. But seeing this cover has made me all excited all over again.

Kids Crafternoon: Papercraft is coming out at the beginning of July and I have a couple of projects in it. 

And it is just KILLING me not to have seen the book in the flesh as yet. Patience has never been my strongest point - perhaps that's why I like making things with paper. Speedy results.

Pitching ideas for the projects in the book was one of the most fun things I've done in ages. I came up with a big long list of possibilities - some of which didn't make the editorial cut. So I'm going to share a couple of those with you as tutorials instead - just in time to keep the kids busy over the Easter holidays. 

 

Mud Pies and other Recipes

A couple of years ago, a small friend came to our house to play, bringing with her the most enchanting recipe book for dolls by Marjorie Winslow. I fell head over heels in love with it and managed, with some difficulty, to track a copy down (it was out of print).

Imagine my delight yesterday, when I went into a bookshop and saw on the table, a newly published re-print.

I cannot tell you what an excited squeak I let out - if you have smallish people at home (up to around 10 I'd guess) you simply must find a copy to look at.  And I'd bet a portion of fried water, you'll find a way to squeeze a copy into somebody's Christmas stocking. 

And, though I'm sure it is poor etiquette to re-publish one's old blog material, here's my post about the book from a couple of years back.

--------------------------------------------

Is it shameful to be constantly tapping my children for blog fodder? Thankfully, someone in the household still has time to be creative. It isn't me, that's for sure. But I would miss the act of blogging sorely, so you'll have to indulge me. And today, it is worth it. Because there was something very special happening in the garden.

Mark's friend Chloe came to play after school, bringing with her this gem of a book. And what marvels it contains. 

No supermarket is as well-stocked as a forest, a sand dune, or your own backyard, and everyone knows that dolls dote on mud, when properly prepared. Invite everyone, for Pencil Sharpener Pudding, Dandelion Souffle, Wood Chip Dip, and, of course, Mud Pies.

I knew as soon as I saw it, that we needed a copy. It is utterly charming and funny for the way in which all the recipes are presented so seriously.

FRIED WATER
Melt one ice cube in a skillet by placing it in the sun. When melted, add 1 cup water and sauté slowly until water is transparent. Serve small portions, because this dish is rich as well as mouth-watering.

Unfortunately, it is out of print and has proved a bit tricky to track down. But  for something so enchanting, it was worth the effort.
 
Hors d'oeuvre anyone?

-----------------------------

See what I mean? You've got to know someone who needs a copy.

Clearly you can take a bookseller out of the bookshop but the impulse to share wonderful books remains. And in a very spooky throwback, though I was in an independent bookshop far from home, the delivery guy, Andy, was the same one who used to deliver stock to my former bookshop - how very spooky is that? Just like old times.

Magazines

Sunday afternoon in a boarding school is a miserable time for a child, and in recognition of this, it was the time when weekly magazines were doled out. Every child could choose their own subscription,  and there was much collusion to ensure each dorm had as broad a range of reading material as possible - The Beano, Bunty, Twinkle, Jackie, Whizzer and Chips - we devoured them in the hour-long silent Sunday afternoon 'rest'.

Magazines were almost a currency and were carefully collected in each wooden bedside locker and re-read until the pages fell apart. And I am sure that my own hoarding habits stem from this. Somehow, reading a magazine once and then letting it go seems beyond me, until my side of the bed is a teetering mountain of paper-based ode to my latest interest.

See what I mean? Blueprint has been out of circulation since early 2008, and still, I cannot part with my copies. And am I brave enough to show you a small portion of the 'toss' pile?

The recycling guys are going to be getting a serious workout this week.

When I began blogging, I tried to cut down. Surely, the content I was getting from the web would be enough. For a while, I had no subscriptions and just indulged myself with the occasional single issue of something that caught my eye. But then the evil lure of the Tesco clubcard voucher offers got me subscribing again and now things are as bad as ever.

