What would we do without Pinterest?

Dark days, I haven’t been out with my camera for a week so I was climbing the walls with frustration. The weather has just been too bad, and the days so short.

So, I decided to make the best of things and find other – indoor – creative outlets.

This week I’ve been attempting to paint on glass, inspired by Pinterest posts. I went to town to see if I could find any suitable glass jars in charity shops to practice on, but no. So I bought a cheap jar in Wilko’s and also found a source of chalk paint there.

I thought I’d better have a practice go with the cheap jar before I risk investing in the Ball and Mason jars which I admire so much. They don’t seem to be as common here as in USA.

So this is my version. Add a few silk flowers and I’m fairly pleased with it. I’m prepared to invest in the fancy jars now but would really prefer to upcycle some used ones. Maybe Kilner jars would do…

I’ve also done a bit of festive cooking inspired by Pinterest, namely a Christmas tree breadstick creation. Like many others who had a go at this one, I shared my effort on Pinterest and was heartened to see what a mess some people made of it. Mine wasn’t too bad if I do say so myself.

I also had a bash at Brie and Cranberry bites. As I’m the only one here, including the dog, who likes like Brie or cranberries I had to eat them all myself. Shame, wasn’t it. They weren’t as photogenic as the ones on Pinterest that inspired me, but they tasted fine. Anything with Brie in it tastes fine to me. I was too proud to take a picture of them because they looked a bit sad. Besides, I’d eaten them before I thought of it.

I did attempt to make sweet potato crisps, but that was such a fiasco that I can’t bear to talk about it. However, there is plenty more inspiration on Pinterest. 

Anyone got any Ball and Mason jars they don't want? 

I'll settle for Kilner.

Anyone?...

Hände hoch!

 

I was going to call this blog post 'Fraternising with the Enemy' on a whim. But that isn't fair, nor is it true. But still, if my grandparents could have seen me this week they would have been surprised. For someone born in the '50s, and brought up on post-war videos I have experienced my first holiday in the country that bombed us, so we bombed them... you know how it goes.

In one street we passed a young father strapping a toddler into his car seat. He said 'Hände hoch!' and we had to smile. Those words are imprinted on our minds as a phrase shouted repeatedly by young German soldiers rounding up prisoners and pointing their rifles at them, in war film after war film. Hands up!

But. I must say. I like the Germans; I can hardly believe that the landlord of our B&B had grandparents that probably fought our grandparents. It was a bit surreal...

Now that we have a son who lives and works in Germany we had a good opportunity to visit.  We landed at Frankfurt and dropped into a loud and trendy restaurant with a Disney buffalo theme [see above]. It was an eyeopener for parents in their 60's, but such fun. 

Our son lives about an hour from Frankfurt in a quaint village where everything is in walking distance. We were most interested in the cafe which opened at 6.00am, and we strolled over for breakfast and feasted on hot coffee and rolls. And later in the evening, we drove to the next town to sample authentic German schnitzel;  Schweineschnitzel. We visited his friends and families in their homes, which were mostly quaint and old-fashioned but imbued with a definite sense of homeliness and warmth. 

The village that we stayed in had a giant tower that is encased in a red cover topped with an electric candle which lights up during the Christmas period. We were a bit too early to experience their Christmas Market, but stalls had begun to be set up in the cobbled market square. I am sure the area must be bustling when the market starts but honest to goodness, we hardly ever saw a soul. The odd passerby was glimpsed through our windows, but where was everybody? It appears they all get up earlier than us and are at work by the time we are having breakfast.

My misconceived impression of Germans as stiff and stoic, joyless and authoritarian was completely overturned, I mean - just think of that candle. When we were with his friends we had a hilarious evening or two; they laugh loud. They did like to goad us about Brexit, but I refused to go there. I withstood teasing about my Tetley tea bags that I had fortunately brought with me; they called it Brexit Tea. 

