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Spread a little...

Isn't it amazing how far a little something can be spread? A smile is one of the quickest things to spread as it fills one face and is reflected in those around. Other things are less pleasing when shared around.   Take the other day, for instance, when OH offered to clean the kitchen floor whilst I was engaged in some writing. He did a great job as I knew he would and once everything was dry again he set about returning items to their usual space. And then it happened. A tiny bottle of J2O slipped from its moorings in an inadequate cardboard sleeve and plunged towards the tiles. A single sound and then a spreading pool of orange and pomegranate liquid began to spread slowly across the pristine floor. It was a shame it was my favourite flavour and the resulting slick looked quite unsavoury. In the centre stood a sculpture of glass so we set about collecting shards, mopping towards the centre in an effort to contain the problem.   Wet newspaper has always been my preferred method for picking up the finer shards of glass and OH went in search of a supply. As he reached the doorway there was an ominous crunch. Incredibly the shards had spread the length of the kitchen and nowhere was safe. It was then that he noted several slivers embedded in his slipper sole and we spent almost an hour clearing up the mess and then, just for the fun of it, OH washed the floor again.   Next morning walking on the kitchen floor was still a sticky experience so once more out came bucket and mop and finally we seem to have a clean and non-sticky floor once more.   I wonder, will he volunteer again?

Stir Up Sunday

No, this is not the day for being annoying or causing mischief, it is the traditional day for making the Christmas pudding to allow it time to mature in time for Christmas. However the name has nothing to do with Christmas preparations at all.   The Sunday before Advent was somewhat cumbersomely known as the twenty fifth Sunday after Trinity. In the Book of Common Prayer the collect for the day is Stir up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people; that they, plenteously bringing forth the fruit of good works, may of thee be plenteously rewarded; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. The opening words became a short reference to the day and soon became mixed in with the cooking aspect and most people who have heard of the name at all now associate it with Christmas puddings. A colleague I worked with made it the subject of his assembly every year for the appropriate week and so few children left our school unaware of the significance of the occasion but most used it as a signal to prompt their Mum's into getting the pudding made ( or to purchase one from the shop).   Now, I have all the ingredients to hand, it is pouring with rain and once I have edited the article I have been working on and emailed that maybe I could actually make my pudding on the traditional day for once. For years we made the cake and my parents the pudding so the pudding preparation has only in recent years fallen to my lot. The first year there was too much mixture for the basin and the second year the water seeped in but in the past couple of years I think we have cracked it. Halved the quantities for the pudding and used a steamer rather than placing the pudding in the pan of water.   Just got to get the roast sorted first though.

Mixed feelings

Yesterday our latest issue of Best of British magazine was delivered and one piece was very familiar.   Back in 2006, at the end of a story involving cycling, the editor requested other cycling stories. I had a piece written by my father describing the lengthy cycle rides involved in his courtship of my mother, travelling from where he worked to her home town each weekend. He had tried to have it published in magazines himself but had not been successful. I typed it up and sent it in, explaining it was the work of my late father. I received the standard reply that they would like to retain it for possible publication. At least this time it was not rejected outright.   Yesterday his dream came true as it made it into print and I have to admit to feeling quite emotional about it. My father had some work published in his local county magazine and lots of letters, too. In fact his success was one reason I decided to give it a go. I just know he would have been so pleased to see this particular story in print.

Sales success of a different sort

Still haven't visited the sales this year but they continue to make their mark on others. Family members have shared their successes in the field and I have had a success of a different kind. The current issue of Best of British uses a piece I submitted this time last year (when sales shopping was fresh in the mind) comparing the sales of my childhood with those of today. A long time to wait for publication? Not really and especially not in the history of this piece.   The writing on sales began with a listing session around six years ago. I was making a list of things that had changed since my childhood. (You don't need to be that old to try this as things change so rapidly now. Indeed when I worked in primary schools our leavers  wrote of their time in the school and often mentioned changes that had occured in that time.) Anyway, after listing twenty items I picked three to develop into lists of their own giving the bare bones of an article on each and then chose one to write up as a completed article.   The article was submitted to a magazine whose editor retained it for possible use and then sat on it for three years before sending it back. When B of B asked for personal stories of sales shoping I dug it out and rewrote it more to their style and sent it off. The editor asked to keep it for possible publication and I know from experience that this publication also returns some material after some time  so apart from being recorded as work sent out I forgot about it until the latest magazine turned up on Saturday. A good end to the year or an inspiration for the coming one? A bit of both I suppose. Maybe I should dig out some more of those lists.

Spring into summer

There was no way we were going to pass up the chance to go for a pootle yesterday with the first really warm and spring like day we have had. Aiming for a National Trust property that didn't open until 2 meant we had plenty of time to explore villages on the way and were delighted to find all the churches open. Found plenty of interest from decorative tiling to an intriguing gravestone and with walking around each village in search of other treasures as well we didn't arrive until 2 and still had our picnic to consume before we visited the house and grounds.   Eating a picnic out of doors rather than huddled in the car for the first time this year enabled us to watch the antics of a variety of bee species exploring the violets that abounded in the picnic area. The huge bumble bees weighed the delicate violets right down to the ground but they sprung up as soon as the bee moved on. We watched a tiny beetle climb right to the top of a blade of grass and then fly off. All these things that generally go on quite unnoticed.   The grounds of the house were a mass of daffodils, some as tall as the toddlers that wandered through them at snail pace despite the entreaties of their parents. It made a wonderful cheerful splash of colour and made you feel spring was really here at last. Before we headed home we went into the nearby village and down to the banks of the Thames where we watched a pair of swans enjoying a Jacuzzi thanks to the water rushing through the weir. Every now and then they stretched up to flap their wings and then settled back to put their feathers in place. Curtains of pale green willow hung down and diffused the bright sunlight and it all felt wonderful.   Returning to our car we were absolutely amazed to see not one but two swallows perched on the telephone cables. Not having a telephoto lens I hesitated to even attempt a photo but did manage to get a distant shot just to prove what we saw. Looking back at our records for last year it was another two weeks before we saw swallows in our own village only about thirty miles away. So one swallow may not make a summer but how about two?   Calling in at the shops on our way home I checked some magazines I had recently submitted letters to - something I do whenever I have had a week with no submissions at all - and was delighted to see one of my letters in TV Times. It was even better to receive a message from Susan later that evening letting me know about the letter in case I had missed it. What a great ending to a really special day.   Today has been just as sunny but other things have occupied out time although we did get out for a short walk and found plenty more flowers to photograph and I also got some shots of various trees in flower.

Autumn shades

It's been a mixed bag of weather this week but Monday was one of those bright sunny days with no wind and we opted to make further use of our annual pass to Blenheim Palace and take a walk around the grounds. This was a regular walk for us in the past as the local school supported a sponsored walk in aid of the Sightsavers appeal and we were able to use the school minibus to take children who wanted to take part but had no transport. A circuit of the grounds on the route we used was about four and a quarter miles and many of the children completed more than one circuit raising quite appreciable funds for the charity. That was held a couple of weeks before Easter each year and apart from attending a couple of the Horse Trials in recent years we had not walked the grounds for over ten years and never this late in the year.   My aim was to take pictures of the autumn colours and we were not disappointed. The beech trees in particular were in a jewel-like array and several other species had at least started to turn following some frost at the end of last week. One of the saddest sights was to see all the Horse Chestnut trees completely denuded due to attacks by the leaf-mining moth grubs. These turn the leaves brown early as they are eating them from the inside. Over the past couple of years most horse chestnuts locally seem to have succumbed. They leaf as usual in spring and we are able to enjoy the sight on the lovely "candles" of flowers and then around June they begin to show splodgy leaves and by September we have an early leaf fall and far fewer conkers than of old. This problem seems to be spreading countrywide now and there is a link from the Autumnwatch site of the BBC programme allowing you to report sightings and help them map the progress of the disease.   Strangely we didn't see much in the way of fungi but there were plenty of pheasants out enjoying the sunshine and feasting on the seeds and corn spread for them.   The sun gave us some spectacular moments. There were some aspen trees with their quivering leaves turned a buttery yellow and they were catching the sun as though gilded. Unfortunately, the still camera could not capture the effects of the moving image so well. At one spot we stood watching a sheep dog rounding up a small flock and the sunlight was just highlighting their silhouettes and I took some pictures, pleased when the dog started to urge them in our direction. At this time we were on a narrow bridge and fortunately we realised in time where they were heading and made our way to the side just as the sheep clattered past. The sheepdog did make an attempt to include us in his flock but moved on as the sheep disappeared over the hump of the bridge.   All in all it was a magical afternoon and we felt all the better for being out of doors enjoying it. Pleased to discover I can still cover the distance and still be able to move afterwards, too.

Apple Day

This week sees the 21st celebration of Apple Day on 21st October. Originally aimed at drawing attention to our dwindling apple varieties it has become a fun event for all the family at many venues across the country. The celebrations have spread beyond the day itself and you may well find events in your area from mid September until the end of October.   We generally try to get to at least one event, either locally or on a break elsewhere, each year and this year we chose to visit Waddesdon Manor, a National Trust house in Buckinghamshire. There were numerous stalls offering pies, cakes and even sausages made with apples. There was apple pressing for juice and cider and apple juices for sale along with a whole array of wines made from fruit and vegetables. These reminded me of wines made by my parents using dandelion flowers - it was back breaking picking the heads, enough to fill two buckets - parsnips and rhubarb. I recall the parsnip wine exploding one year and it was always described as enough to blow your head off so I wasn't surprised to find many of the wines rated as 14.5% alcohol.   The central attraction was, of course, the display of apple varieties. There were pears, quinces, tomatoes and a host of pumpkins, squashes and gourds as well but the apples were centre stage. Each variety was labelled identifying the first record of the variety, the best time to use the apples and whether they were cookers, dessert or dual-purpose apples. There were some magnificent specimens that would make an apple pie with a single fruit whilst others would be instantly rejected by those used to perfectly shaped and smooth apples despite the fact they were absolutely fine to eat with far more flavour than many popular varieties. There were people on hand to help identify and fruits you may have in a garden providing you could supply a few examples including the leaves for them to examine. Great for those who have inherited fruit trees with property and the organisers always hope to find a new or rather long-lost variety.   This particular event did not include games and activities but many have longest peel contests, games of bobbing for apples such as we did at Hallowe'en before the days of trick or treat and cookery demonstrations. Each Apple Day event is different. A number these days are organised by National Trust properties but garden centres, farms and community orchards are amongst those setting up events. It may not be too late for visiting an Apple Day this year. Just Google Apple Day for a list of events by county. If not, make a note in your diary for 2011.

Domesday - 925 years on

Domesday - 925 years on   I have just spent some time looking up various places on the BBC Domesday Reloaded site (<a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/domesday">http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/domesday</a>) and quite fascinating it has been, too. Back in 1986 there was a project aiming to make a modern Domesday survey 900 years after the original ordered by William the Conqueror. The country was divided into squares and photos could be submitted and short pieces of writing about things local communities thought would interest people in the future. Much of the writing was done by primary aged children in local schools and the one where I was teaching was involved.   It is disappointing to find that only photos appear for the area covered by our school. I know there were some problems with producing the final Survey which was to be stored on two huge disks. I believe the technology did not really take off and it is only recently that the results have been available on-line. At the time our villages were threatened by the extension to the M40 from Oxford to Birmingham and in fact the route was changed somewhat after the Survey was completed but here you can read some of the concerns of those living in its path. A similar situation is currently going on not so far away as the route for High Speed train is debated.   I have already found accounts of major cattle markets no longer trading, companies that have amalgamated or lost altogether and events that no longer take place. Considering the time scale this is quite revealing. Well worth checking out for places you know and maybe even a resource tool to consider.

It's all in the detail

Visiting Reading recently, a town we know have known for many years, I finally remembered to pop a camera in my pocket with the aim of photographing a couple of details we had noted before. I always mean to take a camera as you never know what you may see and so often the unexpected happens when you are unprepared. The shopping area was surprisingly quiet, especially as it was a sunny day, but it did make it easier to take shots almost as soon as we spotted opportunities. (Even so, we still had people ducking down in an exaggerated manner as they walked past despite the camera being aimed way above their heads!)   With old themes I like adding to the photographic collection to widen the possible outlets for articles, especially local titles. Besides topics I have researched and written about for some time, I'm always on the lookout for new themes to follow up. In recent years I have added inn signs to the list. Pubs and inns are closing at an alarming rate and generally the signs are removed when they close. These pieces of street art have long helped add character to towns and villages but many of the pubs owned by the big breweries are losing their artistic signs in favour of bland text-only boards. I suppose this is meant to make them seem more up-market but they don't have the same impact. Only slightly less exciting are the screen printed Red Lions and other popular titles that appear outside many hostelries. So, if nothing else, do record the signs adorning your local before the art form disappears completely.   One thing Reading has in abundance is buildings of the Victorian era adorned with decorative terracotta plaques and swags and swirls. It was the number of these that had prompted me to take the camera. Besides many I recalled we found a number of others, some thanks to passers by realising what the camera was trained on and adding their own suggestions. (I've mentioned before that it pays to talk - and listen.) When examined in detail, of course, it is easy to see that many of these decorative pieces are not manufactured in one piece but are made up of many moulded sections, fitted together like a jigsaw. One benefit of using a camera with a zoom lens is being able to examine these decorations in more detail and the skill involved in creating these items that are purely decorative can be appreciated better, too.   We ended our day down by the Thames at Caversham where we were entertained by swans, ducks, geese and pigeons, all looking especially fine in the late afternoon sun that brought out all the colours in their plumage. Whoever said that British Birds were dull?