And destined to get worse. There are two new magazine launches planned for September - Making and a UK version of Martha Stewart Living (which will save me a trip into the city to pick up a US version). Sight unseen, I have already given in to the temptation of one subscription, and no doubt, the other will lure me in too. Unless the content proves to be as shoddy as another recent magazine who shall remain nameless turned out to be - a pox on that pre-release subscription decision - it wasn't renewed.

What do you buy? And how on earth do you go about not accumulating towering piles of back-copies? Clearly, I am in need of some advice.

 

An interruption to our schedule

Lying in bed. Well, on top of partially re-made bed. Minus cover-less duvet. Taking it easy.  Me and the cat, both.

See, I was having a lovely day at home and doing a spot of spring cleaning. But I had to pause for an appointment to donate blood. Off I went and was thoroughly enjoying myself. Enjoying? Oh yes, because fate smiled on me and gave me a venue of the very posh boys' school nearby, where I had the pleasure of secretly watching the sixth formers and reminiscing about youth.  I'm sure boys didn't look that good when I was 17.

Plus you get to lie down and read your book uninterrupted AND drink tea and eat biscuits. What's not to like? Nothing, until I'd finished up and was enjoying my custard creams when one of the nurses looked down and asked 'Is that pen on your jeans?' and when I looked, the alleged pen was suspiciously red and blood was dripping out of my arm and all over my shirt, the chair and the floor. Clearly I was having a more generous blood donation day than I had planned.

It wasn't serious - just dramatic, but I've abandoned the spring cleaning (I'm citing on medical advice - any excuse).  And delegated dinner-preparation. Score one for me! But my gleefulness about having to put down my metaphorical rubber gloves is symptomatic of an on-going ailment. See, I really really don't like housework.

Living in a clean house, I like. The tedium of the ongoing drudgery required to keep it that way, well count me out.

I have a friend, L, who lives in an immaculate house. She is a natural born cleaner - and for her, it's effortless. When she fills her kettle, she wipes the drip off the lip of the water filter. I always used to think this was the height of neurotic cleanliness. Until I spent time this morning, chiseling the limescale off the spout of my own filter jug. Now whose way seems better?

I've been thinking a lot about these things, since I came across Housework Blues - a survival guide. It's a fascinating read - and one that has had me nodding my head in agreement more times than I can count.

It's not a book which tells you how to polish silver or remove stains (though today, that knowledge might have helped my poor shirt). What it does, seems to me to be much more valuable. Very calmly, Danielle Raine presents housework as inevitable. What she does is tackle our attitudes towards it (and our excuses for not doing it). Do any of these ring a bell?

* Overwhelmed (there's too much to do)
* Injustice (why should I do it all?)
* Futility (it'll only get dirty again)
* No energy (I can't be bothered)
* Boredom (it's so monotonous)
* Inferiority (I'm no good at this)
* Superiority (it's a waste of my brain and talents)
* No motivation (I'd rather do something else)

And slowly slowly, I think perhaps I may be moving towards embracing it. Because there are chores which I do regard as a pleasure (hanging the washing on the line springs to mind). And it's a pity to waste so much energy being cranky about the jobs I love less.

Make peace with housework - sounds good, doesn't it? Are you at peace with yours?

Homemade at mostly books

Usually, my world of work at my world at home co-exist nestled in their own snug  side by side compartments. But once in a while, they come together. Like last Tuesday, when we lured Ros Badger to come along  and talk to a shopful of crafters about Homemade.

I know lots of you have this book already and enjoy it for the same reason I do - the simple message that homemade is special. So it was fitting that we should have a very special evening, with Ros (who is utterly charming) bringing along many of the items that feature in the lovely photographs of the book. And having the time to chat to everyone, swap making stories and help us do a couple of projects from the book (that's my button heart).

For me, it was also a chance to realize that there are so many creative people, and even fellow craft bloggers right under my nose. And it's doubly handy when they do a write up of the event, because there has been a little missing camera cable problem at the shop, and hence, no write up on the shop blog!

