Cornwall

My family have been spending their summer holiday in this part of the world since I was about 5 years old - I can remember the first farm house we stayed in, nestled in golden fields with a downstairs bathroom.  Going down at New Year has only been a family tradition for the last three years or so but in my book doing something twice is enough for it to deserve to be called a tradition.  West Cornwall in December is probably not for you if you are after some winter sun, but it is one of those places that can be explored no matter what the weather or time of year - it always allows you to make new discoveries and tempts you back with the hint of more coyly held secrets.

We had four (yes, FOUR) dogs to keep us company.  Fitting four adults, one nine year old and five dogs into a tiny car was an interesting and muddy experience.

Luckily they slept a lot after their adventures...

...for about 20 minutes.  Then it was time to get up and go again, to seek out new horizons and interesting smells.

 
As a treat one morning we had a delicious brunch at Mackerel Sky Cafe in Penzance.   Sea air and a full English both rank highly on my list of favorite things - both together creates a triple word score combo bonus (if that's a real thing - I'm not a Scrabble player, my spelling isn't up to it.  It's good spelling, but it wobbles and the letters get in the wrong places).

In the land of daydreams and make-believe we bought a chapel that we saw for sale, did it up and made a beautiful home and a tidy profit.  In real life, it didn't have mains water or sewerage and we didnt have the money.  Sad times.

On New Year's Eve, we toasted marshmallows on the beach as 2013 was rung in and watched as a group of enthusiastic young-ens rushed into the sea, unable to wait any longer for their first swim.

“If only there could be an invention that bottled up a memory, like scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. And then, when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living the moment all over again.”
―Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca

 See you soon granite shore, don't forget us.

Fewston, we have a problem

My husband and I had a rare and unexpected chance to spend to day together today.  He usually works weekends while I work Monday to Friday - I think the last day off we had together was Christmas day.  This morning I was pottering around in the kitchen, putting a cake in the oven, not expecting him back until late afternoon when he re-appeared.  My natural pessimism and recent overdose of Arrested Development meant I assumed he had been fired.  No such drama however, the rota had simply been wrong.  I had been planning a cinema visit but we decided to make the most of the clear skies and mostly melted snow to get some fresh air and fresh sights for our tired eyes.  So we went to Fewston Reservoir, as recommended by the Walking Englishman.

 
The walk starts in a small car park off the A59 in the delightfully named Blubberhouses and takes you round the reservoir in a loop.  In late January this was a bracing, windy walk around the very swollen waterway, some of it very slushy with Friday's heavy snow fall.  In some of the quieter nooks the surface was frozen - we saw a few ducks milling about on the opaque ice. 

The drowned trees make me think of beavers - blast those beavers and their pesky dam making. 

We were able to indulge in one of our favorite activities, dog gawping.  We saw many lovely specimens and a particularly adorable German Shepherd puppy (sadly I have yet to find the courage to photograph stranger's dogs, no matter how cute they are).  I am still convinced my rent-a-dog business idea is a winner for dog lovers with lifestyles that are not dog friendly.

I was so cold by the time we got back to the car park that I simply had to go and sit in the sauna at the gym and then go home for tea and cake.

Happy Sunday x

Ode to a mug

Is there any pleasure like the pleasure of a cup of tea in your new favorite mug?

I bought this mug at a honey farm in Cornwall last summer.  I wanted to take it to work to remind me of the blue horizon on grey, hard days when it feels like all I do is sleep and sit at my desk.  A few weeks ago I saw the same mug in a shop and suddenly remembered - what had happened to my mug?  I had misplaced it in the hustle of returning home and found it again today unexpectedly, which made the joy of first use even greater.  In celebration, I put hot chocolate in it and took it up to bed.

Very bad things

So many terrible things happened to me on Monday.  First of all, it was a Monday morning in early December.  December should be a time of anticipation and excitement, or so I thought before I started working.  When at school/college/university, December is a time of winding down, poems about robins, rehearsals for Christmas productions (I was once Father Christmas himself, a role I took very seriously), Christmas lists and snow.  That's how it seems as I look back anyhow.  In the big scary world of work however, things are very different.  December is a month of frantic activity, boarding on panic, as the world and his wife declares Important Things must happen before Christmas or all is DOOMED.  Apparently, nothing can possibly be accomplished in January because everyone is far too depressed by post-holiday hangover and empty wallet syndrome.  Therefore, everything that ever needs to happen ever, must happen by December 24.  Sometimes these things don't happen, but then they usually happen in February (once I even heard of something happening in January, but it may be an office legend).

