tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76351810723975387032024-03-19T03:31:29.171+00:00Woodland FayMusings of a disordered but endlessly enthusiastic kind. Wine, food, art, gardening, France, Italy and home again giggerty gig.Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.comBlogger57125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-31064077322880406252009-10-06T21:07:00.005+01:002009-10-06T21:46:54.510+01:00Tomatoes With A Love Injection<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4NIE5K0NwVUkF4HnPDEFyInHOBM9Vn9oho6K3pNjaqg9Cayw54Y66AklkGxAckmW8pqRiqsbPl1Ox0qtjvFGYrK_q5lL4XJZ7EGbXiPUBtIa8ZFQXNI5K8NQFa3J9DWJqfLGqfxGfWgBK/s1600-h/tomato_love_injection.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4NIE5K0NwVUkF4HnPDEFyInHOBM9Vn9oho6K3pNjaqg9Cayw54Y66AklkGxAckmW8pqRiqsbPl1Ox0qtjvFGYrK_q5lL4XJZ7EGbXiPUBtIa8ZFQXNI5K8NQFa3J9DWJqfLGqfxGfWgBK/s400/tomato_love_injection.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389590431636869922" border="0" /></a><br /><br />12 heart-shaped baby tomatoes (there is a variety called Baby Heart or else, like me, you get lucky with a seed cross. Of course, any cherry toms will do)<br />A pinch of well ground celery or lovage seed salt<br />Squeeze of lemon<br />A dessert spoon of Worcestershire Sauce (or to taste)<br />A teaspoon of Tabasco (or to taste)<br />8 fluid oz of good-quality vodka<br />One or two drips of Port<br /><br />The fiddly bit<br />Using the empty syringe (you will need the largest possible diameter needle from your friendly chemist) carefully remove as much natural juice as possible entering the tomato through the green head, you will need to wiggle it about carefully without opening a hole. Allow the ingredients to mix and mingle for ten minutes then filter through muslin, any particles will block the needle, so take time over this. Fill the syringe with the mix, tapping it a couple of times with your nail if you want to look nursey (and don't we all!), and inject through the same top hole being careful to not overfill or the tomatoes will split with the pressure. Chill. Warn everyone to close their mouths around the little tom bombs, as they are quite explosive so serve with napkins!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx9HbsqaZ8sHDnX0ZBcSaHrk1a8M92ArM1AAMNqEP7bu7zVHk0PF0LMuVR-zJqlhER-uGK4XvGDPXVZ5MX_JqzkwIakFBhjsVoSaWpoui5Rofwz476TqpZY9m4n4fUs9hkbOZdUJ54QyRu/s1600-h/tomatoes_more.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx9HbsqaZ8sHDnX0ZBcSaHrk1a8M92ArM1AAMNqEP7bu7zVHk0PF0LMuVR-zJqlhER-uGK4XvGDPXVZ5MX_JqzkwIakFBhjsVoSaWpoui5Rofwz476TqpZY9m4n4fUs9hkbOZdUJ54QyRu/s400/tomatoes_more.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389590080864676306" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-30127447247226756172009-10-04T23:22:00.012+01:002009-10-05T01:12:33.832+01:00Mid Merlot Harvest<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUIEzXz9bykq_v-Et1q3FJOM080JZt3os1iO0odwkBaRRSfP3UutY3nmCjXe7XssA_cdjZaM6M1bitkEVjroZtJO7PpykPQAz0E7PiylykV5tburygMieyoLSZGWa2c3Iz0yXitYi1YRaT/s1600-h/merlot_bagged.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUIEzXz9bykq_v-Et1q3FJOM080JZt3os1iO0odwkBaRRSfP3UutY3nmCjXe7XssA_cdjZaM6M1bitkEVjroZtJO7PpykPQAz0E7PiylykV5tburygMieyoLSZGWa2c3Iz0yXitYi1YRaT/s400/merlot_bagged.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388874426701384482" border="0" /></a>So many backlogged blogs remain stubbornly in my mind and not on the page. Since returning from Italy we have been inundated with crops to process, at present the vines are the priority, and not just our own harvest but we seem to be collecting other growers grape excesses via our local Freecycle. (Luckily, we have also received help with additional equipement by the same route).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoSoOfclLDlJO-Do1OzGuZ7xQ57Es2ooEceCE_QWfNDVfA_tJvDNYgLCgQwHZRY8-cs9xd_8WZBlYXluG-65tXBOJqeidoSwiPLjYq1HmDiHFgfN6McwVwoJd4zP49xKEQyLDytTK0tJjl/s1600-h/merlot_on_route.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoSoOfclLDlJO-Do1OzGuZ7xQ57Es2ooEceCE_QWfNDVfA_tJvDNYgLCgQwHZRY8-cs9xd_8WZBlYXluG-65tXBOJqeidoSwiPLjYq1HmDiHFgfN6McwVwoJd4zP49xKEQyLDytTK0tJjl/s400/merlot_on_route.