Out and about

This year Hatfield House in Hertfordshire celebrates its four hundredth anniversary. Not that we were aware of this when we planned our recent visit but it did mean we saw the exhibition of Henry Moore sculptures that have been brought in for this year. Seeing them in a garden setting seemed more in keeping than in an indoor exhibition. The house is the star, of course, and with the Great Hall being almost the first room you encounter you might expect the rest to disappoint but we met so many informative guides, willing to chat and impart the little details that make the place come alive, that we found it a delight from the formal rooms right down to the basement kitchens and domestic quarters. In the kitchens we saw sample menus and admired a display of thirty odd copper kettles which we learned were used by maids to take water to the upper floors for baths. No doubt many repeat trips were necessary and the baths lukewarm on really cold days as a result. We didn't have time to explore the park on this occasion but the gardens were a pleasant place to stroll and enjoy the sunshine. We were able to view the new sundial in the Sundial garden (only formally unveiled on Thursday - and enjoy displays of herbaceous plants and herbs, water features and knot gardens before wandering out into the "Wilderness" where the majority of the sculptures were displayed. However, as is my wont, it was the details that really took my eye. . We found many examples of green men masks, both indoors and out and from different eras. Symbolism was very important to people in Tudor times and once these had been pointed out in one painting we looked for the tiny details in others. The building that Elizabeth I would have known is the Old Palace, only one range of which remains, the other three sides of the courtyard being demolished to build the new house. Re-using the bricks of course - recycling is nothing new. Close inspection shows the bricks are laid differently to a modern wall. One row shows the long side of the brick much as we lay them today but the row above shows the small end of the brick with the bulk going back into the wall. Known as English bond, this is apparently the strongest way for a laying bricks for a single wall. Our staggered brick patterns are more recent being used for double walls. Our first visit to this particular house but hopefully not our last.

Local Knowledge

On a recent visit to Upton House, a National Trust property near Banbury, we took time out to pootle through a few of the surrounding villages in search of items of interest and once again encountered the kindness of strangers when you take the time to listen. The sight of someone taking photographs not only sparks curiosity but also the desire to impart local knowledge we find.   In one village I was taking a photo of their Roll of Honour for the First World War. This was in addition to a nearby War Memorial honouring the fallen as it listed all who had served in 1914-1919. A local resident pointed out the difference between the two monuments, which we had already noted, and also told us about the memorials in the church. A book has been created giving photographs and backgrounds to almost all those mentioned on the Roll of Honour, a wonderful resource for those seeking to track down relatives who may have lived there as well as serving as a fitting tribute to their service.   A little further up the road a cattle trough with a Biblical reference above caught our eye and another resident pointed out that the street was named for the part it had played in the Civil War. The horses were mounted here before the Battle of Edgehill which took place nearby. Whilst we may have stumbled upon the records in the church it is unlikely we would have learned this second piece of local history without talking to people. Often it is little snippets like that which spark off an idea for an article. Spending time to really look around and carrying a camera often pays dividends.

Taking shots

A recent TV report showed a chap who had been stopped by police for taking a photograph of a Police Station. Apparently he has an American friend interested in police memorabilia and he took the photo for him. Just the one shot, nothing more.   Taking photographs has never been easier now that we have idiot-proof digital cameras that allow almost unlimited images to be taken and stored and shared. However, in many other ways things have never been harder. We have to be sure not to include children in shots. If people are included in pictures we may want to use to illustrate articles some magazines require proof that they have all given consent yet at the same time their guidelines often stipulate the need for scenes to include the human element. Maybe they would be happy with shadows. I tend to opt for back views where possible with people walking away from the camera.   Looking back at some shots I have taken of traditional shop fronts, for example, I discover several are of old jeweller's shops and include customers entering or maybe gazing into the windows. If stopped would I have to prove I wasn't planning something more sinister perhaps. For a long time the National Trust haven't allowed internal photography in their properties. This arose from a massive burglary that took place locally and it was thought photographs taken during visits may have helped the criminals to set things up. Now many other places open to view have adopted the same policy although they do not always make it that clear and I have been caught out a couple of times and have been happy to delete the shots. Visiting the Shakespeare Houses earlier this year, however, people were blatantly ignoring the signs in every room - pictorial signs so no excuse for not being able to read them.   In the past the biggest hazard to taking photographs has been the reaction of people passing by (or worse, driving by) who seem intent on discovering what I have found to photograph. As this could be anything from a plaque on a wall, a milestone or even detail of tiling most look totally mystified. Others walk elaborately around even when the camera is pointed well above their head or rush past bent double to avoid being included in the shots. Of course there are always the ones who offer to pose and seem quite disappointed when they discover my interest is in inanimate objects on the whole.   Do others find photography more or less challenging in the current climate I wonder?

Another warning shot across the bow

Following on from my earlier post on the restrictions being placed on people with regard to taking photographs I see in today's paper another example. This time a man was stopped by police whilst taking a photograph of a cathedral. The story is covered in an editorial and Sue's points regarding taking photographs in public places was raised.   Please to say our daughter managed to take some lovely shots at a local Christmas event yesterday. If they don't feature her own children the shots are suitably fuzzy so no problems there.   I really think this issue, like political correctness, has begun to seem more like paranoia than common sense.

It's good to talk

I forget who used this phrase in a BT ad - I've a feeling it was Bob Hoskins - but it makes a good mantra for writers, too.   Visiting National Trust properties I often think how boring it must be for some of the room stewards as people hurry through with barely a glance. Many seem to actively avoid these volunteers but we have found it adds to the experience to ask questions and we have often gleaned some little gems as a result. We started doing this when the children were quite young as we found if we could interest them in a detail it generally afforded us a little time to absorb the atmosphere too. Sometimes the stewards would demonstrate something for them or tell them a story behind an object. We have continued to show an active interest and our visit at the weekend was a case in point.   In one room another couple were trying to take evasive action but the room steward stood between them and escape and pointed to some lamps in the shape of figures. They were he informed us, made from dolls used by Chinese women when visiting a doctor to show the area of pain as a physical examination was not deemed appropriate. Although already aware of such dolls we had not realised these were examples. The other couple said their son worked as a doctor and used a similar method with young children having dolls on which the children could write or draw to show where the pain was. A little gem gleaned and we, like them were about to drift on when the steward pointed out a wardrobe. "It's French," he told us. In France when a girl child was born an oak was felled for just this item and was gifted to the child when they married or at age 21, whichever came soonest. He then revealed that telling this story to some French visitors earlier in the year they were able to examine the wardrobe and tell which region it came from as each had their own pattern or motif. As the NT were unaware of this his willingness to talk had gleaned new knowledge and he was keen to pass it on.   As more and more people drifted through the room it became clear that many were not getting their full value in their visit. Over this past year alone we have heard many stories, been shown numerous artefacts and been privy to scandals that do not make the guide books. This has not just been at NT properties but anywhere we have been visiting and taking photographs. Most people are only too pleased to talk about where they live, to share a story or point out a detail you may have missed.

Snowed under

Woke yesterday to 9 inches of snow, an amount not common in Oxfordshire. Living in a village we have no hope of getting out to shops and have had no deliveries of mail etc. In fact everything is eerily quiet and peaceful. The local school is closed but the children seem to be staying indoors apart from a few using sledges to make the road treacherous! Fortunately we took the forecasters seriously when they said we would have heavy snow and stocked up so should be fine until Monday when milk may become a problem.   Ideal circumstances for writing so long as I can keep my hands warm. On Monday I decided to email a few ideas to a magazine. I was going to query a couple of other items with magazines but I am glad I didn't as I received a reply almost by return asking for one of the ideas to be expanded and sent in. They are running a feature and this would complement their piece. There is only one snag. They want photographs. OK, I have those, old black and white numbers as this is a nostalgia piece. Scanner won't work with current computer. No problem, they can be posted. Ah, but there's the rub. No postal collections either. So now I have to hope we can get to a post office by early next week at latest or it may all be in vain. And there was me thinking, "We won't be bothered by the weather. We can just stay indoors." Not too hopeful at present.

Every cloud..

..has a silver lining. The weather this past week has been unusual to say the least and the effects on everyday life throughout the country have gone a long way to explaining our obsession with the topic. However, in many ways there have been silver linings. As we did not have to get out, being retired, we decided to make the most of time to do things indoors. Sitting around means you just get cold so whilst meals cooked in the oven we started to clear out kitchen cupboards making good use of the extra heat offered. This recalled childhood winters where my mother spent as much time as possible in the kitchen in winter. Our water was heated from an Ideal boiler which had to be kept lit summer and winter.( A blessing in winter but a nightmare in summer when the sun beat down on the kitchen windows to add to the desert effect.) One task my mother always tackled in January was clearing out the kitchen cupboards. As a result we often had some unusual meals as she discovered forgotten ingredients and improvised to use them up. It was only recently I realised that I had carried on this tradition and my children somewhat dreaded what might be discovered. I used to place all discovered items in a box on the worktop and make a point of using at least one in each day's menu in order to use items up. In my own case this was as much a matter of early spring cleaning as a dislike of waste but it was only when my own children expressed their dislike of this practice that my mother revealed the real reason for her urge to get ahead in the spring cleaning stakes. My father had his December salary paid before Christmas "to help people cope with the expense of Christmas." This had the unfortunate effect of being more month than money for many in January and my mother devised her way of coping by making her improvised meals from whatever the cupboard revealed.   Another silver lining of the weather from my perspective has been the extra time I have felt able to give to writing. I managed to finish the article requested at the beginning of last week by Friday. Today a neighbour took it with her to post when she returned to work so the pictures should reach them along with the text in the next few days. I emailed to tell them it was on its way, offering to email them a copy of the text and they seem happy with what they have received there so hopefully it will get into print. If nothing else, it will show that I can produce things in a short time span and make every endeavour to get material submitted. Now all I have to do is to keep up the momentum, both in the writing and in the early spring cleaning, and the year won't have had such a bad start after all.

February already

I find it hard to believe it is February already. Have I really achieved much in a whole month? Much of the time seems to have been spent keeping warm and trying to avoid the need to go out at all. Not that we could for several days in the snow as they just didn't bother clearing minor roads at all.   By rights I should have managed lots of writing, therefore. In fact I have written and submitted two articles which is probably rather quicker than my normal rate of progress. The first was one I was asked to write following emailing some suggestions to an editor. The other resulted I suppose in part from our enforced hibernation. Sorting through some boxes I came across a few items that had been stored away. I knew that they existed and I had already had an idea for writing about them but until the booklets and pictures actually turned up there was no incentive to do so. Having located the elusive material last Monday I spent much of Tuesday on a first draft, editing a bit each day until Friday when I submitted the article. Maybe I should do some more sorting to see if I gain any more inspiration!

How is your Christmas writing coming along?

Over the past few weeks I have been gradually thinning out the stacks and boxes of magazines we have accumulated and kept "just in case." Even magazines from three or four years ago can look dated when you look at them and whilst I may be depriving future generations of copy for articles on magazines from the past - and I have had this experience myself using magazines saved for recipes or knitting patterns within the family and giving a snapshot of life of the times - we really need the space on the shelves.   In the past weeks I have moved on from magazines from our teaching days to some writing magazines from more than ten years ago. Surprisingly they do contain the odd nugget worth hanging onto but many of the markets they describe have long gone. Today, however, I came across a feature on writing for the Christmas magazines, either the December editions of regular magazines or their Christmas specials. When interviewed most editors were asking for material to be sent in by June or July at the very latest. Many monthly titles put together the bulk of their Christmas material in August.   It may be that this is slightly out of date now in the sense that publishing has changed and typesetting is not now an issue but broadly speaking it is not such a bad idea for any seasonal material to be written and even submitted during the season itself albeit a  twelvemonth from possible publication. I made notes for several articles during last Christmas but had not considered writing them up as yet but maybe I will. Many editors said it was a case of the early bird catching the worm if someone came up with a good idea however prematurely it may have been submitted.   I also think this is still current practice. At the end of October I had an idea for a tip which I felt could be used when creating Christmas decorations or for crafting generally. Two magazines rejected it, one with the comment: "Unfortunately your tip came too late to be considered for our Christmas issues. Due to printing schedules, if you wish to submit the item for Christmas 2010, we need to receive it by mid-August 2009." Whilst I think the 2009 was a mistake on their part it does show that anything with a seasonal slant, whether it is fact or fiction or even a reader's letter or tip, needs to be sent in sooner rather than later. So, how is your Christmas writing coming along?

Writing for the Impossible Market

Although I orginally started out writing about my photographs I soon found I enjoyed other sorts of writing too although all of it was safely within my own experience zone. Then I read an article suggesting you needed to challenge yourself occasionally if only to keep the writing muscle truly active and not on auto-pilot. The article ended with an exercise to plan and execute an article for a market you didn't think you could write for.   The first piece I wrote was for a Cat magazine. We don't have a cat. I have never owned a cat. We had however been adopted by the cat from the farm next door. Apparently whilst the house was being built he regularly patrolled the premises and just because we had moved in he saw no reason to stop. He even brought us gifts - small voles mainly but on one occasion a nice fat rat. When neighbours moved in to the other houses he kept all other cats at bay, showing them swiftly he was boss cat and it was a tale of this cat that caught the editor's eye and achieved publication.   In the interests of fairness I did the same with a tale of a dog for a monthly Dog title and then I suppose I felt I had completed that challenge. I continued to increase the range of titles I submitted to from county magazines to nostalgia, lifestyle and specialist titles but always within the comfort zone of what I am familiar with. I may research details or background to topics but I generally have a good basis to work from.   Now I think it is time to challenge myself again. Already this year I have doubled the output per month from the last two years and the list of ideas I have waiting to be written up is expanding fast so now I think I need to think about trying an unknown market again, just to see if I can crack it. All I have to decide is - which one.

