Friday

Whew! What a week: getting stuck in the snow on Sunday whilst traversing the West Yorkshire moors; mortgage applications (and much finger-crossing); crazy weather; crazy toddler; visits to friends; cooking and baking and shopping and... 

Anyway. It looks set to be quite a busy weekend too, but in a good way. Lunch at a local Italian restaurant for a family birthday will definitely be the highlight. I love Italian food.

It's been bitterly cold around here. I complained equally as bitterly to the letting agent (here earlier for their regular inspection to ensure we haven't trashed the place) about what a freezing house this is. Still, if everything goes to plan we'll have our very own little nest again soon.

My miniature daffodils are blooming away happily in the front window and look like little yellow stars with the sun shining behind them. We've had gusty winds and hail showers and the snow's gone. It's brightened up a lot this afternoon so hopefully we'll get some weekend walks in and spot more signs of spring coming.

Of course, you may have noticed I made another change to the blog's appearance. Truth is, I've been after that little rabbit for a while but could never get it quite right. I was informed that saving images as PNGs rather than JPEGs can correct the sort of problem I was having. Who knew? Not me, evidently. I did consider using my own photo for the circular image (another thing I've recently got the hang of) but, well - like I said. I wanted the bunny. 

Thank you for your response regarding my proposed new series. I'm hoping to publish my first post on Monday. It seems the logical day to do it: being organised at the start of the week, getting things done. Ties in well with the whole Elegant Economy thing, of running an orderly and efficient household. I can dream... But seriously, I do have so many post ideas already they're popping up like February crocuses coming through the ground. Must be a good sign.

And finally: tonight we're having fish and chips. It doesn't get much better than that, does it?

Have a wonderful weekend.

Elegant Economy

Lately I've been going through a bit of a sleepless phase. It happens. I drop off easily enough but wake in the early hours, mind racing, trying to will myself (unsuccessfully) back to sleep. It isn't usually worrying stuff that keeps me awake. Just random thoughts, plans, ideas. Sometimes I'm thinking about the minutae of daily life. Others I'm plotting blog posts.

A while ago I read Cranford. I'd already watched the series on DVD and I loved the book just as much. And if you visited the blog back then, you may recall I was quite taken with the idea of 'elegant economy' as practised by Misses Matty and Deborah. The very phrase makes thriftiness sound so appealing. Ever since then I've been toying with the idea of a long-term series of posts inspired by it.

I'm thinking household wisdom, the odd little tale here and there, things that (for me) work and those that don't. Domestic details, housekeeping. Food, garden, laundry, cleaning, budgeting (or lack of). Making a home without spending a fortune.

I've been scribbling away in my notebook. It'll be a nice series, I think - and I do like a bit of structure here and there. My current 'regular' posts on a particular theme - Food Memories and Midweek Miscellany - should sit well with my latest project. I'd love to know what you think...

And that is all for now. A brief post, but the little one is upstairs making a dreadful racket opening and closing drawers from his cot. I suspect he's awake. And that his cot needs moving.

The week that was

Of course, I didn't write my usual Midweek Miscellany this time around as I posted on Thursday for the Colour Collective. I have a Thing for not posting on consecutive days (unless something earth-shattering happens and to be honest that's pretty unlikely around here).

So instead, the week in review. 

I'm still enjoying seeking out those little signs that spring is coming. They're necessary; the weather has reverted to moody grey skies, horizontally-falling rain and the odd hail shower. You know when they're coming because the house gets ever darker before the heavens finally open. So, it's cheering to see all these beautiful hellebores and catkins and snowdrops. Soon there'll be euphorbia (one of my favourites).

In addition to hellebore worshipping, I've been admiring the little clumps of purple crocus which have recently sprung up next to the gate. And inhaling the scent from the hyacinths which are now blooming away on the table. They're fascinating to look at close-up: an irridescent pale blue in places, inky indigo in others. They remind me of bluebells.