And I am so so so sorry that I didn't tell you about it here beforehand and let those of you within reach of Oxfordshire have the chance to come along. But the event sold out so fast, there was no time. I promise to do better next time.

So, the spirit of all things homemade seems to have seeped out of my home life compartment and pervaded the bookshop. First, our trophy for our mostly bookbrains literary quiz next month. It had to be an altered book really, didn't it?

I knew all that catalogue folding practice last year would lead to me making something eventually. Though I am rather nervous about taking it in to the shop, as in our publicity materials it has been billed as 'a magnificent trophy' and I'm not sure the Trade Descriptions Act would agree.  Homemade charm and magnificence are not quite the same thing.

And then, I get to run my own event for the bookshop - a pre-Christmas evening of craft, where hopefully we capture the same spirit of camaraderie as Ros' event managed to. And make a whole stack of recycled and upcycled decorations for the  Christmas window.

I imagine there will be some of this

and a blizzard of paper snowflakes. And any other wonderful ideas I can dream up between now and then.

But before I get round to planning that event, I need to make sure everyone at work  is a dab hand at making these:

because we have a little craft activity planned for the children who stop by for books at Hallowe'en.

That's an awful lot of shop stuff, no wonder there is no time left for my own making just now. Sigh.

On the bench

Another load of washing needed to go on the line, so I headed into the garden. And that's when it happened. The bench, it called my name. And in a sweet siren song it summoned me "Come, sit a while, it's been too long". And it had, so I sat and then I lay down and then I brought my new book to look at.

Yes, you can now get it in the UK. And you really should. It's worth it for the photo styling alone, let alone the full sized pattern pieces and instructions for 26 projects.

And half an hour on the bench passed, and then a little more. But it was time very well spent. Pip says in her introduction 'Making is one of life's great joys' and I couldn't agree more, but some days just sitting is good enough.

Key

Life has  a habit of getting busy sometimes. To the point of overwhelming. Tonight there were many ways I could productively used my time - stuff needed doing. But there's a film I'd been dying to see ever since I heard it was being made. You know what it is too don't you?

Tonight, in spite of the hundred and one little things which need my attention, I snuck away from the house and saw Juile and Julia. Many reviews I have read have painted it as a portrait of Julia Child by Meryl Streep, but it was the Julie Powell angle which really drew me in to the story.

Because, as I suspected, the film captured the same essence that I found when I first read Julie Powell's book a few years ago. That sometimes a blog can begin when we are need of something and the simple routine of commiting to pressing the publish button on a regular basis can lead us to discover things.

I went to see the movie by myself - not because I couldn't have seen it with a friend, but because I didn't think I could bear to see it with a non-blogger. The thrill when Julie gets her first comment (followed by the swift come-down when she realizes it is from her mother), only a blogger could get it.

Driving back from the film, I was thoughtful - the portrayal of bloggers as narcissistic and willing to sacrifice their real life relationships to the cause of their blogs was not a comfortable thing to watch. I am under no illusion that my musings here will be leading to book deals, which seemed to be the rationale behind justifying the tantrums thrown by Julie Powell in the course of her project. Is blogging without objectives just a totally self-indulgent waste of time?

But then my thoughts returned to Julia Child, who didn't set out to be the phemomenon she became. She was searching for something to occupy her. She was just doing something she enjoyed. And that seems to me to be key.

Catherine Rayner

My personal favourite children's book of the moment  is Augustus and his Smile. Even if it does give me a huge lump in my throat every single time I read it out loud.

Augustus the tiger was sad. He had lost his smile. So he did a huge tigery stretch and set off to find it.

The tale of a tiger, who looses his smile and then finds it again. I love it for it's message of finding happiness in the everyday. I can't think of a lesson I would rather my boys learned. And when they can do so, with lyrical language that is a joy to read out loud and wonderfully nuanced illustrations, it's even better. 