About tea. Proper tea - it needs looking for. I mostly got offered Earl Grey, which is nice in its own way, but not acceptable when you are needing a big mug of builder's. Or they had Rooibus, which was, quite frankly, disgusting. That is not their fault. I would find it disgusting in any country. Anyway, here are some pics...

Look what I have got!

After waiting patiently for over 7 years, I have got one!

I started off with a 4-oven, white, gas-fired beauty many years ago, then swapped for an elderly cream 2-oven after moving house some years later, then to nothing after moving again.

Now finally, after I have been quietly pining away, we have a shiny, navy blue, second-hand gas friendly, warm, cosy Aga. It is sitting there in my kitchen, with a large kettle on the top waiting to make tea.

Why did I want one? I can’t tell you. But when we brought home the first one, a snip at £500, I ran my hands along the solid iron top and felt like I had come home. All other cookers were mere toys to me; I know I had many people to cook for, so this may have had something to do with it.

I don’t have that excuse now, a mere 4 people live in this house. I can cope with my electric hob and my electric oven half way up the wall in a box. But I don’t like them, I never warmed to them.

When the children were little, and we had that 4 oven Aga, the baking and roasting was done using the instructions as follows:

Hot stuff like roasting – top right

Medium temp stuff like baking cakes – bottom right

Warming plates, keeping food hot and overnight slow cooking – top left

Keeping kids feet warm – bottom left.

All my recipes had cooking instructions written with ‘cook 40 minutes top right’, or ‘bake 20 mins bottom right’, or ‘leave overnight top left’, which meant they were difficult to share with friends who had no Aga.

In the Autumn and Winter the kids would come in cold and damp after school, kick their shoes off, and lay on the rug on the kitchen floor in a perfect semi-circle with their chilly feet warming slowly in the bottom left. This was the ‘cold feet’ oven, and no food was ever cooked in it.

When I was pregnant and I couldn’t sleep, I would creep downstairs for a quiet cuppa. As I was up and in the kitchen I thought I might as well use the heat of the oven and knock up some chocolate flapjack ready for the next day. Have you ever smelt chocolate flapjack as it comes out of a hot oven? The melted chocolate and syrupy sweet aroma is very pungent, and the smell wafted up the two and a half flights of stairs to the top floor, and slowly, one by one, the children would drift sleepily down, rubbing their eyes, asking where that lovely smell was coming from and could they eat it.

And after I’d had the baby, the grab rail that runs along the entire length of the cooker was an ideal aid to enable me to do exercises, rather like the bars ballerinas have while making me a cup of tea or roast dinner at the same time. Wet clothes will dry hanging above it. Cold pyjamas will warm on the rail ready to slip children into before they go to bed. Cups of tea will stay warm if left on the top, while you go and sort something out. Dinners can be put in the warming oven for late-comers, with no need for a microwave.

Come and have a cuppa by my Aga. I think you might like it…

The arrival...

Hygge time again

I’ve just got back from walking the dog and am happily ensconced with a cup of tea on the sofa wrapped in a warm and generously proportioned jumper. I may not have an open fire crackling in the grate but it feels like I have, I’m so comfy. I have to stop myself from getting up to put another log on the imaginary fire. This is my English version of hygge with knobs on, and I love it.

It’s a soul-wrenchingly beautiful autumn morning out there, so beautiful that I have to have a sit down to recover. I love these autumn days as the year is dying. To be out there where the colours are so vivid and the air is crisp but slightly misty in the mornings. The grass is wet and the dew is still hanging in the spider webs among the teasels. The sun is struggling to stay out before the grey clouds win the battle and the day becomes dull and damp. It won’t be long before the weather turns foul, if you can believe the forecast.

Once again I feel a rush of gratitude to my dog for existing and giving me a reason for getting out in the early morning.

I have to go out later this morning in the wild wet weather, but I’m well prepared. Thanks to Lola, Kate’s dog, eating my coat last week it’s been replaced by a far superior one I found in a sale at the weekend. It’s great, a proper dog-walking-in-all weathers sort of coat. So, bring it on! It only makes coming home more pleasurable.