I had a morning off on Tuesday; Joe's grandparents stayed with him and I tripped off, footloose and fancy free, to the library. I booked a computer and did a bit of this and that then browsed the shelves and spotted the above book. I'm such a sucker for the whole lovely-photography-and-lifestyle type of tome. But it's also brand new. There's something about being the first to borrow a library book. Especially when you're used to those from the children's section which are invariably torn, creased and stained with goodness knows what.

In other news... well, as I mentioned previously we went to Unicorn Grocery and I got rather excitable and spent quite a lot of money on wonderfully wholesome things (and the jute bags to put them in; jute bags are to Unicorn what tealights are to Ikea). I did well to stay away from the herbal tea section though. We came back with nut butter (cashew - my favourite) and rice pasta and noodles, beetroot and frilly lettuces, snacky things, gnocchi, a little gourd just because, polenta... The polenta was really good sliced and fried on the griddle pan then served with roasted tomato and red pepper sauce.

Of course, the clean living couldn't last and on Sunday I baked two Madeira cakes: one for home and one to take to a friend's new place as a house warming gift.

Which brings me neatly to our current situation. We've just had an offer accepted on the 'fixer upper' house. I've had a few sleepless nights which I'm putting down to a mixture of trepidation and giddiness. The house was much cheaper than the similar one a few doors down (our first choice - we offered on that but the owners were trying to get some kind of bidding war going) so we can get work done, stay put here while that happens and in the meantime cross our fingers and hope all goes smoothly.

The house-buying process is so nerve-wracking. Anything could go wrong until we've been given the keys. Hasn't stopped me making lots of plans though. Counting my chickens. Jumping the gun. 

Mr Joe has been quite the handful of late. Contrary: tick. Shouty: tick. Unreasonable: tick tick tick. I know he's two, and he's trying to assert himself and test the boundaries and all the rest of it but sometimes!!! To those of you who have more than one: I salute you. Really, I do.

Admittedly, the biggest problem is usually trying to keep a straight face while he's being naughty... 

Of course, you'll notice I've been making a few changes to the appearance of the blog. HTML, CSS and all the rest of it are way beyond my comprehension but I've been receiving some very welcome help. The changes will continue (in a subtle way) until I'm happy, so expect a bit of a 'work in progress' feel to it all for a while.

This has been one of those posts where I jump from one subject to the next, but that's how life is around here and, I suspect, for you too. Keeps things interesting.

Have a great weekend. 

The Colour Collaborative: February: Precious

I'm very happy to be this month's guest blogger for the Colour Collaborative; I really enjoy thinking about colour in terms of a specific theme or idea. This time around the theme is 'Precious'. Of course, I had a collaboration of my own based around precious things so February's Colour Collective is a good fit.

I suppose it would have been easy to assume all my precious things have been exhausted in terms of blog posts. But no. 'Precious' can apply to anything: objects, memories, people, imaginings... 

The thing I love about colour is that I find myself drawn to the same ones, albeit in different shades, time after time. Mossy greens, grey, lichen... and that seemed to tie in with the whole 'precious' concept. Greens: my collection of inherited 'Anne' books; a volume of Milton's poems (much read and referred to); ceramic decorations from Krakow. And most precious of all: my mum's Green Book.

Sepia shades: little candlesticks bought an age ago from a charity shop; the deer brooch (missing one or two stones but still loved); a collection of antique gloves from an old lady we knew who once owned a dress shop...

Muted pinks and creams: seashells gathered from many holidays both at home and abroad; tattered family photographs, my pile of old linens...

Silver and grey: bits of old 'dress' jewellery (diamante, paste, glass - no diamonds here) which are more precious because they're tarnished and tatty and have tales to tell. And the little crocheted pouch belonged to my paternal grandmother. It was used to hold dance cards.

The way I approached this collaboration was pretty straightforward. I just instinctively went for what I wanted to pick up from around the house and write about; no over-thinking (of course, the arranging bit took a bit of planning but it's exactly the kind of thing I love doing).