Competitions

I suppose if there was anything I should write about as being what I know about it would be entering competitions. I know many people here enter writing competitions but here I am referring to consumer competitions, the ones that in the past generally required a slogan.   It's over forty years ago since OH and I became engaged and frightened ourselves with the list of items we felt we needed to set up home. If you are ever going to get married you'll have to start winning some of them was my mother's advice. We did and we were hooked.   So what has this to do with writing? As mentioned earlier competitions in the past largely required you to do research and often create a slogan or do some form of writing. As practice for writing concisely it was excellent  and although we never won any major items like foreign holidays, cars or even houses that were on offer we won enough to keep us enthused and indeed won some wonderful experiences that money alone could not buy. We met people, attended events and gained a whole load of household and other goods just for entering. Certainly from a writing point of view it was as helpful as writing readers' letters for honing writing skills.   Later I gave talks at local groups and then began writing articles for competition magazines. Now I have mentioned before that a fair proportion of magazines I have written for have subsequently folded and this happened to a succession of comping magazines and to the best of my knowledge there are none now around that accept writing on this topic so I am having to think a little more laterally trying to find an outlet for an article on the subject now. Even so, planning the talks and writing those articles were great for getting me to write about what I know and to research things in greater detail.   Today many competitions are run or entered online and even by text and those involving writing of any description are becoming rarer. Of course, as many people want something for little effort those competitions that do require a statement to be completed or a short piece of writing do have fewer entrants making them just the sort of competition to aim for. Local competitions likewise get fewer entries so it is perhaps unsurprising that one of our best wins came from writing fifty words for a local newspaper competition. On the other hand a couple of years back we won a large value of vouchers simply for filling in name and email on an entry form so luck plays more part than skill these days in many contests.   I have not entered a great number of purely writing competitions although I have had some small successes in them including one on Writelink but it is as an opportunity to plan and produce an article that this hobby has contributed most.

Another unlikely poetry spot

A day out looking at steam trains seemed an unlikely opportunity for anything of literary interest yet once again we were to be surprised. A section of track at Didcot is of the Broad Gauge favoured by Brunel and we were surprised to discover this alternative size wasn't finally discontinued until 1891. Amongst the items on display related to this rail type was a poem, Broad-gauge Farewell, written by Horatio F Brown to mark its demise. Poetry was clearly being used to mark events in Victorian times.   Another area of research also had a boost when I found a number of menus associated with railway dining at different times. (Menus and descriptions of feasts and festivities generally have been a recent interest.) Although most of our time was spent "admiring" the engineering and marvelling at the size and scale of these steaming monsters with the grandchildren (and enjoying endless rides up and down the track it must be said - had to get a sit down somehow) it was good to look at things from a more artistic and literary point of view.

New year Challenges - take three times a year

After a few days away it is time to knuckle down once more. All this talk of resolutions made me feel quite guilty that to date all I have achieved writing-wise this year is setting up new files for writing submitted and so on so that I keep track of what is where.   I have always considered it odd that we make resolutions at the start of a new year when we in the northern hemisphere are experiencing the worst of our weather. If things are anything like last year simply keeping going is a challenge in itself. After a lifetime at school and in teaching for me the start of the year tends to be September and I can recommend making challenges to yourself after a treat such as a holiday or other special occasion. For others, including the Tax Man, the year starts in April so there is a good case for beginning your writing year then as it helps keep track of any income in that way.   Rather than make resolutions I prefer the idea of goals or challenges to myself – writing for a new market, say, or submitting x number of items per week, month, year depending on what is being prepared. I have tried a twelve month diary but tend to get lost around the fourth month and feel I have achieved nothing so maybe there is a solution. Why not have three “New Year” challenges – one in January, one in May and one in September? Always easier to digest things in smaller chunks and less likely to lose heart.   Away from writing I aim to use the same technique. I once read that a favourite maxim of the Queen Mother was that things should be put away and not simply put down. As one who constantly loses vital pieces of information and spends much time looking for said items this would seem ideal – but I don’t do ideal. Instead I am trying the theory that things will gradually get decluttered if you keep putting five things in the right place – be it in a file, a cupboard or the bin if appropriate. Five things up or down stairs save special journeys and five pieces of paper filed are less likely to be lost. I’ll let you know how I get on. Meanwhile, a belated Happy New Year to all Writelinkers.

Targeting writing

Generally I follow the accepted form and target articles to specific magazines. Even if I find a topic I think worth writing about I usually consider where to send it before writing anything down. However, a couple of pieces I have aired in the Arena recently were developed from some writing exercises I did last winter when the weather made getting out and about problematical. I simply selected an object or photograph and aimed to write something inspired by it. Some items came out as nostalgia pieces and others as observations on life or viewpoints and a couple have already found homes despite not being targeted writing as such.   With the pieces I placed in the Arena I was less certain where they might be placed and I was delighted when many people not only commented but also made suggestions for magazines to try. Firstly, I should like to thank those who pointed out typos and other errors as I was sure I had finely edited the work. Just shows how close you get to work and how easy it is to read what you expect to see. I was also delighted at the range of magazines mentioned as this suggests maybe there is a much larger pool of titles to which I might submit. Mindful that Arena items are removed after ten days I make a note of comments and recommendations before they disappeared.   Finally I should especially like to thank those who took time to read and comment on the work despite, as they admitted, not normally reading non-fiction. I have mentioned before that I do read a lot of items on the Arena but feel uneasy about commenting on poetry or fiction as this is not an area I feel confident about, not writing much in these forms myself. On the other hand we are all readers and in the wider world many people make a living from commenting on films, books, TV and so on yet never write anything themselves so I will make greater efforts to return the compliment and try to give constructive comments on writing in other formats, too.   Meantime, a group of short pieces should be ready for submission by the end of the week and amongst them will be one of the items I offered for discussion. I'll let you know how they get on. Thanks to those who commented in the Arena I already have alternatives to submit to if my chosen title is not interested.

Industrial inspiration

Many of my photo collection would not receive beauty awards. They include litter-strewn countryside and the aftermath of sporting events. The pictures may one day be included with articles or opinion pieces. Photos of amusing signs may be sent to magazines for letters page entries whilst old signs collected together could illustrate an article on language, historic references or a host of other themes.   Another group includes industrial sites and scenes. These may be of details, others of scenes but for many the work place is not a subject for photography. Certainly many would not consider them inspiration for poetry or a story. How about the above examples. Do you find them more or less inspiring than the country scene from the beginning of the month?

Glass half full - or half empty?

We seem to be having an organised week. This happens from time to time. Appointments arranged by others come together and in between we fit such joys as the annual boiler service and so on. As we also try to match other tasks to essential shopping trips to cut down on journeys this week would seem the ideal one for writing, one hour appointments (at home) on two days and a shopping trip. However, the opposite has been true to date.   I find it difficult to concentrate on writing knowing I may be interrupted by someone coming to the door or needing to know where they can find some switch or other. “Appointment” is a loose term. Most only specify morning or afternoon at best. It must be even more of a nightmare for those who have to take time off work for such events.   Shopping trips, even with a list, still take at least an hour including time to reach the shops and park and when adding in a trip to dump items at the council tip and a visit to the post office to post a parcel, with the inevitable queues now even longer as the smaller rural post offices have closed, almost the whole morning is taken up.   These distractions aside, however, it was probably the return of a short story that had been with an editor for over four months that tipped the balance and switched me off. After such a time I had begun to hope that no news was good news but it was not to be. However, looking again at the email it said, “This story is not for us” and “please consider sending more for us to read.” Now I may be being overly optimistic but that is not saying the story isn’t good, simply it doesn’t fit the market. It is not saying to give up but to send something different. So now to make a start on a new story and when I need a break from that I’ll look at finding a new home for the original one. Meantime, I must add My Weekly to the shopping list as I believe I have a captioned photo in there this week if I recall the email I was sent correctly.

On your doorstep

"So, have you photographed the one in town?" "Er, no," I had to confess. A few years back I sent a letter to our local paper asking for readers to get in touch if they could help with some research. The result was a call from the editor and, although I didn't get any help with the research, he did run a piece about the things I was photographing at the time and I did get some contacts from readers. However, he made a very good point; we often visit places when on holiday but overlook what is on our doorstep.   In the past couple of years, with more time on our hands now in theory, we have tried to redress the balance and visited towns and villages around on a regular basis. Even so there is still plenty to see and do. Last week we set out to cross a few more possibilities off our list. Our first visit was to the gardens at Rousham House. Within ten miles this should have been visited many times over as we love gardens. One drawback in our early days in the area was the fact that children under fifteen are not admitted. I suspect the long stretch of the River Cherwell flowing through the landscaped grounds have dictated this as much as anything.   There is a walled garden area with herbaceous borders and fruit trees, a kitchen garden and acres of parkland landscaped by William Kent. In fact it is acknowledged as one of his masterpieces. We spent several hours in the sunshine wandering the paths, smelling the peonies and roses and simply enjoying the peace as I believe there were only half a dozen others there at the time. It was if it all belonged to us and I suppose for while, in a sense, it did. One delight was to find the dove cote, or pigeon house as it was listed, occupied with nesting pigeons, just as it would have been centuries ago.   On another day we went slightly further afield and ended up at the village of Filkins where the Cotswold Woollen Weavers (www.naturalbest.co.uk) is a working woollen mill. In addition to a shop and cafe there is also a museum of artefacts in any way vaguely related to wool and its products. There are old looms, bobbins, shepherds tools and so on but also pattern books, adverts and a whole range of paraphernalia so that at every turn you came across something different. All this is mixed in with items for sale and even the offices where people are carrying on the business. You are free to explore and we spent  well over an hour there. One case contained medals, postcards and even stamps depicting sheep whilst other displays included bills and polite reminders for overdue accounts. Whatever you enjoy writing, fact, fiction or poetry, I am sure there would be something to stimulate the imagination.   We have come across a number of these small collections run by enthusiasts and often free to explore. Well worth looking out for such opportunities and remember, don't overlook what is right there under your nose.

Breaking the deadlock

Life has rather got in the way of writing of late but a few weeks ago I came across a small writing competition that closed at midnight. It was already ten at night. However, it sparked a memory and I duly wrote it down, discovered it was a hundred words too long so edited it to fit and sent it off. It felt good to have completed and submitted something at least.   I was delighted to find I was actually short-listed although I didn’t win a prize. However, just making that submission seems to have broken the deadlock and I have another item ready to launch into the world. Maybe something else learned, too. Maybe I don’t need to get revising and editing work time and time again. Perhaps first thoughts maybe the best and just tightening up the writing with an edit after a break is all that is needed. On the other hand, perhaps I simply need a deadline to work to!

Haunted gardens

One of the delights of the longer opening season for National Trust properties in recent years has been exploring the gardens in the late autumn and winter. Several properties have planted Winter Gardens to have particular appeal at this time with colourful barks and stunning seed heads being popular and things you could easily incorporate into your own garden. However, this is a body devoted to preserving and conserving and all stoneware pots and statuary are sheathed in white sheeting to protect them from frost. Viewed at dusk or later this adds a ghostly quality to the gardens. What may have been a very detailed statue becomes and anonymous, shapeless form, and I can't help feeling there must be a story to be written somewhere. Probably a ghost story or maybe a murder mystery. On our recent visit to Waddesdon I took some photos of statues I had previously photographed in all their splendour. Sadly I cannot locate these images at present so you will have to take my word for it that this shapeless form conceals Apollo. Elsewhere in the gardens are two ornamental ponds, each with elaborate figures of men and beasts all of which are shrouded from view at this time of year. The same story is repeated in the grounds of many stately homes so for inspiration why not look for one near you for a visit. You may be inspired to write.

Snapping Christmas

As the last minute panic kicks in I thought I'd take a break to offer the compliments of the season to all Writelinkers and all the best for 2012. It looks like being a bumper year for writing opportunities with the Diamond Jubilee and Olympics in the summer but for those of us wrong-footed by David's request for items for the Christmas Writelinkers mag now is the time to take the photos.   Unless you want N&D to suffer turkey at midsummer or be asked to create fake snow as TV productions need to do as they film in August, taking photos now will be a great aide memoir and maybe even be used to illustrate your work. Actually, if you leave writing about Christmas until August you are probably too late for 2012 and will have to look to the following year. Most magazines work well ahead for such events and I was once asked to resubmit a Christmas tip to a magazine in the following June as they had already planned their Christmas edition. This was in September. A tip, that is, not an article or story, so they really do plan well ahead. In fact, David's request in October was easier to respond to as at least there was some evidence around in the retail and events sectors to help create the mood.   So along with all those embarrassing family photos don't forget to record the tree, the decorations (in the home and out and about if possible) and anything else you think may act as a prompt or illustration. I started this year taking photos of making the cake and the pudding and I have tried to have the camera with me whenever out and about in case I come across anything. Last year I was really annoyed I had left the camera behind when we visited a town that had lovely ice sculptures of a snowman and a penguin. (Although used as part of the light's switch on the night before they were still looking good next day due to the extreme weather we had at the time.) I've even got the rest of the family on the look-out for suitable pics. A trip to the zoo earlier this week by a family member bagged a great shot of a reindeer!

Natural confusion

I suspect that we are not the only people to find our garden is reeling under yet another confusing bout of weather here in the UK. This time last year we struggled with low temperatures and snow and now we have just had the mildest period for ages and plants are springing into life. We have honesty in bloom, the nemesias that normally bloom most of the year but take time off from late November to early March are still going strong and our newly planted apple tree is in full leaf.   The apple tree was planted at the end of October. Supplied as a bare-rooted tree the instructions told us to prune anytime between November and February to achieve the style of tree required. As our garden is small we wanted to make this a cordon tree like the others we have but this tree immediately developed buds and is now really green. The instructions say not to prune whilst it is still active so I can see the shape being left as it is until next year at this rate. Meanwhile, when we do get a bad spell it will presumably lose its leaves and maybe suffer dire consequences to boot.   Some years we fail to have daffodils in bloom for March 1st, St David's Day, for OH but this year, if the trend continues, I can see them being almost over by that date. Reading diaries and books from earlier ages, however, shows this is nothing new. Francis Kilvert often commented on unusual weather in his diary from the Nineteenth centry and Gilbert White, the parson naturalist did the same. If nothing else, perhaps we should record these unusual events for future generations to look back on. I recall a member of a WI group I belonged to showing us a diary she had kept for well over half a century. Each day she just commented on the weather and which flowers were in bloom in the garden or round about. A farmer's wife, she often travelled around the district and just wrote down her thoughts. We tried to persuade her to get it published but I don't believe she ever did. I'd love to know what happened to this priceless archive. Today there are organisations that appeal for such material and there have been several such collections published over the years including the Diary of an Edwardian Lady which also made it to TV. Sometimes the difficulty is persuading people their contribution is of value - but then that is a problem for writers the world over.