Catherine Rayner, the author and illustrator came to give a talk at the bookshop last night. She brought her sketchbooks - I could happily have spent days looking through them and listening to her speak about the process of bringing an illustrated book into the world. There is a great interview with her here,  along similar lines.

Joy is a very precious commodity, and there is nothing better than to come across somebody whose work simply oozes with it.

Eating dangerously

Reading blogs sometimes encourages risk-taking behaviour. See, Diana is a bit of a forager, and so when I saw her post about nettle soup, I wasn't surprised. Unlike the boys, who were downright horrified when I announced were going to eat the products of our after school weeding session.

Nettles? Noooo way!

But when they tasted it, they loved it. So much so that there was a quick chorus of "Nettle Soup, the best you ever tasted. None of this soup is going to be wasted." Which will only make sense to you if this book is part of your library.
 
If you've got fussy eaters, I highly recommend it (and the others in the trilogy A Pipkin of Salt and Pumpkin Soup). You can read some excerpts on Helen Cooper's website.

I wrote ‘Delicious’ to enchant the palate of unadventurous eaters with succulent words and aromatic pictures. May the scrumptious colours of vegetables, the riotous food gathering, and the rituals of culinary preparation in the old white cabin, encourage an appetite for exploring new foods, and even in cooking them. I also hope the story will be a comfort to faddy eaters like the Duck, while giving them just a little insight into how it feels if – like the Cat and the Squirrel- you are cooking for someone who is a little bit fussy.

Fairly early on in the process of feeding my offspring, I discovered that the perfect response to the whiny 'ewww, what's that?' suppertime refrain, was to come up with the most unlikely, disgusting names for food. A swift reply of 'boiled bats brains' - a delicacy, don't you know' usually produced enough giggling to get the first forkful of mashed potato past their lips. So perhaps they thought I was kidding when I said nettle soup. But it truly was delicious.

Read it swap it

There's a phenomenon sweeping my bookshelves. It involves things I have bought, read, in the most part enjoyed, but don't feel the need to keep forever.

One of the customers in the bookshop, Annabel, told me about read it swap it.  For the cost of postage, you can swap books you have finished with and read new ones.

You list some books, someone wants one, so you look at their list and if there is something you fancy reading, you swap and send each other the books. There's a ratings system similar to ebay to keep track of swapper reliability.

It's cheap, it's green and in my experience the site is well run and the whole experience, pleasant. It is, though, only available to folks in the UK (I assume to keep postage costs low). As far as I can see, there isn't really any other down side, apart from the failure to reduce my book mountain. And don't blame me if you get lost browsing their library...

School dinners

Many a school dinner has passed my lips (and plenty of breakfasts and suppers too). I was nine when I went to boarding school. We sat to eat at long tables - four down each side and a prefect at the head, who served the food. In my case, this was Jael Johnson and my first meal there was tinned ravioli in tomato sauce. Each table had a plate stacked high with Mothers Pride sliced white - I suppose providing copious quantities of bread was a sure way of making sure children were full by the end of each meal. I took a slice and mopped up the sauce, unaware that her eagle eyes were upon me. "What do you think you're doing? We're not Spanish here you know".

A somewhat brutal, but effective lesson learned - to keep your head down and watch how other people do things first. To conform for an easy life. To speedily dispatch whatever happened to present itself on your plate. It wasn't how things were at home, but it was clear that certain adjustments would need to be made.

Before boarding school I had never encountered tinned ravioli, or Findus crispy pancakes. Even Arctic roll was unchartered waters. My mother cooked from scratch - that was the way it was done.   And coming home for the holidays was such a blessed dietary relief. Because food really is love, especially if it doesn't come out of a cardboard box.

Pip over at Meet Me at Mikes is running a School lunches writing challenge, and this post is my way of joining in. Hey, it worked for Eliza Beynon, author of The Vicar's Wife's Cook Book. She got a book deal out of a Waitrose Food Illustrated competition.

And I found a copy of her book  in the library this morning (a fresh, new, first borrower copy no less). Wow, that woman can write a good meal.  Something from it's pages will be landing on our table very soon.