Monday was a disasted for the following reasons:

1. I woke up in complete disbelief that it could be time to get up already.  My phone must be wrong.  There is no light from yonder window.  It is unnatural to get out of bed in the pitch black.  Also, I was having intense Lord of the Rings related dreams about epic battles that would determine the fate of Middle Earth, which made the pile of things on my desk seem very unimportant by comparison. 
2. I left the house late (see 1) and got ten steps from my door when my feet flew from under me and I landed on the icy pavement, resulting in several tears and serious contemplation of retuning to bed.  I decided that falling over and being a little bruised and upset did not justify a sick day.
3. Several other things failed to go smoothly, mostly involving Outlook freezing at inopportune moments.
4.  My work blackberry was finally presented to me - not entirely a bad thing but it has cemented the fact that I am now a proper grown up who pays taxes, has a pension and opinions on Michael Gove.
5. Husband has a man cold, requiring much sympathy and olbas oil.

However, I am going to attempt to be positive and sprightly and zingy and perhaps tomorrow will be better.  Or perhaps I really will break something on the sheet ice, and will be emailing frantically on the blackberry from my hospital bed.

Oh Christmas tree

I love traditions and Christmas traditions in particular.  One of the lovely things about setting up your own home and starting your own little family of two is that you can start your own family traditions, as well as keeping up the old.  When I was a child, my mum would let us choose a new decoration each year when we went to get our Christmas tree from a local garden center.  Our tree was a joyful mis-match of salt dough creations, heirloom decorations bought by my Grandma in Germany and new and shiny trinkets that had caught our eyes in the treasure cave decoration aisle that year.

My new tradition in my own home and for my own tree is to make a new decoration each year.  Last year I made this Babushka, from Felties by Nelly Pailloux.

I have been searching for a pattern for this years decoration and came across these beauties:

Half eaten gingerbread man

Personalised Onesie

Felt baubles - these would also make beautiful Christmas cards

String Baubles - this is an Easter project but I think they would look great on a tree!

Modeling clay snowflakes

Happy December 2nd!

Banana Bread

Photo taken from Apples for Jam

There are a bazillion recipes for banana bread out there, and I'm sure they are all good in their own ways, but this is the ultimate, numero uno, forever faithful all time favorite.  Trust me!  The bananas need to be so over ripe they're almost black.  Although it's called bread for alliterations sake it is definitely cake, decadent enough for pudding and also simple enough for afternoon tea and cake.  And maybe even for breakfast - it's almost fruit after all.  A testament to its deliciousness is that I didn't have time to take a photo before it was all gone!

Banana Bread

120g (4 1/2 oz) butter
180g (6 1/2 oz) dark brown sugar
350g (12 oz or about 4 medium) ripe bananas, mashed
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp ground cinnamon
250g (9 oz) plain flour
1 tsp baking powder
3/4 tsp bicarbonate of soda
3 tbs warm milk
2 tbs demerara sugar

1. Pre-heat the oven to 180 degrees C/350 degrees F/Gas 4 and butter a 12 x 4 inch loaf tin.
2. Cream together the butter and brown sugar until smooth and then whisk in the mashed bananas.  Add the eggs, vanilla, cinnamon and a pinch of salt and whisk.
3. Mix the bicarbonate of soda into the milk and stir into the batter
4. Scrape the mixture into the tin and sprinkle the demerara sugar over the top.  Bake for 50 minutes until crusty on top and a skewer inserted into the middle comes out clean.  Turn out onto a rack to cool.

Adapted from Apples for Jam, by Tessa Kiros.

Weekend Fun

I've only been in the big, scary world of work for a few months but already I've come to learn how important weekends are for your mental health.  As much as I love idle coffee and papers time, I find I keep filling my free time to the brim.  Last weekend I saw A Town Called Panic at Hyde Park Picture House as part of this years Leeds International Film Festival.  It was just what I needed, a crazy, funny, sweet adventure involving a swarve Horse, a cowardly Cowboy and a bolshy Indian.  A slightly odd thing happened on my way in though.  I'd booked two tickets but I ended up going alone so after collecting the tickets from the box office I turned to the queue behind me and asked if anyone would like the spare.  A woman said that she would, but when I gave it to her she took it without a word.  No thank you, no grateful look.  Very strange indeed, but I did a good thing and hopefully it has still accrued to my karma bank regardless.

On Sunday my boyfriend and I went on our first wedding venue viewing excursion.  I had seen the outside of this place before and was smitten.  Picturesque doesn't do justice to the setting, it really is breathtaking.  Inside, I wasn't as impressed unfortunately, but I'm glad we've made a start on what at times feels like an endless quest.

Isn't it beautiful?  I'm quite taken with the idea of an Autumn wedding in the country.

Next weekend I plan to see a few more films being shown as part of the festival, including Handmade Nation at A Nation of Shopkeepers (possibly my favorite name for a bar ever).  Entry is free and there will also be handmade goods for sale and a how-to workshop.  Very Excite!