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388874418754060178" border="0" /></a>So, the kitchen has become a cross between a modern laboratory and a witches' cauldon, with bins bubbling with fermentation and large pots steaming with sauces, jams and chutneys due to the tomato glut (next blog). Fruit flies abound, but hopefully have been kept out of the brews, as with all brewing, cleanliness is next to <span>g</span><span>oo</span><span>d</span>ly-ness! <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk-wmYSWy7aFmSw-NTwJaNx-YumvbYBp5H2ge0aEIXoiaiuBiFz0WqihSYuJCotafR7jFeCN4Bwcu6Cq-d-4lBpYaODIA59K8dhLXXmxqbxN6gZb6I92H3MD2JP0unh8nFQfiUyLmUlQ3w/s1600-h/west_drayton+grapes.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk-wmYSWy7aFmSw-NTwJaNx-YumvbYBp5H2ge0aEIXoiaiuBiFz0WqihSYuJCotafR7jFeCN4Bwcu6Cq-d-4lBpYaODIA59K8dhLXXmxqbxN6gZb6I92H3MD2JP0unh8nFQfiUyLmUlQ3w/s400/west_drayton+grapes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388875749698405490" border="0" /></a>In haste, more soon.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-6635552121346392812009-09-19T00:19:00.015+01:002009-09-20T11:03:29.926+01:00'The greenest island of my imagination' (Byron on Venice)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBE5dhKSIenYbgn_OdloBz0AcLxKo5qa-NIjcFCiXuqw-qRqxOegStjCZFIaX99FoUksX0RdGPlzdejRrvbs6HMS1EM4mmMh4oOdGO6CMf9KWN4AvQI8fLngEhzYOvzScfRsorKfkCz7NZ/s1600-h/mooring.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBE5dhKSIenYbgn_OdloBz0AcLxKo5qa-NIjcFCiXuqw-qRqxOegStjCZFIaX99FoUksX0RdGPlzdejRrvbs6HMS1EM4mmMh4oOdGO6CMf9KWN4AvQI8fLngEhzYOvzScfRsorKfkCz7NZ/s400/mooring.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382956273314470258" border="0" /></a>Le Vignole is an isolated island dotted with farmsteads and vineyards and literally, wildly different to its neighbour, Venice. Its vineyards gave the island its name. The Isola di Sant'Erasmo (St. Erasmus) is the largest island in the Venetian lagoon, but it's only sparsely populated. It comes as a surprise, after days of exclusively floating past water transport to see vehicles including agricultural tractors near the shore and a small car park full of scooters near the <span style="font-style: italic;">vaporetti</span> stop. The mind leaps to questions of logistics, ‘how did those get there?’ The island is particularly renowned for it’s artichokes, <span style="font-style: italic;">carciofi</span> and is known as Venice’s market garden.<br />We had hoped to take a temporary mooring at Le Vignole (free short-stop moorings being clearly marked on the navigation maps) to ride the <span style="font-style: italic;">vaporetti</span> to Murano to restock the kitchen cupboards, but meet with an irate workman with his boat demanding our space, his manic shrugging of shoulders and tutting and clucking and our lack of a shared language made an argument redundant, we gave way. He indicated a mooring under a low bridge but to get to it we had to circumnavigate the island. The mooring turned out to be nonexistent, a ploy to remove us, no doubt, but the trip around the island most pleasant. That still left us provision less, so we decided to head for Certosa. In recent times the island was used for the manufacture of gunpowder and its disused buildings are being slowly but lovingly restored.<br />Out of adversity one can find perfection and the mooring we found at Certosa turned out to be a little <span>haven, a safe harbour from any </span><span>miffed </span><span>locals gesticulating storm</span>. It's virtues include unhindered views of Venice (from our mooring), the helpful and willing staff of Vento di Venezia, the surrounding parkland full of monumental artworks and an amazing pontoon out into the lagoon holding a ‘request only’ vaporetti stop. The marina has a free water-taxi service after 9pm, an exciting high-speed zoom across dark and churning frenetic waterways (real men are expected to balance and stand in the wind and spray, love it). By the way, have I mentioned the Venetian men yet;-)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUJGqwzN5ay8ZV5QqfDIlwQ47wEWbOQruOiwke-c1WIx-aNHqD4FFBz_ipq3SHyo9_f_ZfgxqjRGHPQ9ljbmD7ccW3dZ_4ElJ1_L3fkXqVHqbM2j7FWCowfaFzOVkSVaddgeZ5I7Cez-R2/s1600-h/marina.