Apple snow

Thimbleina was asking for ideas to use up apples this week.  When faced with this kind of dilemma, I always find myself turning to Nigel Slater's Real Fast Puddings.

My battered paperback version has been with me for many years and is well thumbed. I love the way the book is organized by seasons and driven largely by fruit - Autumn is stuffed full of ideas for blackberries, plums, apples, damsons and pears. So when I returned home with my clutch of Bramleys, I knew Nigel could be relied on to come up with something - and he didn't disappoint.

Apple snow with maple syrup sauce....

First I made an apple puree (3 big bramleys, some ground cinnamon and a pinch of mixed spice, cooked gently with a couple of tablespoons of water until that magical moment when the fruit gives up it's form.

The maple syrup sauce was 150ml of maple syrup, 100ml of double cream and 75g of butter simmered together for 10 mins until slightly thickened. It keeps for a couple of days in the fridge if you don't eat it all at once.

To make the apple snow,  beat 2 large egg whites with half a teaspoon of cream of tartar until the stiff peak stage. Then you can fold in the apple puree and put the snow into glasses or ramekins in the fridge.

When you're ready to eat, pour on the maple syrup sauce.`

They tick every box on my 'successful pudding' checklist. Simple, fast, containing fruit (for a nod to healthy eating), prepare ahead, but somehow with an air of indulgence.

I ate a stray ramekin for lunch today with a new copy of Scaredy Squirrel makes a friend. Sometimes I buy the children books that are really for me. Bit like making them a pudding for the benefit of the leftovers.

Guess who's coming to tea?

Just one more book related post (indulge me please). One of the best things about working in a bookshop is opening the deliveries each morning - even though they're not all for me, I just get a little shiver of excitement as I unwrap the goodies.

A big box-load of Jane Brocket's Cherry Cake and Ginger Beer arrived in the shop on Friday. Yes, a very big box, because we have something special planned.

Mostly Books are hosting an afternoon tea in the company of Jane Brocket. She'll be introducing some of her favourite passages from children's literature and the recipes inspired by them, as well as doing an iced bun demonstration. And I dare say she might be persuaded to sign a few copies of both her books.

If you are within reach of Abingdon and would like to join us for tea (Saturday August 23rd - 4pm), booking details are in the newsletter here (scroll down a bit). It's worth a bit of a trek, not only for Jane herself, but Abingdon is a little crafter's paradise with a great fabric shop, a wool shop, a lovely stationers/art shop and a scrapbooking/embroidery shop, all of them independent and charming and well worth a visit.

I'm so sorry if you live on another continent - don't be sad. I promise to raise a marmalade bun in your honour.

Thank you so so much for all your wonderful reading suggestions on the last post (especially you shy commenters, who I don't hear from so often). I'll be re-visiting them frequently as I browse the shelves this summer. For a long while, the book in the lead for me was Nicole Krauss' The History of Love, but then 'm' gave a summary of Tove Jansson's The Summer Book, that totally won me over. So 'm', please e-mail me your details and I'll pop a little something in the post to you.

I'd rather just stay home and read

Thankfully there are some activities the rain cannot spoil.

Like last night's talk at Mostly Books, from Nicola Beauman (of Persephone) and dinner afterwards with Monica (who'd driven all the way over for the event).

My lasting impression of the event is the (entirely unoriginal) thought - so many books, so little time. 

What have you enjoyed reading of late? Sell it to me in a comment and I'll pick one and send you a little book parcel giveaway in return.

Al fresco cooking

Is it shameful to be constantly tapping my children for blog fodder? Thankfully, someone in the household still has time to be creative. It isn't me, that's for sure. But I would miss the act of blogging sorely, so you'll have to indulge me. And today, it is worth it. Because there was something very special happening in the garden.

Mark's friend Chloe came to play after school, bringing with her this gem of a book. And what marvels it contains.