Catch up

It's been a while since I have had much time for posting. Always seems to be something getting in the way and not always able to side-step the distractions.   Have been writing some articles, trying out a few more filler items and generally looking for new places to send writing. Each year I set out to find new people to approach - partly because I like to spread my wings a bit and partly because there are only so many pieces that a magazine will accept at a time. I also run out of items to submit for certain markets yet I can recycle work already published in a different format - letter from article or vice versa, story from funny photo and so on. I have just submitted an article on a theme I have often written on, village signs. This time I won't be paid but I have other ideas for the magazine and if they like what they get this time there is a better chance of being accepted for other topics. A couple of weeks ago I came across a website looking for short factual gardening pieces in exchange for vegetable seeds. Well, I would buy those anyway, so if I wrote for seeds it wouldn’t be unrewarded. I was even asked to select the seeds I would like.   Next task is to re-write an article I have submitted unsuccessfully. The article was fine, I was told,  but the magazine is not accepting new material at present and this is time sensitive so a quick jiggle to fit it more closely to another magazine's style and it can be sent back into cyberspace with the hopes of hitting the mark second time around. I can do another re-jig for a different market again and hopefully one (or even both) with prove acceptable.   Now I need to think what to do with these photos, just some of a group I took before the snow fell yesterday. On a trip out we came across these frozen scenes alongside a puddle on a country road. The water splashed up had frozen into magical scenes but elsewhere there was no sign of frost. The hedges were dull brown, the verges green and the road clear. We were not the only ones to stop to take photos. I was really thankful I have taken to always having a camera in my bag or pocket, even on a trip to the shops!

Serendipity Moments

So far this year I seem to have written about anniversaries and events. Each year I find my writing taking off in a different direction. Some years I have aimed to discover new markets, others to write new pieces for magazines where already published and sometimes I have just aimed to write on new subjects, often arising from chance discoveries when out and about – serendipity moments.   This year, looking over past work and through the photo collections I realised 2012 was not just the anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic or of the ill-fated Antarctic Expedition or even the Diamond Jubilee of the Queen. It marks the centenary of a rather poignant local memorial to some young airmen who died in military service. Seeking out the details of that story has been fascinating and I already have a couple of possible markets for an article.   Should I ignore the big topics that everyone else will be writing about? I thought so at first until I realised one collection of photos was about an earlier Diamond Jubilee, that of Queen Victoria. Maybe taking a slightly different topic would be the answer. So far I have submitted three different articles to national titles and one to a regional title with more under way. The editor of the regional title got straight back accepting the article. It seems the memorial I had chosen to write about was in their focus location for the May issue and its Jubilee connection linked it to the upcoming events. Now that is a serendipity moment too, simply sending the article at the right time to the right place. Do make the most of your serendipity moments. They help make up for those items that come back for recycling.

Write Advice

This morning, going through a paper file of my old writing, I came across a single sheet of notes. It took a while to place in context until I realised they related to a telephone “Life Coaching” session about ten years ago with the friend of a friend who wished to practice her skills. Although I had had lots of items published at the time I was still sending out an article and waiting with baited breath for a response, often a rejection. I was particularly annoyed at the time that photographs I had supplied were not always returned. Email submissions were not an option then on the whole and for images print or more often transparencies were preferred over digital images which were generally considered to lack the quality required for publishing.   On the “to do”list constructed with the life coach was to approach help pages in writing magazines or online. I sent a letter to a writing magazine and another to an online writing group. The response from the magazine was simply how foolish to send originals and not to do it again. Talk about stating the obvious. From the website I received the same message but it was tempered with further advice and suggestions to keep writing and sending out as it made the waiting less stressful. I started writing for county titles, researching topics until I had sufficient material to offer further items for national titles. I spread the range of writing and began to balance the research and writing time better. Research is a joy and kept throwing up new ideas, so many that I wasn’t writing any of them, but limiting time for research and writing more paid off. I can now list many publications where I have work published.   I have given up on the magazine. I found the same ideas constantly recycled. The website remains a favourite and I shall be forever indebted to the advice I received when I was feeling so negative about writing. The website was of course Writelink and Sue the one who took time to offer her advice. Here at least members are happy to share successes and advice, the former being just as important in encouraging others to have a go. I was going to discard the piece of paper in an effort to declutter but on second thoughts maybe I should frame it for when I need encouragement.

Will I ever get it right?

There seem to be two schools of thought when approaching new markets. Some suggest that, as they don't know your work, you submit complete articles whilst others say that sending query letters containing a few outline ideas is the best approach.   In the past three months I have been working on a number of pieces based around anniversaries falling this year and therefore time sensitive. Where I have been able to find submission guidelines I have adhered to them and as a result one magazine that asked for manuscripts has accepted an article and one that asked for queries has said no thanks. Fine. However, all other queries seem to have fallen on deaf ears with not a peep of a reply even after a tentative follow-up email once a couple of months had elapsed and with the anniversary date looming.   I have also noticed that magazines who do not offer payment are quick to reply and keep in touch. In one instance, as I had exhausted all other options I went ahead and have written the article anyway as it could lead to more items being accepted later but on the whole I try to steer clear of such choices.   Another experience new to me recently was to be sent an article that had been typeset for my approval. Often I don't even know an item is going to appear until I see a copy of the publication. With all these variations it is no wonder there seems no hard and fast rule for how to set about submitting work.

Nine lives

I once read that every article had many lives. Subjects could always be rewritten for a different market. This year one of the themes I enjoy photographing and researching had a natural connection with events so I decided to give the lives idea a go.   I started with national mags and general pieces but they didn't attract much attention - well a couple of rejections but nothing positive - so I moved on to regional mags, writing each piece to fit the style of local mags and of course using local examples. Although the bare bones are the same each has come out very different and it has been a good exercise in rewriting the same material and getting maximum use of research if nothing else. To date one acceptance and one editor "getting back" to me at some stage. Having tried all the regional titles in one area I approached the local newspaper. The editor was keen but doesn't pay. I thought about this and then in the end decided to send him the article anyway. After all, I had written it and there was no other obvious market, he is happy to mention my website and to ask readers to comment or send info and that could help with further research on the topic so potentially not a complete freebie.   The rejections have not been all negative either. One editor, who told me in January he was accepting no new material as he was inundated (I only sent the piece on spec then because it was topical and I thought it worth the risk), has asked to see an article on another topic I suggested with my submission. The other rejection was of the "not this time" variety. Maybe I'm being optimistic but he didn't say "never."   It has taken most of the past fortnight to write all the different versions but now I can move on to other pieces that are less topical and therefore less pressing - or maybe I need the deadline to work to if I want to be that productive!

Bridge that gap

Having spent the past few weeks working on a series of articles for different magazine but on a common theme I have come to a natural break and decided to fire off a few quick filler items that would make the work submitted list look better. I have an article I am rewriting that I intend sending off this week but thought a few letters or tips would get the writing muscle flexed. As I was packing up last night I sent off a letter to a magazine commenting on their latest issue. This morning I had a response to my email from the editor of a different magazine (but with a similar name). Yes, I had sent it to the wrong magazine. Ah well, it will be  while before I can send anything to the second magazine but at least the letter has now reached the right title as I had an acknowledgement. Wouldn't it be great if all magazines were to have auto-reply systems so that we would know our work had been received. On the other hand, if the second magazine had used auto-reply I might never have had my mistake pointed out.

Bird-brained? I don't think so.

We have had heavy falls of snow over the weekend, as bad as we had back in January, and it has severely curtailed activity as we can't get out of the village again. Sadly it meant we missed our annual Santa Steam Railway trip with the grnadchildren but at least they were able to attend. This morning OH topped up the bird feeders and was trying to think of a way to keep the starlings from eating all the meal worms before the robin and blue tits got a look in. I suggested maybe an upturned hanging basket would allow small birds in and out but foil the starlings. Well it did for about two hours. One in particular spent ages sitting and looking at the dish from all angles trying to find a way in. Having eventually forced his way in the top he had a good feed and then hopped out the side. As if he couldn't believe it he hopped back inside. Then another one came along and after a struggle joined him - through the top. Finally one of them tipped the tray over leaving meal worms that could be accessed from outside! It  was fascinating to watch them crack the problem even if it did mean the robin still missed out. The pictures were taken through the window so are not very sharp but give an idea of events.

When icicles hang by the wall

We shopped in a town twenty miles away yesterday as we had ordered our turkey from a local butcher - along with half the county it would seem as we queued out the door to collect our order. This was the first time we had been able to get out of the village since last Friday but the snow is gradually clearing. After days of snow and very low temperatures it was actually at zero yesterday and felt positively balmy. One of the most striking features was the huge icicles hanging from gutters and gracing many of the plants in glistening waterfalls of ice. These natural decorations outshone those provided by the council but of course they would not light up at night.   As beautiful as they looked their presence overhanging pavements and doorways could prove quite dangerous. We were reminded of a memorial found on the wall of a church tower in Devon. This marked the death of the Clerk’s son in 1776 who was struck by an icicle. Clearly accidents, even fatal ones, are possible even here. Fortunately such incidents are rare but it seems there is always a price to pay for the beauty of winter whether it be snow or ice. It makes a wonderland of the bleakest landscape and evens out the debris and rubbish created on industrial sites. A purity that belies the treachery beneath.   Wherever you are have a safe and happy Christmas and here's to a successful 2011.

It all counts

Like thousands of others around the country we have been counting the birds in our garden for RSPB annual garden bird count this weekend. This is something we have been involved in for many years and it serves to highlight the changes happening in the bird world locally as well as contributing to the national figures.   We feed the birds regularly and put out a variety of foods in different locations around our small patch hoping to cater for as many species as possible. During the course of the past year we have seen a sparrowhawk, magpies and jays in the garden. Collared doves pay regular visits, a lesser spotted woodpecker has graced our peanut feeder and we have seen long-tailed tits on a number of occasions, usually in some numbers as is their habit. So why is it that when we settle down to count them for a whole hour on a single day many of them fail to turn up - not just these unusual visitors but the ones who appear almost daily? This year we did two counts at different times of day and on the two days to see if timing made any difference.   On each day we have seen blackbird, sparrow, starling, blue tits and the robin. The collared doves sat looking down at us from the electicty wires that cross a neighbouring property throughout each of our vigils but did not call in and the great tit, a regular, has not been seen all weekend. We did see the wren and a pied wagtail today, the latter a rare bird in the back garden although often seen on the front drive.   It is not just a case of spotting different species but also the greatest numbers at any one time of each species. Suffice to say that our maximum of seven starlings was massively eclipsed by the flock that came down to feed whilst we ate lunch yesterday and the sparrows came through in droves after our count today. Just how do they know when we are doing this count because this is not an unusual situation. It happens every year.   I don't know at what time others do their count. I am sure in the early days when we did it with our children the suggestion was to do it early in the day, at least before ten. We have tried early and late counts and others mid-morning or afternoon but always the number of species and the number of each species seems lower than our expectation.   If you have never had a go at this survey do give it a go another year. Spending time watching birds allows you to focus and to observe things that must go on daily outside of our general consciousness. Birds, like people, have very different characters and bird watching like people watching can offer inspiration.

Eye to the detail

Yesterday we were back at Blenheim enjoying a brisk walk in the grounds. As this has become a regular occurrence I am sometimes challenged to find new things to photograph (and afford myself a brief rest following the steep parts of the walk.) Spring seemed an obvious choice and I started off with daffodils and some sheep (sadly no lambs as yet in this flock) but then opted for looking in detail at the trees.   The Park is full of ancient trees and many are simply hollowed trunks with branches at odd angles. Others are in their prime and my first thought was to photograph the different bark patterns of the trees. Oak, Ash, Beech, Horse Chestnut and Silver Birch offered plenty of options and I took several of each. Then we began seeing shapes in the gnarled bark and splintered branches and located a “crocodile” with no difficulty. An eye of major proportions and a grimacing face peered out of the bark of a couple of other trees.   Of course one of the beauties of the walk is the abundance of wildlife. You can certainly hear plenty and the chiff chaff kept teasing us with his call although we never glimpsed him once. The Park has many pheasants and their call was almost constant and we saw several males strutting their stuff and then scurrying off at our approach. Two males facing up to each other however, were too full of other thoughts to disappear and I managed several shots of their attacks on one another. Later we were to see coots on the lake in equally combative mode but the best sighting for us was a single Little Grebe. At first he was quite close to shore but he soon drifted off and by the time I had the camera ready he was really too far out... and then he dived as I took the picture. Guessing where he was to resurface was not easy but I did get a distant shot in the end at least to remind us that we really did see him.   All in all it was a great walk, we met some pleasant people to chat to or pass the time of day and we explored yet another path we had missed before. There were signs of spring everywhere with a horse chestnut branch just showing the first soft, dangling leaves, violets beneath the beech tress and the sound of birds just some of the signs that spring is on its way.