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 263px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUJGqwzN5ay8ZV5QqfDIlwQ47wEWbOQruOiwke-c1WIx-aNHqD4FFBz_ipq3SHyo9_f_ZfgxqjRGHPQ9ljbmD7ccW3dZ_4ElJ1_L3fkXqVHqbM2j7FWCowfaFzOVkSVaddgeZ5I7Cez-R2/s400/marina.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382951625750767442" border="0" /></a>Huge poster outside the marina offices of Vento di Venezia showing the island, its parkland and the extraordinary pontoon (left) leading to the request <span style="font-style: italic;">vaporetti</span> stop. We have the first mooring at the mouth of the inlet overlooking Venice, fantastic.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKLTMHjcqXRB3MqciE8XFTDsXY8ggQbC9cWylagIIB5QstjQfpKrdrJ5KXrJOgONYjClQR2zVgxHmbkO2CSYiAcerFlUecBhjk0GTcytAps4MKv_FEsTRbiEwyz0oYJuFfbdGKKzLS-Pzd/s1600-h/parkland.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKLTMHjcqXRB3MqciE8XFTDsXY8ggQbC9cWylagIIB5QstjQfpKrdrJ5KXrJOgONYjClQR2zVgxHmbkO2CSYiAcerFlUecBhjk0GTcytAps4MKv_FEsTRbiEwyz0oYJuFfbdGKKzLS-Pzd/s400/parkland.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382951622233779186" border="0" /></a>Views of Venice from the mooring on Certosa.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiwkAY4rKb8_ufJJoSzLL4dtZbg2ABIbhLRI0JA81UOGvJRGyhPzeMFNzw8uEYpN4KbiKW3oTFdvz1VsprufJnysiOY_6_5SCMVVzkeFc4A6Em_lxkiERGrMY87ua3eot40CkgTtMq-AWE/s1600-h/onwaytocertosa.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiwkAY4rKb8_ufJJoSzLL4dtZbg2ABIbhLRI0JA81UOGvJRGyhPzeMFNzw8uEYpN4KbiKW3oTFdvz1VsprufJnysiOY_6_5SCMVVzkeFc4A6Em_lxkiERGrMY87ua3eot40CkgTtMq-AWE/s400/onwaytocertosa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382951613779076162" border="0" /></a>On the way 'home' from provision shopping on Murano.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQOGEv57A1DcgeULuwVriwR535IhqHxqQIjsWEtQ_iOQHIMod9mINCo7GrKg-GIEh-iavl8tKoxmS6rHaNLejk__6meRZrgQeBgJI7Js3wu_LKIVSv6peMDvX3i3SogG5YYl42Jd5Vznbj/s1600-h/longexposure.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQOGEv57A1DcgeULuwVriwR535IhqHxqQIjsWEtQ_iOQHIMod9mINCo7GrKg-GIEh-iavl8tKoxmS6rHaNLejk__6meRZrgQeBgJI7Js3wu_LKIVSv6peMDvX3i3SogG5YYl42Jd5Vznbj/s400/longexposure.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382951606105780914" border="0" /></a>A long exposure of the night lights of Venice from the boat after a water-taxi has rippled by.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglQZNaarYrvxcoJl8jWOpG9Ajs6Pj4qfhZve8NYqSnoVm0zBOEtDNrfoHOlNDPpkl3vBZ7fC1_L8np3qFccL7ISOuX0clsjWLQEnJv5u35coF35jmw5w-Kzl3pKWMpkusyvlYgebBaMZu3/s1600-h/artwork.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglQZNaarYrvxcoJl8jWOpG9Ajs6Pj4qfhZve8NYqSnoVm0zBOEtDNrfoHOlNDPpkl3vBZ7fC1_L8np3qFccL7ISOuX0clsjWLQEnJv5u35coF35jmw5w-Kzl3pKWMpkusyvlYgebBaMZu3/s400/artwork.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382951598393803410" border="0" /></a>Monumental art work, part of the Venice Biennale, on Certosa. The coloured lozenge shapes are glass and the interiors of the posts light up and shine through the glass at night.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-67749685604294074022009-09-17T21:37:00.012+01:002009-09-20T11:04:20.257+01:00Tranquil Torcello<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfDU1ID2FlnT07rAXmV1MFanW7VWYjwkqaPYftpaXSTb3BwlmrOhbOtpwtEW1wxFK47TnT29Ptqdy6Q5r4jQaPUYo7GejXi463hqbUPzEaseZ6EaBrJlEkUc9-yew-9aLrOsBpcOp0SYv8/s1600-h/moonlight_over_torcello.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfDU1ID2FlnT07rAXmV1MFanW7VWYjwkqaPYftpaXSTb3BwlmrOhbOtpwtEW1wxFK47TnT29Ptqdy6Q5r4jQaPUYo7GejXi463hqbUPzEaseZ6EaBrJlEkUc9-yew-9aLrOsBpcOp0SYv8/s400/moonlight_over_torcello.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382541752450008194" border="0" /></a>(Moonlight over Torcello)<br /></div>The out-lying islands of the Lagoon have been a revelation; many are now deserted and returned to nature, only just keeping their heads above water. Most had another incarnation during their history, from defensive strong posts, disease isolation hospitals, penal complexes to market gardens.