And what I realised is that, for me, 'precious' is not about expensive jewellery or valuable antiques. It's about family, sentiment and little things which evoke memories of happy times. Perhaps that's why the colours in this post are actually quite subtle and muted. Gathered finds from nature, old photographs and books have that faded quality about them which says, 'I've been loved and worn and passed down. I have a story.'

That to me is what 'precious' means.

P.S. For the Lynne Truss types (and yes, that would include me): I'm missing a few accents above the letter 'e' here and there but have no idea how to find them using Blogger - sorry!

Don't forget to visit the other Colour Collaborative blogs for more of this month's posts, just click on the links below.

Annie Cholewa

Sandra at Cherry Heart

Gillian at Tales from a Happy House

CJ at Above the River

Jennifer at Thistlebear

What is The Colour Collaborative?

All creative bloggers make stuff, gather stuff, shape stuff, and share stuff. Mostly they work on their own, but what happens when a group of them work together? Is a creative collaboration greater than the sum of its parts? We think so and we hope you will too. We'll each be offering our own monthly take on a colour related theme, and hoping that in combination our ideas will encourage us, and perhaps you, to think about colour in new ways.

Weekend

We're not even halfway through yet, but what with Jay having taken a few days off last week it seems like Sunday already. I tend to lose track of which day it is when the normal routine changes.

So, a bit of a newsy post really; yesterday we went into Manchester for a morning appointment. We stopped off at Unicorn Grocery - more on that in my next post I think (there's a lot to cover). And on Thursday we went for a walk and a wander around Ramsbottom. It was cold but there were signs of spring aplenty as we wandered around the park.

The little snowdrops I cut finally gave up this morning. I had a hellebore in a glass bottle for a day or so but that didn't like the warmth. Still, I placed it between two sheets of paper and put a pile of heavy books on top. I do like pressed flowers.

(Note: for advice on keeping cut hellebores, read what Annie has to say).

Yesterday we went to view two houses. Properties for sale in the village are pretty thin on the ground, and suitable ones are even more scarce. Interestingly the two we went to look at were ten and seven doors up from us. I used to own next door but one to our current house. Am I destined to keep coming back to this street?

Anyway... The  first one was very lovely. Same as this one in terms of size and era (a fairly roomy Victorian terraced) but much warmer and more modern in terms of decor. We liked it. We put in an offer. It was turned down. We put in another (final) offer. They're thinking about it. Bearing in mind the house only went on the market yesterday they seem - understandably - to be keeping their options open.

The next house was three along. Same size, same era. But it needed a lot more work to bring it up to date. It had a lovely feel, and it reminded me in many ways of this place. The price reflects the need for an update. It's been for sale for a while. We're tempted. As in, we could get the work done while still living our current digs. It may work out cheaper than the first house. There's a lot of thinking to do.

We asked the vendors of the first one to give us their decision by Monday evening. Then we shall see.

Are you wondering if I've forgotten Valentine's Day? Well, no I haven't. 

On Thursday I spotted a sweet little tea set in a charity shop window. It's hand-painted, made in Japan and is either porcelain or china (it's so thin the light comes through it). Anyway, Jay sneaked back and bought it for me. I'm a sucker for lustreware and have a bit of a Thing for Oriental vintage trinkets too.

Those little birds! I'm guessing it's 1920s-1940s. I washed it VERY carefully in warm soapy water. I now need a display cabinet for my treasures, I've decided. Then they can be admired. 

Lucky girl that I am, the tea set was accompanied by a box of Turkish delight. Another of my favourite things.

No fancy meal out for us this evening. Once Joe goes to bed (EARLY) we're having steak - courtesy of the 'posh' butcher - and salad, followed by sticky toffee pudding and fancy ice cream. Joe has already sampled the ice cream. He's been on about me buying him some all week and was well aware that we picked some up this morning. In fact he's more familiar with the contents of the freezer than I am.