Even the butterflies are golden

I know the weather had to break sometime but the sunshine of the past week has really lifted the spirits and the change in the countryside has been almost visible in its speed. I always think of the predominant colour as being yellow or golden at this time although the bank of wood anemones, with their white petals and soft pink blush on the underside, is looking pretty good too along our road.   The gardens have their daffodils but the roadside verges sport lesser celandine, dandelion and groundsel whilst the woodland areas have their primroses and even the motorway banks have displays of cowslips, planted when the road opened over twenty years ago and now well established. Cowslips used to be common in the countryside but they suffered a massive decline and the planting of these patches along stretches of road have done much to bring them back. I recall a talk given by Molly Harris, Martha of The Archers, when she discussed the making of cowslip wine by villagers in the past. I suspect it is the use of herbicides and loss of farming land to building rather than over-zealous production of wine that lead to their decline though. Dandelions and groundsel are, of course, considered weeds when growing in the wrong place and I suspect the local cricket team will need to mow their outfield pretty soon if the dandelions pictured are to be conquered. Meanwhile, they give a lovely glow of colour.   In the garden we have seen lots of butterflies including the buttery yellow Brimstone with its pale green underside to the wings,  and the hedgerows are full of yellow hammers this year, a bird we have seen much less in recent years so hopefully this indicates a boost in their numbers. It has been good to work in the garden, dry the washing with ease out of doors and generally enjoy the warm glow of spring sunshine.

Over and Out

Just a short while ago everywhere you looked the verges and gardens were filled with golden yellow from daffodils and primroses to celandines and dandelions and many other lesser known species too. Last Thursday, in pursuit of a bluebell wood to photograph, we took a short drive and found a patch of hedgerow no longer than a hundred yards that carried over a dozen species. This bordered the bluebell wood that was already carpeted in blue and looking superb in the dappled sunlight. However, although there were many golden species still in bloom the predominance was now for white.   The hawthorn (May) blossom was already in full flower and blackthorn flowers still added to the backdrop. Cow parsley was raising delicate stems with white umbels of flowers giving rise to their popular name of Queen Anne's lace and stitchwort and chickweed added their starry forms to the many shapes and sizes on show. Perhaps the overwhelming display was of Ransoms (wild garlic) and here it was in direct competition to the bluebells for scent and was sadly winning.   If this had been the border in the garden of some stately home it could not have offered more variety of colour and leaf form and there was no denying that all blended together perfectly. No need for garden designers to work their magic. Nature has done it all before.   The recent sunshine has certainly lead to many flowers blooming before their usual time. It has also meant that many have bloomed for only a short period, too. Oxfordshire is home to some of the few remaining fields of wild snake's head fritillaries. One village holds an annual open day at this time and this year that was the Sunday before Easter. By mid week people hoping to see this wonderful spectacle were reduced to searching for scattered specimens across the meadow. They had bloomed, set seed and died in the space of a week. .

Windfalls

Talk about a windfall these days and people probably think of financial gain yet for many country people in particular a windfall offered easy pickings for fruit as the wind had done the picking job for them.   In the past week we have seen several crab apple trees with a sea of red or yellow fruit at the base and in one village a large plum tree with deep purple fruit overhangs to road and was busy dropping its burden yesterday as we passed. Along the canal a round yellow plum attracts a mass of wasps on sunny days but will now have deposited much of the crop on the tow path. No doubt with the strong winds forecast for this week much of the crop of all these trees will become windfalls.   In cider-making country there may be a demand for these apple windfalls and those from trees in the gardens as it takes around 20lb of fruit to create a gallon of juice for cider. Other uses for the fruit include crab apple jelly or chutney.   Fruits from cultivated varieties can be pressed for their juice, combined with blackberries for bramble jelly or even bottled. I recall seeing shelves of bottled preserves when I visited a great aunt at the country residence where she was cook and her husband the gardener. It was a colourful sight.   Summer holidays were spent largely at the home of a maiden aunt. In the garden were several dessert apple trees, a cherry, a pear and a Victoria plum tree and two large Bramley apple trees whose branches were far too high for safe picking and the fruit regularly fell to the ground towards the end of the summer holiday and attracted the wasps. My aunt used to encourage local families to come and fill bags with the windfalls to save them going to waste. I can remember being very indignant when some of the children picked apples from the tree as well as picking up fallers but my aunt was happy to turn a blind eye! She made wonderful apple pies and preserved what she could but there was no way she could keep pace with the quantity. Her plum jam was also a delight and quite unlike the bright red version supplied by the local grocer.

Season of mists...

This year the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness is fulfilling its promise in abundance. Many mornings have seen the mistiness that leaves tree tops severed from their trunks. Back in early September I blogged about windfalls from a crab apple tree that has a yellow fruit and today I was able to take photographs of the branches laden with red fruit on an old favourite near our home. Back in April I took shots of the blossom which was really exceptional so it is not surprising that the tree has such a wonderful crop. People often say lots of fruit and berries means a harsh winter ahead but it is far more likely to result from conditions the previous spring than be a foreteller of doom.   Back in the garden we only have room for a couple of cordon apples but the fruit, although not great in number, has been far larger and with a superb flavour. A nearby garden has a quince tree, a fruit we have never tried. In years of abundance such as this a basket of quinces is always displayed for passers-by to help themselves and we have never done so but this year we have selected just a few fruits and, thanks to studying old recipe books and a number of articles in magazines, we are about to venture on some quince jelly. Not quite sure when we'll get the chance but will keep you posted. For those also in the dark about this once popular fruit a quince looks vaguely pear shaped but is harder like an apple and is not really eaten raw although some folk-lore suggests Greek brides did so to sweeten their breath. The simplest recipe I have found suggests simply cutting the fruit into small pieces and simmering to soften. Then straining and adding sugar, boiling again until a set is achieved. Other recipes include the rind and juice of a lemon. Anyone had any experience with making quince jelly?

Getting that festive feeling

The Christmas cake was always made during the half term holiday in our family. One afternoon we would gather all the ingredients together and the children, right from when they were very small, would help adding the eggs from a cup and sprinkling in the fruit as we stirred and did the hard work.   One of the attractions was the colour of it all. The glace cherries gleamed and had the essential red for the season. The lemon waiting to be deprived of its coat had a bright and cheery countenance and the angelica was a lovely deep green. Add to this the deep rich colour of the dark brown sugar rich with molasses, the varied colours of the dried fruits and the creamy whiteness of the almonds and it all looked so colourful it was no wonder the children wanted to have a part in it.   In recent years there have been no children at home to help us make the cake - the grandchildren now go through the same ritual with their parents. However, we still preserve the ritual of preparing everything first and laying it out ready to mix together. The cake tin is lined with greaseproof and shrouded in brown paper on the outside as I recall from my own childhood although I cannot find a single recipe suggesting the latter today and finding the brown paper would be a chore if I hadn’t saved it from previous years.   The need to complete the task at half term now gone, it was yesterday before we made the cake for this year and I began to wonder why it is the colour that is the deepest memory of the event. As we prepared the ingredients it was the rich aromas that overcame us and brought memories of previous years flooding back. Grating the lemon released the tangy scent of zest. Weighing out the sugar it was the molasses that threatened to overwhelm and measuring out the brandy – well, that is another thing altogether. The spices mixed into the flour added the exotic touch. Yes, the colours were there - after a long absence we had even managed to find some angelica this year to add its quirky nature to the mix – but it was the smell that evoked the memories and kept us reminiscing of the hopes and fears of previous years and thoughts of those to come.

Into Christmas Past

Yesterday we ventured out to one of the special Christmas openings arranged by the National Trust. Over the past few years more and more of their properties have staged special displays for the Festive season where once their properties closed from the end of October until Easter. Living as we do within reach of a half a dozen such properties we are somewhat spoiled for choice.   Every year since it started we have visited the Waddesdon Manor display. Linked with a ballet group the displays are glamorous and sparkling and dramatic and certainly put you in the Christmas spirit. There is also the advantage that they open on all their usual days so it is possible to visit midweek.   Most of the events are weekend affairs, however. Last year we went to Canons Ashby in Northamptonshire. There they have set up Christmas scenes in rooms in three distinct periods. The kitchen is Tudor in theme and the scents of spices and open fires mingle to give great atmosphere. The hall is decorated in Eighteenth Century mode and the main room in Victorian style. As a way of showing the development of Christmas traditions it is wonderful and they are repeating the themes for this year if anyone is close enough to visit.   Our choice for yesterday, however, was Basildon Park in Berkshire where we hoped to come face to face with our own childhood memories as the theme was the Fifties, the time from which the last owners and donors of the property lived in the house. We certainly enjoyed our visit although the Christmas themes were fairly low key and, as the flow through the house meant all room had to be open, some rooms simply had a floral display and maybe one of the reindeer for the children's trail. The main tree was in the staircase hall and reached to the upper floor and was well lighted by the lantern tower above that gives this inner hall its natural light. There we saw toys the like of which we would have aspired to in the Fifties although the reality would have been much simpler in design. One real joy was a most accomplished pianist playing medleys of carols and the occasional brave soul joining in to sing. With the piano in that same hall the sound echoed throughout the house.   To us the real joy was the kitchen, however. Here the decorations were made from the pages of magazines with the occasional glass bauble and paper angel to show what the shops offered in the period. Numerous magazines and cook book of the period were spread around to peruse and the room was packed. At a table games had been laid out for children to play whilst their parents explored. The day before the Christmas pudding had been mixed and it was there for people to give a stir and make a wish. A Good Housekeeping recipe using shredded suet had been used. Haven’t used that in a pudding for years. Yesterday they were making mincemeat and then mince pies. Sadly when we arrived the sampling plate was empty but the crumbs looked delicious! There were templates for the decorations and recipes sheets too. I have to say this was the room where we felt most at home and where the memories were strongest.   These Christmas events are held at many properties, not just the National Trust ones. English Heritage and many of the independent Stately Homes are involved now and make a welcome break from the commercialism of the normal run-up to Christmas. As we were both teachers in primary school every year brought a fresh light on the Christmas traditions and preparations and this is something we miss. These events, however, help restore a little of the magic.

Too many books?

If like me you have shelves groaning under the weight of books yet maybe hope to add to the collection come Christmas you may be looking for ways to thin things out a little.   Last year I came across a website where you can list books you want to sell for no charge. Green Metropolis offer all books at a flat rate of £3.75 with 5p going to the Woodland Trust and the seller receiving £3 out of which they have to fund the postage as once a book is sold you are contacted by Green Metropolis and are given the buyers address. For hardbacks and large paperbacks you can add extra postage in order not to be out of pocket. I have sold a few books this way.   Why not just take them to the charity shop? Well, I do that too but unsold items have to be disposed of after time. This way they go direct to people who want the title. It can also be a good site for tracking down books out of print or no longer widely available. You can take your funds as cash or simply use them to buy other books on the site.   Are you also aware that Oxfam lists books from some of its own bookshops on the web? Another good way to track down titles and a good way for the charity to sell more of the books it receives as donations.   http://www.greenmetropolis.com/index.asp   http://www.oxfam.org.uk/shops/content/books.html

Santa Express

Life is gradually returning to normal after the visit from the grandchildren. The house is decorated well ahead of schedule and some old favourites amongst the decorations have seen the light of day again. The highlight was the trip on the Santa Express.   This was our sixth Santa Express trip. With two grandsons so keen on steam trains it seems the obvious choice of Christmas outing although it was originally intended as a one off experience. Some years the trip has been in their home territory and others closer to our home. This year, for the first time, we returned to a venue we have tried before. Although it was a lovely sunny day there had been snow the day before. Here it had cleared but as we neared the railway things were far from clear and the car park was a skating rink. Safely parked and proud to have arrived exactly thirty minutes before departure as instructed we were met with news that due to a late start they were running about ten minutes behind schedule. So forty minutes to wait on a freezing platform with little to occupy their attention. We popped into the shop where we were told that the previous train had actually left a further five minutes late as they had waited for some people struggling with the road conditions. They knew they couldn't fit them on our later train as that was fully booked.   Not surprisingly, when the train did arrive and start to disembark the passengers we were all keen to get on and get warm but notices were slapped on - Do not Board. Cleaning and restocking in progress. We could fully sympathise with the frustration of the grandsons. We felt like rebelling ourselves.   Eventually things were restocked; we got onto the train and were soon under way - only twenty minutes after our scheduled departure. We were served our hot drinks and mince pies - for which we were all heartily thankful -and the children had their squash and biscuits and we sat back to enjoy the ride which was all the more seasonal with the snow clad escarpment of the Chilterns in view. Santa duly arrived and dished out gifts and the rest of the trip was most enjoyable. That particular route is several miles in length and ideal for boys who enjoy steam rides.   Normally we wait to see the next train off but we were all chilled and we were anxious to get the vehicles out of the frozen car park before it got completely dark.   Back home the seven year old told us how he would run a Santa special. Firstly, you would visit Santa in his grotto rather than him coming to you. (This arrangement at last year's event had obviously met with approval.)   Instead of people carrying trays of drink which run out (guess who had to wait for the next trayful while brother was downing his drink with relish) a trolley should be used to carry drinks for the whole carriage. He showed his business sense when pointing out tickets should cost the same as for usual rides plus the cost of the presents and when asked how he would cope with the refreshments left over after offering choices he said he would sell those in the station buffet. An entrepreneur in the making it seems.   So, will we be making a trip next year? Well, the oldest is seven. On the other hand it seems a shame to disappoint the three year old. I suspect we will have more freezing moments on railway stations in the future.   One thing, I do not envy the tasks of the many volunteers who man these trips and it is certainly not an area in which I would choose to volunteer. Maybe because to me the train is simply a means of transport. I have never quite got the feel for being a train enthusiast although I admire the engineering feat of those who made them and find them more attractive than their soulless modern counterparts but that is just nostalgia.

At the last fence...