No supermarket is as well-stocked as a forest, a sand dune, or your own backyard, and everyone knows that dolls dote on mud, when properly prepared. Invite everyone, for Pencil Sharpener Pudding, Dandelion Souffle, Wood Chip Dip, and, of course, Mud Pies.

I knew as soon as I saw it, that we needed a copy. It is utterly charming and funny for the way in which all the recipes are presented so seriously.

FRIED WATER
Melt one ice cube in a skillet by placing it in the sun. When melted, add 1 cup water and sauté slowly until water is transparent. Serve small portions, because this dish is rich as well as mouth-watering.

Unfortunately, it is out of print and has proved a bit tricky to track down. But  for something so enchanting, it was worth the effort.

Hors d'oeuvre anyone?

The Good Life

Being a woman of mystery isn't my usual style. Time to come clean about my much anticipated day yesterday. I went to London to meet up with Alice of The Magpie Files. Which would have been enough excitement in its own right (especially as she had promised a visit to the Champagne Bar in the new St Pancras - the woman has style). But she had other plans up her sleeve too. After a quick stop at Liberty, we jumped on a bus and arrived here:

Any guesses yet? Perhaps this will help:



Persephone + fairy buns - it could only mean Jane Brocket of Yarnstorm. She was speaking at a Persephone Lunch about the domestic arts (knitting, crocheting, baking, quilting, a great deal of reading) as practised by her. And she made cupcakes (to match the books of course) for afternoon tea.

Jane is an amazingly gifted speaker and I was totally engaged (well, apart from the part of my brain that was busy wondering who the other people in the room were, because I had already spotted Julie Arkell and Janet Bolton in the audience). She brought along a load of her quilts, tea cosies and embroidery for us to see.

Perhaps it's only me, but it is so weird seeing in real life, something you've seen on a blog. New, yet familiar. Much the same as meeting bloggers in the flesh, which, in my experience, has never been anything other than delightful.

Alice and I made a new friend too (Hi Kristina!). She SO needs a blog, she knits, she sews, she bakes, she's charming. I've spoken before about my personal crusade to indoctrinate all crafty folk into the wonderful world that is blogging. Come on Kristina, dive in, the water's lovely.

And as we sat in the Champagne Bar of St Pancras, sipping our bubbly and nattering yarn, sewing, life and the universe. I had a moment of blinding clarity. Life is good, very good.

Sometimes I wonder if I bore my real life friends rigid when I 'talk crafty', but I think they have been listening (with their eyes closed), because one of them returned from holiday with this. Hooray!


I have fallen in love with the appliqued dahlias on this apron.

Although I'm not sure why she is in the kitchen with her wellies on. Perhaps she's been in the garden harvesting her tomatoes. If she was in our house, the rattle of hand on doorknob would have triggered a bellow of 'Have you taken your shoes off?'.

I found the gas man, who had come to service the boiler, padding around in his socks once. I had shouted at him from another room, thinking he was one of the kids.

P is for… Pippi Longstocking

As a child I never read Pippi Longstocking, but I think I would have loved it if I had. I saw this wonderful edition, illustrated by Lauren Child, while we were glamping and I had to buy it there and then.

It saved our bacon as we got stuck in a major traffic jam shortly afterwards. Thankfully the boys were totally enthralled by Pippi's shenanigans. Well, if you don't count several billion interruptions from Johnny demanding to be shown the pictures.

I know the Ragged Roses household are loving their copy too.

O is for… Old photos

Pictures from other people's childhoods are a source of great fascination to me. Pouring over them to see if there are any signs of the adult they are to become. So I thought I'd share a few of mine.

My little friend Kirsten and I, in Fiji on my second birthday. She's got the balloon (and some fabby rick rack trim going on) and I've got reading matter - bookworm then, bookworm now.

My brother and I at some petting zoo in Holland. He is the same age in that picture as his eldest son is now and they are so similar - it's their expressions, right Tess?