The prosecco may be opened a little bit earlier. A small glass before we put him up and then several more generous ones.

Have a great weekend and enjoy your Valentine's Day, however you choose to celebrate it.

Midweek miscellany

Wednesday's here again. And it's a short week in a sense as Jay's booked tomorrow and Friday off. Perhaps a long weekend. Actually, both of those things.

Last weekend seems ages ago for some reason. It was a busy one with lots of family activity: canalside walks, steam train adventures, food. Oh, the food. On Saturday we had lunch at a local restaurant and it was wonderful: the panoramic views, the sense of occasion (we rarely eat out) and the pudding. Orange and cardamom bread and butter pudding with vanilla creme anglaise. Heaven on a plate.

In other food news, we have consumed rather a lot of cream. Mushrooms cooked in it. Meatballs in a cream and mustard sauce. Both rich, both delicious. But I'm having a bit of a break now. It seems February's not the best month for dieting either - I'm getting very excited about next week's pancake-based festivities.

Earlier this week Joe and I walked into Ramsbottom. He had a doctor's appointment which resulted in a prescription for antibiotics for an ear infection. These nasty germs do seem to be haunting us at the moment. Still, he's his usual happy self most of the time. He was very pleased that we caught the bus home and even more so that it was a double decker.

While we were out I did that thing where you pick up a few extra provisions: fat sausages from the butcher and a loaf of sourdough from the little supermarket. They had dinky pots of miniature daffodils and very reasonably-priced hydrangea bulbs too so I added some to my basket. Shopping off-list during the week is something I try to avoid but my purchases didn't cost very much so no guilt.

I've been reading in the evenings. I'm currently deep into The Mitfords: Letters Between Six Sisters. But as a little diversion I read The Velveteen Rabbit. I spotted it in the library and had always meant to read it. The illustrations are beautiful. Perhaps a future purchase for Joe.

In other news: I've been asked to be the official photographer at a wedding in August. I've photographed weddings for family before now, just casually-taken snaps. But this is my first 'proper' wedding. It actually sounds like it'll suit me just fine; the bride-to-be is a friend and she wants candid shots rather than posed ones. Better get practising!

The snow has all but gone now. We've been out looking for signs of the coming spring and they're there: buds, shoots. I picked a few snowdrops this afternoon. Ours actually grow in a raised bed behind the garden wall so you don't get to see them unless you're putting the rubbish out. They're fascinating things; they were tightly closed but within minutes of being indoors opened fully. The tiniest jar I could find had lavender harvested from last summer in it, so that's now decanted into a little teacup. It smells gorgeous.

I'd just like to say I really enjoyed reading your comments on my last post. Seems we're all soup-lovers. And Heinz are responsible for a lot of childhood memories!

Food memories: soup

To me, the prospect of soup for lunch or dinner always means a little twinge of disappointment. I think it's because the idea of something watery from a can always suggests you'll be hungry again before too long; that there will be nothing exciting in terms of texture or flavour. Vegetables diced into tiny cubes. Flakes of chicken that could almost be mistaken for tinned tuna.

As a child we always had Heinz Cream of Celery when we were unwell. I dutifully ate it. I wasn't keen.

But then when I really think about soup - the proper, home made kind - it brings back many memories. Particularly those soups my grandma used to make for us when we visited. She'd take an age to come to the door, then disappear again in search of her keys, then unlock and unbolt and finally let us in. We'd be met by the smell of dill, soured cream, meat, sauerkraut. There was always soup of some kind bubbling away in the kitchen. I'd be dispatched to the dining table with a bowl of something steaming, hearty and fragrant in a dish of thin porcelain. A slice or two of Polish rye bread spread with unsalted butter. A battered soup spoon.