I really thought this year we had taken the Christmas preparations at a nice steady pace. Gifts were bought, cards and letters dispatched and the house even decorated early with our grandchildren visiting the week before. The cake and pudding were made and I had even put the marzipan on the cake so just the icing remained.   I found I was out of icing sugar when I was baking for last weekend but forgot it again until yesterday. Our supermarket only had 3Kg bags of ordinary icing sugar or packets of royal icing mix just needing the water adding so I chose the latter. Despite our combined efforts beating it for half an hour in relays it was still quite runny. I put it on the top of the cake and let it find its own level - in a heap around the base of the cake. By constantly retrieving it and putting it back on top it has finally consented to stay on the cake and we will be having a snow scene this year as there is no way I am going to pipe any of it. Thankfully I had saved a bit of the marzipan so can make some holly leaves and berries to go round the edge and put the greetings plaque in the centre. However hard I try I can never quite achieve that pristine smooth topping to the cake with crisp piped patterns that my father always managed. Maybe I'll learn the trick one day. However, it will all taste just as good whatever it looks like - or so the family try to reassure me.   Whatever, you are doing, whoever you are sharing it with, have a Happy Christmas.

Happy New Year

Just snatching a chance to use the computer for five minutes. Visiting our son so have to take the opportunity whilst it is going.   Never really like making resolutions at this time of year as it seems to take all my time and effort dealing with the day to day in winter. However, I do like to get organised after the decoartions have been taken down and things have been tidiedo away. Then the new diary gets all the basic information that is passed on from year to year and I keep monthly sheets where everyone notes down appintments and meetings and so on so we don't clash with needing transport or whatever. That is about as far as organisation goes here. Resolutions? I generally find them easier to make after a summer holiday when I am feeling refreshed and re-energised. Or maybe years of teaching with the school year starting in September has upset my system!   Would just like to wish everyone a very Happy New Year and to hope that everyone has a peaceful and successful 2010.

Sheep - silly?

I don't know when you expect to start lambing on your farm, Sue, but hope it doesn't coincide with this cold spell.   I have never gone along with the idea that sheep are entirely stupid although their habit of following one another into awkward situations might suggest this. A couple of summers ago we climbed a very steep hill in the Cotswolds on a very hot day. We thought the hillside deserted until we realised that every patch of shade was occupied by a group of sheep. There was absolutely nowhere to sit down in the shade at all.   Last night on our local news they featured a photo that had been sent in of a group of sheep on a small holding that had taken shelter under a trampoline. A completely snow free area. Sheep - silly? Maybe not.

Like icing a cake

"It's easy Mum, just like icing a cake." This was the promise made by my son when he enlisted our help in putting up coving in the bedrooms and landing of his property. Given that my cake icing inevitably turns into snow drifts or the colours merge into each other like soggy newsprint I wasn't sure this was a good omen. Apparently the job would be neater using 3m lengths of coving and for that at least three people were required, two to hold the lengths in place whilst one "buttered" the sections and then passed hammer and tacks to said people to hold the lengths in place until dry. Guess which was my remit. Three full lengths were put up on Friday evening before any preparations for a meal took place. At that rate we could never complete the task by Sunday afternoon when we were due to return. It still left three short lengths in the first room and the whole of the rest of the upstairs to be completed, including the scarey bit over the staircase. Saturday we made an early start and soon had three short pieces in place and all done without cutting the joins at the wrong angle. The only snag was the lack of straight walls and ceilings. By the end of Saturday the first bedroom and landing were completed and there was very little wastage as careful calculations had been made. Sunday we had to be up early. Has anyone else ever had a plumber booked to call on a Sunday - any time between 8 and 4? This was to deal with a minor problem but did involve the radiator in the first bedroom - that's right, the one where we were sleeping. The early start meant we were already on the first length when the plumber called at the quite respectable hour of eleven o'clock. He took precisely ten minutes to locate and fix the problem leaving us to grapple with the remaining room. It soon became clear that a) we would need more of the lovely sticky stuff I was "icing" each section of coving with and b) we were one length short despite the careful calculations. We did finish the job. We were only an hour later than expected in getting away and even in their unpainted state the coving effect has improved the look of the rooms. A job well done though I say it who shouldn't. I'm only a little puzzled as to why the job is being done now after almost ten years in the property and when, due to a new base for his job, our son is intending selling the house. We have told him to add "all ceilings with coving" to his growing list of requirements for a new property!

Mobile madness

“Can I just stop you there…I’m actually on holiday this week.”  “Well, I’m not in the office just now. I’m on holiday.” “Is Geoff there? Well ask him to help. I’m on holiday now.” “Well, I’m on holiday this week but…” “I’ll be back in the office Tuesday. Can you manage until then?”   These are just a sample of the conversations we couldn’t help but hear as people answered their mobile phones on the seafront, in museums, at nature reserves and simply walking along the street as we enjoyed a week in Norfolk recently. Why didn’t they turn their phones off? They were on holiday. The world was not going to end because they were not in the office. As my brother once put it, “No one ever has ‘He was indispensable’ engraved on their tombstone.”   Our son had joined us and, as he is currently selling his property he needed to be available to take calls from the Estate Agent. He left his phone on but let people leave messages or texts and as his phone was in silent mode it was only later we learned how often he had been contacted by people at work. It seems no one can make a decision these days without getting the opinion of a committee of people, whether they are on holiday or not.   The mobile phone has its place and I fully understand its value in an emergency but it seems that today it is not so much a tool as a master for many people. Rant over…and we did have a great break despite the calls!

Gardening tradition

We have a very small garden but over the past few years have made it quite productive through use of pots, tubs, grow bags and any discarded container that holds water. Herbs have been a must and tomatoes and runner beans crop well along with salad crops of various kinds. It has become quite a contest with our children growing various items in their own gardens around the country and comparing their results.   Last year we tried growing potatoes in the fold up bags that were on sale everywhere. The first early crops did well and the second earlies not too badly but we had a disappointing main crop so this year we are just doing the first earlies to enjoy new potatoes when they are at their most expensive. We planted them on Good Friday. This was the day my OH's father always planted his potatoes and the same was true for my family. However, Good Friday is a moveable feast and not by just a few days but over several weeks, so how did the tradition begin?   I haven't been able to find anything suggesting a reason so put forward my own theory. People would have gone to church on Good Friday. It was a Holy Day and therefore a day everyone could recognise. Whilst they may not have appreciated that it was not a set day like Christmas Day it did occur at the beginning of spring and we all know how variable the weather can be at such times so it was probably as good a day as any and memorable to boot. Has anyone come across any other suggestions for this tradition?

New tricks

You can't teach an old dog new tricks they say but our son is doing well with expanding our DIY skills. Last time we visited it was to help him put up coving in the rooms where the builders had deemed it unnecessary. With lengths of 3 metres it was clearly not a one man task. This time the aim has been to decorate living room, stairs and landing as one entity. First however it was necessary to make good a wall full of gouges, lumps and bumps. Not for him a bit of Polyfiller and sandpaper, the trusted tools of his parents. He wanted to use a smooth-over material, applied with a roller and scraped back off again with a wide spatula. The spatula required regular rinsing off - my task. OH was filling minor defects elsewhere in his traditional way and them applying undercoat.   I have to say the new method has worked and with two coats of paint now applied the finish is fine. My task during painting is to load the roller and hand it to my son perched high up a ladder. Now he has reached the lower levels of the final coat I am excused duties so sneaked off to catch up on emails and so on.   Next visit we are promised gloss work and finishing off but those are all well honed skills so hope our learning curve has now reached its peak. Somehow between the two visits we have to fit in half a dozen appointments and I have an article to submit by Friday but juggling time is another thing we are well versed in.

Serendipity

Serendipity has been at work again although sadly not for writing. Another idea turned down today.   I had been clearing out some boxes and came across some craft items including quite a collection of oddments of wool. In the past I have knitted blankets and so on for charities such as Oxfam but I believe they now find it too costly to ship items abroad. Then our daughter gave me a leaflet requesting people knit small teddy bears to the pattern provided for a charity called Teddies for Tragedy. Apparently doctors working in the third world find it helps young patients if they are given a small toy of their own.   Delighted to find a worthwhile cause and a use for these oddments coinciding I set to and knitted a toy ... and then it struck me. I had no stuffing for toys available. In the past this would not have been a problem - off to good old Woolies. Where to go now? I am stumped. No doubt one of the big department stores may have it but locally I just haven't a clue. It is a real shame as there is sufficient yarn for at least one if not two more teddies just from the one box. Time is not on my side either as our grandson is due to start school soon and this request has come via his nursery.   Clearly on this occasion serendipity is going to need a helping hand.

Power - or the lack of it

With family due to visit at the weekend we have been in full preparation mode this week. Today was a chance to do last minute ironing until after the visit, start some baking and maybe have a chance to do some writing. First task was to put on a load of washing. Nothing happened. Eventually dawned on me that the cooker consol was not lit up and it must be a power cut. We had one yesterday that lasted all of five minutes so we lived in hope.   Half an hour later we phoned the electricity board number for reporting faults. They knew of the problem (said the recorded message). Engineers inspecting. Back on within two to three hours except near the fault where it may take longer. I know about these things. My father worked for one of the Boards and dealt with the engineers going out to check. Even with more sophisticated equipment for fault finding it still takes time for people to reach the area and then find the actual problem.   What could be done meantime - the ironing? Ah no, needs electricity. Baking? Could get things ready to mix maybe but with no idea when power would be restored that was as far as it went. Writing? Maybe from scratch with paper and pencil (can never read my writing when done in ballpoint pen) but the piece I needed to work on was on the computer and that needed - electricity.   Gardening took up a short time before rain drove us indoors. We had a picnic lunch that should have been tea and caught up on some reading. We did make up the beds ready for our visitors but it was only in mid afternoon that power returned and we could catch up.   How dependent we have become on electricity at the touch of a switch. OH lived without it for much of his childhood and still gets nostalgic for the oil lamps with their warm but forgiving glow against the harshness of electric light. However, today just about everything we do needs power. In recent years they have replaced all the cabling locally and assured us we would have less power cuts as a result - living in the country most in the past were the result of wild life or trees snagging the cables - but we have noticed little difference here. At least now the computer is powered up so if it goes off again I could at least write the article and we have flasks at the ready just as we have in winter.

Poetry Emotion

On our travels last week we came across a surprising amount of poetry. This was not the usual display of familiar works but the outpouring of feeling from people, often in extreme circumstances.   The oldest example was written in thanks to a local benefactor in providing a lifeboat for a small fishing community following a disaster which impacted harshly on its inhabitants. The poem appeared in the local museum alongside exhibits showing the harshness of conditions two hundred years ago and the challenge faced by all who put to sea. It also featured on a sculpture trail along the coast, putting it into context with other events.   The other poems all featured in displays related to more recent events and linked to the Second World War. A member of the Home Guard for a small fishing village had written a poem after the War that reflected the truth behind the image of Dad’s Army. Sadly the photos I attempted of this offering are indistinct but a couple of lines will give the gist   “They promised pikes and staves to wield No warrior trappings yours to don.”   Two further poems relate to a single former RAF airfield, long returned to its agricultural use. One was displayed in the village church which had served the base during the war and still carries memories of the link. The poem was written following a visit years after the war when the former airman had tried to piece together the geography of the landscape he once knew and relate it to those who would never return to explore as he had done. The verses painted a clear image of what had once lain just across the fields. The second, found in a museum, described how ground crew waited for the sound of returning crew in the sunset. A much simpler poem yet equally as moving.   Whilst all these poems were written some time after the event it was the final poem that was most poignant. Written in POW camp by the sole survivor of a seven man crew he ended his poem   “And you loved living Every bit as much as I.”   I studied the First World War poets at school but it was difficult to fully appreciate them in a sterile classroom atmosphere. These poems, displayed in their locations, may not have been great poetry but they were full of feeling and of their place and time.

Iced up

I know that many people have been experiencing some terrible conditions with snow and ice and coming in the lead up to Christmas it is proving an added pressure. We have had a bit of snow but nothing to really inconvenience us but then the past couple of days we have moved on to freezing fog which in many ways is more treacherous. As the fog has lifted during the day the temperatures have not changed and a veritable wonderland is being revealed with the ice decorating the vegetation in far more skilful ways than any Christmas decoration. We have had to go out during the past few days so I have taken the camera with me. It knows what it likes and that is not sub-zero temperatures so it only takes three or four shots and then refuses any more until I get it warmed up again but I have accumulated a few pictures to give an idea of conditions.   There have been a lot of references of late to the severe winter of 62/63. At that time I was in my third year of secondary education. For the first three years our school uniform included a skirt with a bib top. The top could be removed when you reached the fourth form (or you bought a skirt). Like many people my mother had opted for the economy of buying a larger size than needed in the first year. At that time the skirt reached well below my knees although not reaching the regulation ankle socks we wore. By the third year however it breached the school rule for being mid-knee level or below by several inches. Every time we get these heavy frosts I recall that winter. You had no feeling at all whilst out in the frosty or snowy conditions. It was the pain as you thawed out indoors. Not that we had to worry in school. The ancient heating system failed and for two months we carried on (no school closures then) with just the addition of an extra cardigan or jumper of any colour if we did not have a spare uniform one. You can just imagine the array of rainbow colours that appeared. With no trousers or tights allowed the extra jumpers simply emphasised how cold we were elsewhere. Of course, with only coal fires in a few rooms at home anyway most of us were used to being in much cooler temperatures as the norm. I don't think I would like to return to such conditions though.