And with my folks aged 6. We were living in the Cayman Islands at the time and my Dad was playing in the band for a production of South Pacific. This was opening night, all dressed up in our best south sea islander finery. I still remember the words to most of the songs from the production. Check out my Mum rocking that halter top look too!

I'm in the middle of reading Tokyo Cancelled by Rana Dasgupta - thirteen passengers stranded overnight in an airport amuse one another by telling stories. One tale deals with a 'memory editor' whose job it is to sift through the memories of strangers, cleansing them of painful experiences to create a DVD. It is marketed under the name 'MyPast' to individuals of a generation forgetting their own history. Something about it reminded me of the experience of blogging. Perhaps I need to take my role as 'memory editor' more seriously.

Charlie and Lola 3 giveaway

Our favourite chums are visiting Space and playing musical instruments this month. To get your pink milk loving mitts on a giveaway copy of this kids craft magazine, leave me a comment and tell me what you're doing to preserve your sanity while the munchkins are on holiday.

This pre-supposes you have munchkins, because if you don't, shame on you for trying to get your paws on a kids comic!

And blogger is not e-mailing me your comments - so if I haven't replied to yours, don't think I'm ignoring you. Is anyone else having the same problem?

Sarah Raven’s Garden Cookbook

I've been a big fan of Sarah Raven ever since I began gardening - I own her book 'The Cutting Garden' which sets out to help you plan a space which provides you with plenty of cut flowers (and greenery) for your house, without your borders looking pillaged.

In my personal fantasy future, I spend a great deal of time wafting around my walled garden, collecting blooms in a suitably vintage trug and arranging them with casual elegance. Reality involves more yelling of 'Keep your truck out of my flowerbed', but hey, I can dream.

I've noticed that a lot of gardeners are foodies. It makes me trust them more. Personally, I can't see the point in growing a swede as big as a boulder if it's inedible. I feel the same about growing onions - why? When they are dirt cheap at the greengrocers and don't taste any better for being freshly harvested.

So I was very intrigued to see this offering on the bookshop shelves.



Now, I've only had a twenty second flip through this, but it's already it's on my wish list. The recipes are arranged according to a central ingredient that you've harvested from your garden (or at least bought in season from the supermarket!). That struck me as hugely sensible - 20 things to do with rhubarb, because it's coming out of your ears at the moment, but you want to make the most of it being in season.

Now all I need to do is make some space on my overloaded cookbook shelf. I find parting with cookbooks difficult. There's something about the patina of food splashes which makes them very personal. No draconian uncluttering advice for me!

The Surprise

Take one sheep, one special friend and a top secret project.

This beautiful book, by Sylvia van Ommen, a Dutch author/illustrator tells the story without words. It's a theme played out over and over again here in crafty blogland and when I saw the book, it made me want to cry. If you see it on a shelf near you, pick it up. You won't be sorry.

Lotta fun

So many times, I buy great craft books - read and love them and then utterly fail to make any projects from them. I was in danger of doing that with Amy Butler's In Stitches, when along came the In Stitches sew along group at Flickr.

Every month Finny and Africankelli choose a pattern from the book and folks post their examples of it to the pool. I really like seeing everyone's versions of the same item and there are usually lots of helpful tips on the pattern flying around too. It also motivated me to finish my Lounge Pants.

But look what I've gone and purchased now, and I'm not the only one.

So now I need to justify it, and what better way, than with a Flickr group of it's own.
And sewing a project to put in said Flickr Group.



A picnic placemat, made using an Ikea heavy cotton print. The reverse is the opposite colourway of the same print. But I think using twill tape for the ties may have been a mistake because it creases like crazy.

So if you fancy joining in the Lotta fun, please pop over to Flickr and join. I've never set up or moderated a group before - it's fly by the seat of your pants stuff!

When Johnny and I went to Mostly Books for our weekly story time fix, Anu pointed me towards a real gem - "The incredible book eating boy" by Oliver Jeffers. My boys are intrigued by the tale of Henry, a boy who develops a taste for eating books and nearly comes to a sticky end before he realizes that reading them is just as good.