I made beetroot soup the other day. There's never any point trying to go for an exact replica of my grandma's cooking. It was always a handful of this, a sprinkle of that. But I do know she used a base of onions, fried in butter until almost black, and grated fresh beetroot (I steamed mine first). Chicken stock. Dill. And a final stirring-in of soured cream which turned the soup from a deep, clear purple to a rich, opaque dark pink . It smelt fantastic. It tasted even better. And it transported me back to being seven years old, sitting at that table.

Many Polish soups I grew up eating sound a little odd to the uninitiated: cucumber (actually potato soup with very finely-sliced gherkin thrown in, and surprisingly delicate in flavour), cabbage (the slight sourness of sauerkraut, the little morsels of chopped garlic sausage), sorrel (from the garden - I love that lemony flavour again with big chunks of floury potato). 

You fry using butter and you always add scraps of leftover meat. More often than not it's pork or chicken. Nothing goes to waste. Even the clean bones used to be thrown onto the soil beneath the flowers. I have no idea why.

We'd always come away with a basket heavy with food. Empty jars were saved and filled with soup or bigos, a stew of cabbage and meat. In my family, you don't visit anyone and leave empty-handed. You're laden with those big jars, perhaps a box of brown eggs too. But always soup. Cooked slowly in a big pan so there's enough for another day and enough to give away.

I think it was my grandma's way of saying, 'I might be brusque and waspish but I love you in my own way. Now bugger off home and eat your soup.'

Midweek miscellany

You always know in this house when things are getting back on track: the kitchen becomes a place of (happy) industry once more. Pottering with food, plants - and (this makes me very happy) - hanging washing out on the line. 

On Sunday things started looking up. A new month, heralded by bright sunshine. I could quite literally feel the clouds lifting; so much so that I felt up to a walk into the village to make the most of the glorious February weather. So off we went. Still snow on the fields (and rather a lot in the churchyard, much to Joe's delight). Dazzling blue skies. Green shoots, buds.

After we came home I roasted chicken with potatoes, lemon and oregano. It was good.

As my appetite has returned I've felt the urge to get cooking again. And baking. Muffins in this case. It's interesting how, over these past few weeks, I lost my appetite for a while and as it's returned I don't really fancy certain things. Dairy in particular - milk, yogurt. Except butter. I'm a real butter girl. 

I was even off tea and coffee until yesterday. Luckily the Lancashire Tea's back in favour. There's only so much herbal stuff I can drink.

Anyway, muffins: This recipe. I've used it for years and for some reason always get the urge to bake these when I've been feeling unwell. They're really good for breakfast, work well with gluten free flour and you can modify them with whichever fruit or nuts you like (I do). They're also very good - ahem - buttered.

I took a trip to the local farm shop/garden centre the other day. It's ridiculously expensive but I needed lots of fresh beetroot. More on that later this week. I also picked up some huge brown eggs and a big bulb of garlic.

The plant section was pretty sparse, what with it only being early February, but I wanted to buy some pots for taking geranium cuttings. The compost and grit were eye-wateringly pricey too so I decided to take a little trip over the border to Yorkshire in a couple of weeks to my favourite garden centre. It's very big, very reasonable and the drive there is rather lovely.

Today Joe went to his Wednesday morning nursery. The walk there's a nice one: along a high road with moors on either side. Again, the sun was out but the air was face-smackingly sharp. Joe refused to wear his mittens. His hands were purple. I felt like a Bad Mother.

It wasn't much warmer in the church hall. And it was heaving with toddlers. It seems the childminders have discovered us. So our little group of regulars sat in a corner being all sniffy and complaining about the mayhem and bemoaning the loss of our quiet little mummy haven. The ladies who run the place were incredibly excited to suddenly have so many paying customers. And they're right I suppose.

Note to self: be more charitable.

I'd just like to say thank you all so much for your good wishes of late. I'm feeling so much better already and am looking forward to moving past those past few weeks and enjoying the coming spring. It is coming.

Oh, and the card holder in my previous post: I'm not the type to take credit for an idea that's not mine. I found it on Pinterest. But I'm glad you like it.