Christmas Nights

Christmas Nights   A few days away in Wales gave us the chance to attend the Christmas Nights event at St Fagan’s: National History Museum in Cardiff. It is almost ten years since we took in this event for the first time and it has certainly grown both in terms of activities and popularity. Last time we took part in the carol singing in the chapel only a handful of people were Welsh speakers and so only one carol was sung in Welsh. This time the chapel was packed (about 200 people) and with many more Welsh speakers present the carols were sung in a mix of Welsh and English, no problem for my OH but my son and I were challenged. I used to sing in French, German and even Latin at school but had at least some grounding in the language first. However, Welsh sounds beautiful and the rousing singing meant everyone joined in with gusto.   The Museum has a large number of historic buildings that have been saved and moved to the museum site when they have been under threat. A great many of these would have been lit simply by the light from the fire and candles and so visiting the buildings in the evening at this time of year gives a real feel for the buildings and how they were used. The smells of smoke from the fire and the tallow candles and the simple furnishings make them all the more real. People are advised to bring a torch but there really is no need. Even within the buildings a few moments and your eyes adjust to the light levels and all becomes clear.   A number of customs are carried out and explained by actors. These included the Mari Lwyd and Hunting the Wren, the subject of one of the pictures here. Both events involved people going from door to door. For the Mari Lwyd a horse’s skull is carried and some say it represents the horse turned out of the stable to allow Mary to give birth, but on this occasion we were told it represented the donkey that carried Mary to Bethlehem. Whatever the real reason the singers perform a song which must be followed by one from within. This carries on until one group cannot return a verse. If that is the people within they let the horse inside. If the travellers run out of verses first they must leave and try elsewhere.   The old shops sell their goods including Christmas sweet favourites and there are a small number of fair rides. Entertainers such as stilt walkers and fire jugglers are scattered around the site, Father Christmas is snug in one of the old houses and the Working Men’s Institute had a puppet show this year. There were crafts to take part in and crafts to watch such as a working blacksmith forge and a cooper making barrels.   One terrace of cottages are furnished in sequence through from the 1800s to 1950s and for this season the living areas reflect this with decorations becoming ever more elaborate and the lighting changing from candles, to lamps to electric light.   Three hours is simply not enough to take it all in and we certainly hope to be back again before too long.

Lifetime of learning

A discussion with a cooper, a craftsman who makes wooden barrels, highlighted a problem that is occurring in many walks of life. He explained how difficult it had been to learn the craft as, unless you were an apprentice to a craftsman, he would be reluctant to pass on the “secrets” of the trade. As the number of people able to craft a barrel from scratch decreases so does the knowledge. This is a common problem in craft industries where tradesmen and craftsmen traditionally kept the vital information within the group   Recent programmes about the Fens have all included interviews with the only remaining eel fisherman on the Fens. With no successor another skill that will be lost. Numerous documentaries in recent years have told similar tales in fishing, farming, crafts and even industrial skills. Our son has a classic car – less than forty years old but with systems far less automated than a modern car. He can service it and do necessary maintenance but finding a garage with the know-how to carry out its MOT was a challenge.   This problem is not confined to the working world, however. Children used to pick up life skills from their parents or other relatives, learning gardening, sewing, cooking, knitting and the running of a home but increasingly we hear the cry, “They should teach it in school.”  I’ve lost count of the times I heard that during the course of my teaching career. Road safety, healthy eating, budgeting, cookery, needlework, carpentry and so on are amongst the many things it was suggested should form part of the school curriculum. Education is not confined to the classroom, however, but is a life-long process taking place wherever we are and with whatever we are doing. How often do you hear a skilled person say they have been in a job for thirty years and are still learning.   On the home front how many people now cook meals from scratch or have the skills to grow their own food and sustain a family from their own resources?  Maybe people with  those skills need to be called upon to pass them on just as craftsmen should be passing on their secrets. What better time than now when there is a greater need to make the most of the resources we have for both environmental and economic reasons.

Spring in the air?

The sun streaming through the windows this morning meant we just had to abandon routine and get out for a walk. A fairly stiff breeze but one to blow the cobwebs away rather than hinder progress. The recycling banks for our village are housed on the edge of the playing field so we headed that way first and then took a walk around taking in the signs of life that seem to emerge in sunshine.   The field alongside the playing field was filled with sheep and no doubt it won't be too long before we see lambs there too. At least it seemed a hopeful sign to see them grazing happily closer to home. Walking on a round it was amazing just how bright the colours were in the low sun. Even the lichen on the branches, a sure sign of clean air, were vivid shades of lime and sage green and the ivy that covered many of the older elder and hawthorn bushes that form the hedge around the field carried masses of dark berries.   It doesn't take much to lift the spirits and as we are promised more of the same tomorrow hopefully we will be free to venture further afield.

Signs of Spring

Sunshine tempted us to do some gardening yesterday. Aiming to cut back dogwood and buddleias we discovered all sorts of things beginning to stir into life. The hellebores are holding their heads above their old leaves so will be removing those to set the flowers off better in a day or two. Crocuses were open in the shelter of the patio and even the daffodils were developing buds now. They were late coming through but a few warmer days and they will soon make up for it. When they appear it makes you want to stretch up your head and enjoy the sunshine, too, so after a morning spent gardening we set out for the walk.   Apart from hazel catkins in the hedgerows the trees seem quite reluctant to welcome a seasonal change as yet. The buds on the ash, the distinctive black spade-shaped buds, were still firmly closed but stood out well viewed against the clear blue sky. We even found a few daisies open but it cannot be spring as yet because we were unable to tread on seven at a time.   I wonder if anyone else has come across this definition of spring. At school a retired art teacher returned to cover for a teacher who had an accident. One day she delighted us by telling us how she and our revered deputy head teacher had studied the lawn in her garden looking for a patch of seven daisies that could be covered by a single footprint. When you could do that, she assured us, spring is surely here.  As you can see something did stick in my mind from her words of wisdom! I have never heard the idea anywhere else but would love to know if others know of this or indeed other ways of determining the return of spring.

Spring has come - and gone again!

Up until last weekend we had been enjoying the unfolding of spring in the garden. The winter jasmine was in its final flourish and was being outshone by the forsythia with its more garish yellow blooms. Daffodils had opened in advance of St David's Day, unlike last year when the snow still lingered to stunt their growth. A few violets, crocuses and anemone blanda's were adding the purple/blue hues to the scene and all seemed full of hope.   Come the weekend and our son visited and agreed to help OH to trim back the flowering cherry that was heading for the electricity wires beyond our property and spreading over neighbouring properties. After much time spent locating ladder and tools within a very short time we had a pollarded cherry tree, the budding branches spread around the lawn. Well, if it survives it will be some time before that job needs doing again.   Attention was turned to a few shrubs that showed signs of winter wear. Many of these are also reduced to stumps and the fence they once disguised is laid bare once more. Now we give this treatment to the buddleia every year - and it grows again with renewed vigour. The passion flower is treated similarly and most years it achieves its fifteen foot full height and masses of flowers as before. Last year was the exception. Maybe the cold had got to the roots. However, do all shrubs survive such drastic treatment? We shall see. Meanwhile we contemplate large areas of bare earth and the birds have been deprived on perches and shelter on what today is a bitingly cold and windy day despite the sunshine.   Has all the hope gone? By no means. The daffodils continue to open and brave the strong wind. No wonder they have inspired so many poets.

Experience

The opportunity to attend top sporting events is not one most of us experience every day but last Friday saw us at Cheltenham on Gold Cup day. A hobby we have pursued for a long time is that of entering consumer competitions and whilst we may not have bagged the house, car or exotic holiday we have had many prizes that have offered something just as valuable – experience.   This was our second sporting win of the year as OH and DS were at the opening Six Nations match at the Millennium Stadium (although sadly the wrong side won.) Over the years we have enjoyed several of these occasions. OH and DS had a VIP day out at Silverstone for the Grand Prix and tickets to an event at Duxford. We have been to the NEC a dozen times to events as diverse as Antiques Fairs and the Motor Show, Gardening to Food and never had to buy tickets (although often the parking charges are high.) Afternoon tea at the Café Royal after a presentation and a tour of the BBC Natural History unit after another award ceremony are amongst the other things we may never have done without our hobby. Indeed the presentations can often be more exciting than the prize itself. We have met some interesting people, too. The children’s author and illustrator Shirley Hughes was delightful and chatted for ages about her writing.   Besides winning some very useful items (and some we have yet to identify a use for) I have also given talks to groups, written in magazines devoted to competitions and used a prize win as the basis for a short story that won yet more prizes. Many competitions in the past required slogans or short pieces of writing on a theme and this helped hone editing skills to meet the word limits. Today a great many companies rely on on-line competitions that are really simply prize draws with no skill involved so part of the fun has been removed although a win is still a win.   Now, in the past we have found each year seems to develop a theme. One year most of the prizes were books or CDs and another year we won no less than four kettles. If this is to be the year of tickets to events maybe I should consult a social calendar to see what else is on offer.

Chocolate Delight?

We don't watch much TV on channels with adverts, but last night the adverts almost put us off our viewing. Every advert break saw chocolate being poured or whipped or smoothed into moulds and for once we felt you could have too much of a good thing. Earlier in the day we had visited Cadbury World.   We'd visited before but then we had been taking groups of school children around and we had always promised ourselves a return visit.. In fact so long had elapsed since our first visit that the whole experience - and I use the term deliberately - was very different.  As we entered we were handed two chocolate bars. Now, what a time to present them. If people eat them in the exhibition there is a litter problem if not there is a melting chocolate issue. At one point we had the option of visiting the packaging department -an extra quarter of a mile we were warned. We wanted our moneys worth so we set off and, maybe to sustain us on our added trek, the first thing that happened was we were handed yet another chocolate bar. In fact we were glad we did this part of the tour as it was one of the most interesting areas.   Later at the demonstration area we were given tubs of melted chocolate to eat with a spoon as we watched the same product being turned into filled chocolates using moulds and so on. We saw chocolate footballs being created and chocolate shoes decorated. In one of the final displays we visited we were given the chance to "create" our own chocolate. Here a choice of fillings such as marshmallows or rice crispies were added a very large dollop of chocolate. Once more a spoon was provided. Feeling very full of chocolate we were not inclined to spend lavishly in the shop afterwards. In fact we probably found the museum displays about the building of Bournville and the provision made for the health and well-being of the work force a greater attraction. One thing it confirmed was our greater love for dark chocolate but none of that had been on offer. Last evening we could really have done without all those chocolate ads yet I suspect that normally we wouldn't even have noticed them.

What's in a name?

What’s in a name?   As we pootled our way to visit relatives yesterday I was struck once again by some of the unusual names that are found on any journey. I long ago learned of possible Roman, Viking or Saxon settlements found using elements of their names but many of those on the journey defied these rules. We travelled by way of Lechlade on Thames and Fairford where we stopped off to visit the parish church with its wonderful full set of stained glass windows, including clerestory windows,  all dating back over five hundred years. They have been gradually restored over the past decade or so but are now all back in situ and well worth a visit. The carved misericords in the chancel were also a delight.   Travelling on we came to a group of villages whose names were right out of an Agatha Christie novel. You could imagine Miss Marple coming out of one of the cottages or shops quite easily. Ampney St Peter, Ampney Crucis and nearby Ampney St Mary and Down Ampney derive their names from the nearby river, though. Further on we passed through Knockdown. I have been unable to track down the reason for this odd name though. Our Dictionary of English Place Names ignores its existence, perhaps as it is not a large community.   Further on our route appeared to have taken us overseas as we travelled through Dunkirk and Petty France but turned off before reaching Pennsylvania. Around the country there are many other “overseas” locations including Gibraltar in our own locality and Egypt in Hampshire.   Other names that have captured our attention in the past are Honeyburge in Buckinghamshire, Red Roses in Pembrokeshire and Farewell in Staffordshire. I am sure there are many more of these unusual names and everyone will have their own favourites. One thing is sure, however odd the place names we dream up for our  stories, there is likely to be an even less likely name in reality.

Getting to the root of the matter

Like many other Writelinkers, I suspect, I have taken a bit of a break from writing the past couple of weeks. What with all the holidays and visitors and so on, plus the sunshine, the call of the outdoors has been great. Whilst walks and opportunities for photographs for articles have accounted for some of this time the greatest amount has been spent in the garden itself.   A large viburnum had succumbed to the heavy snow that bowed it down in December and needed to be removed. After twenty years it had probably given of its best anyway. It was cut down in no time and OH opted to dig out the roots next day. However the more he dug the deeper they went. It seemed as if they went on forever. A few years back we had used a chemical painted on to an old tree stump to help it rot down and we went to the garden centre in search of advice.   If you recall the joke about the old man asked for directions who started off by saying "I wouldn't start from here," you might appreciate the conversation we had with the manager of our local store. However, he came up with suggestions, several of which, give him his due, did not even require a purchase from his store. We learned lesson number one. A shrub has two thirds of its whole below ground. "It's the same with trees," he continued, offering lesson two, "the roots spread as far away from the trunk as the canopy grows above ground. People plant these ornamental cherries thinking they are small and before you know it the thing is growing under their property." He looked at our faces. "You have an ornamental cherry tree, too?"   We got Brownie points for recognising black spot on our roses and for not composting the leaves that fell. He offered a couple of solutions to this problem. Amongst them not planting the particular rose affected as it was susceptible to black spot. Ours was however a gift for our ruby wedding so not strictly speaking guilty on that charge.   Over the weekend our son helped remove the root using pick axe, crowbars and brute force. When I say remove the root out, they cheated a little and cut through the roots holding it in place and anchoring it. After mutilating the ends of the roots remaining, backfilling with stone before the soil we are now in the process of replanting the area. Ah, yes, the garden centre did make some money out of their free advice after all although several items we are fitting in are plants that had outgrown their pots on the patio. Where one shrub once filled the space a dozen smaller perennials and climbers have now been positioned and we are planning the removal of a number of other overly large shrubs over the year in the hopes that we won't have any more major projects of this type to deal with. Back to writing now, hopefully.