The tale is a good one, but the illustrations - they are truly wonderful. If you take a look through this sketch book you'll get an idea of his style. Then run out and buy the book.

I'm not sure why I am buying any more children's books, because after hearing about my plea for 6 year old reading recommendations, Tess, my lovely sister-in-law sent Mark this pile of goodies. Should keep him busy for a while!




And thanks so much to Bethany for this parcel of vintage style lovelies - I find it impossible to believe that Bitter Betty Blogs is only a year old, but I enjoyed sharing in the celebrations.

Change the world

My car is in the garage and has been since Friday. You have no idea how many favours I have had to call in to cope with 2 kids who have schools in opposite directions, neither of which are walkable.

Sometimes village life isn't all roses round the door.

Still, looking on the bright side, my personal carbon footprint is looking so much better.

I've been reading this book - it's all about small personal steps we could take to change our world. And when I read Amy's post, I cheered. As they say at Tesco, every little helps.

Sorry, no photos, blogger really hates me. Perhaps it is because I'm a Slytherin...

Happy World Book Day!

Although I gather the rest of the world isn't celebrating it today, but hey, eccentricity is meant to be a British characteristic.

Reading is a really important part of life in our house. When Mark was tiny, snuggling up with a book was always his favourite thing. It guarantees one-to-one adult attention, gives ample scope for cuddles, educates and entertains - the perfect blend really. He lugged around a series of books as a security blanket, the most beloved being "Kennst du Das? On the farm" - unhelpfully in German, but when you can't read I guess it doesn't matter.

The not reading stage didn't last long in his case, as he was reading at 3. I thought he had just memorised lots of his books, but one day we were on the Motorway and he read the side of a truck. I very nearly crashed. And just in case you're thinking it, I swear I wasn't a pushy mummy, busy with the flash cards. Life's too short.

Mark's been devouring books ever since. Current favourite - Charlotte's Web. I loved it as a child and it looks like the magic still works. When he was told that his class were dressing up as book characters today, he had to be Templeton.

Johnny is very jealous of the furry costume and refused to put on his shirt in protest. He also refused to stay out of the picture. I think I may need to make a second. The fake fur is incredibly good quality, with a suede-ish backing. So much nicer than scratchy acrylic. I quite fancy a furry suit of my own...

So, what are your book recommendations for reading matter for a 6 year old boy? Because when he comes home with his book token, we're going to need a spending plan.

Kate tagged me with this weird things meme.

RULES: People who get tagged need to write a blog post of 6 weird things about them as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment that says "you are tagged" in their comments and tell them to read your blog.

1. I am normal - it's everyone else that is weird really. Let's just get that straight.
2. I often wave at people I don't know - sometimes because I think I know them and I don't, but sometimes just because I find the expression on their faces (trying-to-look-friendly-when-I-can't-remember-who-you-are) really really funny. The thought that they then spend the next few hours racking their brains to remember me makes me laugh even more.
3. I can't bear people drinking from my milk - I'll happily share a sip of anything else, but if you touch my milk, I can't drink it.
4. I have to clean my ears with a cotton bud every morning - not doing so would be worse than failing to brush my teeth (which I need to do twice in the morning, once first thing and then again just before I leave the house).
5. I have saved the baby teeth Mark has lost. I don't know why or what I am going to do with them. By the time he and Johnny have lost them all maybe I'll have enough for a necklace (kidding!)
6. I own 46 pairs of knickers (not counting the pair I have on) - but I am not so weird that I knew that without going to the drawer and counting them.

Tagging the following possible weirdos - Soo, Kirsten, Joanna, Megan, Monica, and Sarah.

Thanks for all the pottery good wishes yesterday - I had a great time - made a pot (unfinished) and a handful of buttons. Marie, the potter, has a huge old dog which snores - listening to him breathe is better than meditation.

And you know that Judith Levine book we were all interested in? Beware of how you get your hands on it - look at the controversy it's stirring up. Judith herself has been compelled to comment...