Cats vs Cucumbers, or ...Four mad dogs and a grandson.

This is about a day spent babysitting one grandson (as above) and four lively dogs (see below).

Archie ‘the devil I know’

Sam 'I'll be your shadow'

Elmo ‘The Lookout’

Lola ‘Butter wouldn’t melt…’

When my daughter Kate asked me if I could babysit for her again one day this half term while she went to work I was happy to say yes. For one thing, I knew I would get a good spicy dinner out of it. As she lives a good 50 minutes drive away, more if you add in rush hour traffic, I would go there on Sunday afternoon in order to be on the spot on Monday morning. To make it an even better deal, she offered to pick me up on Sunday and take me home after work on Monday. Suits me!

I thought what a good idea it would be to take Archie with me. What fun it would be for him. He gets so bored being an Only Dog. This would provide him with some Pack experience, because Kate has not one dog but two, and sometimes (as this time) three when she looks after her fiancé’s lively dog as well.

So, Kate rocked up on Sunday afternoon with a car boot full of dogs. We quickly added Archie to the mix and loading me and my bags on board we set off.

In the morning the dogs woke up early ready for breakfast and a lively day chasing each other around the house. Every so often Sam or Lola, sometimes both, would insist on lying all over me for a rest. Archie was relegated to a blanket on the floor. Elmo kept watch at the window while the others got their breath back. Then off they all went again.

My grandson James fortunately wasn’t quite as lively as the dogs, at least not during the morning. He was happy to play some sort of golf game on his iPad and talk to me about it. I like to listen, so we were both happy. Mid-morning, we got ourselves a snack and drink and the dogs amused themselves continuing to establish the pecking order and belting round the house like mad. Elmo, the small one with a Napoleon complex, had obviously decided that he is Top Dog and also that it is up to him to keep a look out. Stationing himself from time to time at a bedroom window, he barked at the slightest provocation and all the others joined in dutifully. We were downstairs so didn’t care. Archie had to learn to take orders from the Top Dog.

It was a pleasant morning finding out stuff I didn’t know. Amazing how much you can learn from your grandchildren! This is where Cats vs Cucumbers comes into it. James, taking a short break from talking about golf, brought me up to speed on the subject. Apparently, would you believe, lots of people have tried to see how their cats react to an unexpected cucumber. A cucumber is placed near a cat when it’s not looking, then when it notices it the reaction is filmed and shared on YouTube. And believe me, sometimes the reaction is well worth a look! Some cats don’t react much or ignore it. Other cats are completely spooked and leap yowling into the air. Somebody has collected these videos and put them together, keeping score. Cucumbers were definitely winning as far as I could see. I am deeply indebted to James for showing me this and I intend to buy a cucumber as soon as possible and try it out on our cat. My hunch is that he will ignore it.

Anyway, back to babysitting.

At lunchtime Kate came back for a short break and we took the dogs for a rather hectic walk in the woods nearby.

During the afternoon James got livelier and the dogs quietened down a bit. After a nail biting time watching James play indoor golf with a thin branch and a real golf ball, I thought I’d take a quick photo of all the dogs napping companionably together upstairs. It wasn’t until after I’d snapped Lola sleeping and I was editing the picture that I realised she was sleeping on my new coat. Having hefted her off it I discovered she’d actually been eating it and had chewed holes in the area of the pocket I usually put dog treats in. Typical beagle. Very food motivated. I should have known better than to leave the coat where she could get it. That dog could even tell from a distance when I was going into the kitchen. Very impressive!

Now I'm just waiting for an opportunity to use the excuse ' Sorry I can't..... the dog ate my coat'

Kate got home from work just in time to stop James dying of boredom. I’m not a very exciting sort of Nana really, but at least I didn’t stop the indoor golf and no windows/vases/bones were broken. Well, I had a good time anyway and Archie had enough fun and excitement to last a month at least.

Now I’m off to buy a cucumber…