Another experience day

Alongside a steady supply of new books it seems this year is to be one of experience prizes. After the Wales/England rugby match and an outing to the Cheltenham Gold Cup yesterday saw us at the NEC for Gardeners' World Live where there is also a Good Food section and Countyfile representation. Despite the threat of rain and the occasional shower we enjoyed another great day out and came back with plants as a continuing memory. We ate our picnic lunch sitting on a grassy bank whilst listening to a talk on planting vegetables and enjoyed talks by John Craven, Simon King and Alan Titchmarsh at various parts of the day, all of whom were very entertaining speakers.   With so many plants on display and gardens to inspire it was difficult to make choices for our own use but we opted for a selection of Nemesia plants to place in pots on the patio (don't expect ours to make as spectacular array as the photo but they look and smell delightful)  and some tall white daisies to add interest to the border that was revealed when we removed the rogue Viburnum shrub earlier this year. In the food hall we sampled quiches and ice cream, cheeses and yogurt drinks in a somewhat random order that would have been the despair of those who always preached that we should finish our savoury course before starting on the desserts!   Whilst there are few of the old style competitions on packets and tins or on leaflets in stores there are far more options these days with on-line comps and even those on Facebook and Twitter although we haven't ventured into this territory. Indeed, yesterday we entered several prize draws at stands offering everything from wine to a greenhouse so there is always that sense of anticipation that something might just turn up. After all, this was our third trip to Gardeners’' World Live over the years and every time we have won the tickets.

Come in number 7

A few weeks ago we were lucky enough to see the stage version of Yes, Prime Minister at the Millennium Centre in Cardiff. It was every bit as entertaining as the TV version. Updated and with excellent casting it seemed to appeal to all ages.   One episode that was particularly entertaining was when, during a crisis, the Press Secretary was fielding a telephone interview and was being fed responses via a numbered list of responses. All these rang true, of course, as ones we often hear trotted out on the News and other programmes.   Since attaching a Blog to my website I have noticed many of the unwanted comments I have to filter out are duplicated from apparently different addresses. This week I had the evidence of the existence of such a list for those carrying out these activities when I received a well-used reply, this time preceded by the number seven. I wonder how many there are altogether?

Bully Plants

A few years back we removed several buddleia plants that had self-seeded into our drive - a drive covered in pavers I might add, not gravel. A few years before that we removed a Russian Vine. It was recommended to us when we moved into the house and found ourselves faced with a six foot high block wall on one boundary. The vine quickly covered the wall, and everything else in the border, and promptly flowered on the other side of the wall where the only audience was a group of orphaned lambs from the farm next door.   In recent months we have been digging out a whole collection of shrubs that have outgrown their welcome. Bought because the labels said they grew to four or five feet in ten years we hadn't appreciated that they didn't stop growing at that age and they had simply swamped the borders at the back of the garden. The huge empty space looked daunting but has been quickly colonised by more manageable perennials and climbers giving so much more variety and interest although none are evergreen as the shrubs had been.   The latest plant to come under a demolition order has been a geranium. We planted one tiny plant about fifteen years ago and every year we have divided the plants, thrown out anything dead and redistributed the excess around the garden. Friends and family and the local fete have all benefited from its bounty but quite honestly you can have just too much of a good thing and its particular shade of pink clashed terribly with every other pink flower in the garden. Now only plants situated at the back of borders remain giving them several years before they encroach once more upon the lawn. We love geraniums and would like to add new varieties but one problem remains, we have lost the label to this particular one and do not want to find ourselves with another specimen. (We have  vague idea that the name Clarissa was part of the title.) We could probably supply plenty of our own to the nurseries.   Lambs ears, love-in-the-mist and nemesias are other plants that have self-seeded and filled any available space. Most are tolerated and they can more easily be dug or pulled out but we really are beginning to thing the garden centres and books could do with a category of plants - bullies. Invasive is not strictly the term needed. These just keep growing and don't know when to stop. Are we the only ones who have come late to this knowledge or do others have their own bully plants?

Jelly good

After a couple of weeks savouring the smell of the ripening quinces it was finally time to trial quince jelly. After consulting recipe books from several decades and of varying levels of sophistication I decided on a very simple version of quince jelly. The absolute basic recipe I found simply boiled the sliced quinces in water with sugar but I adapted my apple jelly recipe instead and added a lemon for flavour and to aid the set.   Slicing quinces is no easy task. It took my heavy duty cook's knife to do the deed and even then I had to lean on it heavily. No wonder they say you cannot eat the fruit raw. I put the whole fruit in as I was making jelly. Added enough water to cover and then let them simmer away until soft. I grated the rind and squeezed the lemon to add but then added the rest as well. Once all was softened I strained the mixture through a jelly bag - no easy task as I discovered it had sprung a hole since last used. Improvised by using a folded piece of damp kitchen paper in the base and only juice got through to leave a lovely pink clear liquid.   Left overnight to strain the next day I added sugar at the rate of a pound to a pint of juice and boiled it all up until setting point was reached. Poured the jelly into sterilised jars and sealed them and the resulting ruby jelly looks wonderful. Worth making for the colour alone. A real jewel of a jelly. (An unusual ruby wedding gift perhaps?). We have tasted the sample pot and as someone remarked in the earlier post the jelly is very sweet but would make a great foil to cheese or meat dishes, rather as cranberry jelly enhances turkey I think.   At every stage, mindful of the writer's hat, I took photos and made a note of any snags that arose - don't they always - and although this was a fairly lengthy process I think the effort will prove worthwhile and we will have satisfied our curiosity about this historic fruit.

Bargain Hunting

I wrote this for my website blog but thought I would share it here with fellow Writelnkers, many of whom may have their own specials stories of sales successes - or disasters.   Boxing Day and the sales have started – that is those that had not already been running since before Christmas. Sales were even running on-line on Christmas Day itself. Today retail outlets are reminiscent of a Dutch auction. Stock is displayed at ever decreasing prices until a buyer is found.   Sales used to be so much more fun. Sales were held twice yearly, in June and January, and many people looked forward to their sales shopping, not least for the sense of danger, and even saved towards it. Today the goods are displayed in dump bins or trays or simply left upon the shelves with bright red labels attracting attention. In the past stock was often brought in especially for the sales. There was no attempt to produce tempting displays. Instead household furnishings such as towels, sheets and curtains were simply tipped out in a mound on the shop floor and shoppers pulled out the items that took their fancy. What Health and Safety would make of these unsteady towering piles today can only be imagined but in the Fifties and Sixties shoppers happily took part in a deadly tug of war to achieve their prize.   Besides imported stock there were all the ends of ranges – buttons, knitting patterns, rolls of dress materials and clothes galore – that had to be cleared. Often these items were tipped into trays on the counter for customers to sift through. Buttons at a penny each were tempting but so frustrating, too, when it was only possible to find five matching buttons for a pattern demanding six. End of rolls of fabric often left very odd amounts to be sold as remnants. Calculations could be lengthy deciding whether a rearrangement of the pattern pieces might make it fit the available cloth.   Colour was another issue. Often the clothes left at the end of a season were in the least popular sizes but just as likely the remaining stock contained many of the more unusual or trendy colour-ways. To find an entire outfit in the sales was therefore unlikely unless your requirements were for the odd size or you were prepared to go out on a limb with an unusual colour combination.   Television today sometimes features crowds queuing outside large department stores in cities but in the past this would not have been so newsworthy as queues for sales were common everywhere. Grabbing the star bargains was a case of being prepared to make sacrifices, arriving early and being single-minded about heading straight for the appropriate department once allowed inside. Setting your sights on a less competitive area could be the key to sales success. There were fewer people aiming for the menswear departments, for example, so your chances of bagging a bargain there were far greater.     With shops constantly having sales, special promotions and events, sales shopping is almost considered the norm today. Buying a product for the best possible price may involve shopping around, considering on-line purchasing or even haggling but there is no sense of occasion as in the past. Like so many seasonal happenings the sales have lost their unique appeal.

Who's counting?

This coming weekend is the annual Big Bird Count for the RSPB. We have been taking part in this for many years, the first of several natural history counts we have participated in. In recent years we have recorded butterflies for Butterfly Conservation and undertaken two surveys for Mammals Trust, one recording sightings and evidence for mammals at our local playing field for the period April to June and this is followed by the longer established survey of road kills. Here you record animals (dead or alive) seen on road trips of over twenty miles and this is done from July to September. Only recording in daylight hours it is still advisable for the driver not to be the spotter on these trips!   Not quite sure what we will record this year for the bird count though. In our front garden a single blackbird has almost taken up residence in the pyracantha in order to keep all the berries for his personal larder. In the back garden we rarely see more than a few sparrows, a couple of robins and occasional starlings, collared doves and jackdaws. We did see a wren one day last week and we hear the call quite often if in the garden but the undergrowth hides them well.   The lack of birds is most likely due to the mild weather as this means food is plentiful and they don’t venture into gardens and to bird feeders so readily. We put out a variety of foods and have feeders in different locations but it makes little difference it seems. One thing that may be deterring them is the unusual open nature of the garden – until today that is. Before Christmas a panel of the fence blew down exposing us to the full view down the farmyard beyond. We arranged for a local chap to do the repairs “as and when” and that may have been a mistake. Related to the farmer who he knew was not fussed by the lack of fence in this instance the job has been put off and put off until last weekend a new post appeared whilst we were out shopping.   At various times during the past week the coping stones have been replaced. Bracing brackets have appeared on the remaining sections of fence and today, equally as mysteriously the fence is back in place. If we hadn’t caught the odd glimpse of a retreating figure we may well have blamed the little folk for the work. The lack of fence has left us even more vulnerable to the various cats that reside in every building around us and their presence may well be deterring the birds. Let’s hope they realise in time that a relative haven has now been restored complete with first class restaurant.

Shop Horror

This week we were requested to pick up an item from a large toy retailer. A picture was emailed to us, details supplied, right down to the product stock code. What could be simpler?   The retailer was based on a large complex of such outlets with car parking provided. So far so good. Surely all we had to do now was go inside, pick up the item and pay. Being well schooled in recycling measures we had our own shopping bags. These were forbidden in this store so back to the car to place said bags in boot. Entering the store we were confronted with a maze that would have done justice to a stately home. No one alley lead straight into the store. We were lead backwards and forwards through dolls, construction kits, cards, wrapping paper, large toys and tiny plastic numbers that would hardly see the outside of the store before they were lost or broken.   Eventually we made it into the main area and were met with aisle upon aisle of toys stacked to the ceiling, well above the height even the tallest customer could reach, and I am not one of those, and virtually no labelling. Everything was geared to taking customers up and down endless aisles in search of their needs. No helpful staff were placed strategically to head people to their required aisle - customers had to rely on fellow sufferers who were vague as to where they had last spotted the elusive item. Almost fifteen minutes after entering the store we finally tracked down one pair of in-line skates as requested. Stock code matched as did all details so now to head for the tills. But not so fast, we still had to negotiate further aisles before finally spotting a row of (unmanned) tills beyond the parking lot for a vast array of transport for the under twos.   An assistant emerged from a backroom, accepted our remittance, asked if we really needed a bag as it had a carrying handle and, as we left the store, she retreated once more to her sheltered position behind the scenes. For those of you who, like us, are more familiar with the toy shop in the photo, be warned, toy shopping is no longer the eagerly awaited treat.

May Day

As we were away for the weekend we missed the village May Day celebration. No doubt it would have been well attended falling at a weekend as it is always held on May Day itself whatever day of the week it falls on.   The village children process from the school to the church with a group of the older pupils carrying the floral garland used to decorate the fifteenth century rood screen. Standing on the screen is a cross representing the Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. This figure is decorated in box and is freshly done for the May Day festival and again in September for the Feast Day of Mary. All the other children carry crosses decked with flowers so the whole procession is very colourful.   The children stand outside the church whilst the garland is blessed and then they sing their May Day song to the assembled crowd before entering the church for the service. After the service the children perform traditional Maypole dances and receive a small monetary gift.   Maidens no longer go down onto Otmoor to gather the flowers and foliage for the garland but in many other ways the children are continuing a tradition.   The garland and crosses remain in the church for the following week so I have been able to take some photographs that show not only the floral decorations but also the beautifully restored screen.   Oxford has its singing from the tower of Magdalene College at dawn on May Morning and other villages have their maypole dancing but Charlton's ceremony is unique so far as I am aware.

Christmas events

We don’t seem to be fitting in so many trips to local seasonal events this year but we have made it to the Christmas event at Waddesdon Manor in Buckinghamshire. This National trust property decorates one wing, known as the Batchelor’s Wing, using a different theme each year. For the past couple of years this has featured one of the five European countries where the founding sons of the Rothschild dynasty made their fortunes. Waddesdon was built by one of these sons but this year the theme is Italy for his brother Carl.   Huge trees are set up in the various rooms and amongst the usual baubles are items related to the theme. Decorations included carnival masks in the Venetian themed room and miniature picture frames and paint brushes in the room dedicated to great Italian artists. The film The Italian Job was marked by a tree garlanded with miniature “gold” bars with models of Minis and a coach suspended fro the branches. The formal dining room decorations were inspired by the citrus groves with towering displays of fruit and swags of olive branches whilst the smaller dining room was dedicated to Leonardo as an engineer and mathematician with protractors, rulers and set squares marking the place settings.   For children, the staircase display told the story of Befana who brings toys to Italian children on the Eve of Epiphany and scenes from Pinocchio’s adventures were spread through the ground floor rooms including a particularly amusing “whale” bursting through the bathroom window and disgorging Pinocchio and Giuseppe into the waves.   Carl Rothschild was based in Naples, an area noted for creating wonderful crib scenes. An example was set up in the Billiard room and in a nearby room a tree had been decorated all in red to represent Vesuvius.   The rooms and setting remain the same each year but the variations in decorations and hidden details make it well worth making a return visit, helping to instil the Christmas spirit.   Photography is not allowed within the house but the grounds are open and lighted trees are dotted around. The birds can still be viewed in the aviary and indeed they seemed more vociferous and visible than on summer visits. A reindeer trail leads down through the children’s play area to the Stable block with shop and café. In the early years of this event the house stayed open until 6 so the full effect of this could be enjoyed but now 4 is the closing time. Visiting at this time of year gives quite a different perspective on both house and grounds and certainly sets us up for the festive season.

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