<br />Torcello is a little gem of 20 inhabitants<span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">*</span> and some disturbingly, early-rising cockerels. In the 10th century it had a population of at least 10,000 people and was much more powerful than Venice but now it is fields with a path leading across the island from the <span style="font-style: italic;">vaporetti</span> stop past the <span style="font-style: italic;">Ponte del Diavolo</span>, or Devils Bridge to the Basilica of Santa Maria Assunta full of glorious Byzantine mosaics. What few moorings are available are located in the shadow of the Cathedral bell tower and completely deserted after the last <span style="font-style: italic;">vaporetti </span>leaves taking any sightseers with it. In the early morning one has the island to oneself to explore in eerie stillness, a rare treat and difficult to find elsewhere in Venice. By the side of the mooring is a beautifully laid out little vineyard, full of ancient statutes, the grapes appear to be a sweet (not tested but oh, so tempting) white variety, maybe used to make Vino Santo, a few bottles of which have found their way into my luggage for reminiscing over winter evenings. Torcello has a few smart restaurants along the island’s path, which only open for lunch to serve day-trippers and so we had to make our own supper onboard which was no hardship having stocked up with a few local delicacies such as <span style="font-style: italic;">Radicchio Treviso</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">Rossa Verona</span>, good both cooked and raw in salad and a selection of antipasti tasty treats like olives, sun dried tomatoes and baby artichokes. We also found the local wines sold from vast steel vats by the litre amazingly good quality especially as they cost only a one and half euros; we’re not going to starve or, for that matter, stay sober for long.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">*</span>I read it was about 60 but will happily give way to wikipedia’s collective knowledge.<br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Torcello">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Torcello </a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Ml5GgOKzinMyBM3uxY-ls6xbCILQRdL3zXxBFyE3Oq5tD8u8thfgOUm3RMhDBDZp5mvIo1R4boEtyjtgKVu5tDrHBm3GuaDXgbW4zNLCuLf8ejt9y6TWEgrLyVQCATAaTVLkJLb95Wh9/s1600-h/torcello-neighbour.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Ml5GgOKzinMyBM3uxY-ls6xbCILQRdL3zXxBFyE3Oq5tD8u8thfgOUm3RMhDBDZp5mvIo1R4boEtyjtgKVu5tDrHBm3GuaDXgbW4zNLCuLf8ejt9y6TWEgrLyVQCATAaTVLkJLb95Wh9/s400/torcello-neighbour.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382538677647002450" border="0" /></a>Our morning mooring neighbour<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp05EZ62nguhTi40MmF6nN_NoK_Tow0WbTIVLVrkkDdbAm7csoA9ug9XBV_ukHHz7n5WTtjq6HKSkLv_orZfbiBxqogW2tYHrM5y1Tn-0RcxPpuZC4TnA93wQiw1vtR7_R0YXLuFOdIXUN/s1600-h/well_appointed_Torcello.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp05EZ62nguhTi40MmF6nN_NoK_Tow0WbTIVLVrkkDdbAm7csoA9ug9XBV_ukHHz7n5WTtjq6HKSkLv_orZfbiBxqogW2tYHrM5y1Tn-0RcxPpuZC4TnA93wQiw1vtR7_R0YXLuFOdIXUN/s400/well_appointed_Torcello.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382538667308719282" border="0" /></a>Beautiful des-res on a tiny island opposite the Torcello mooring (with it's own heli-pad, definitely how the other half live!)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm7lu32J_JbfrADxLWT-ppxL1N_-S3QfavPhma6TTYUQAVsqnYIg_hcsfESQK2jRU2eB-Lfhwcnfg5TTuWtBTF6hjiy_3YPaIi9Koy9szwgQHxwnXKow5RBhOl2Ici1PHb0BCGiWbbNLK2/s1600-h/vino_santo_possibly.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm7lu32J_JbfrADxLWT-ppxL1N_-S3QfavPhma6TTYUQAVsqnYIg_hcsfESQK2jRU2eB-Lfhwcnfg5TTuWtBTF6hjiy_3YPaIi9Koy9szwgQHxwnXKow5RBhOl2Ici1PHb0BCGiWbbNLK2/s400/vino_santo_possibly.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382538660466010114" border="0" /></a>Vineyard next to mooring<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk-qNRjUyUoY9SrFdFTo846Zt-L2f3rZ7823IloAlT4J9GLTONNauJGB7lecbr21ClhLQ5UciAvXpCOLF0LaFp-jk_kszngxPyX9nh4gSDEmeOJ_V_X-ttf_W8cHKq1s8O1qLktOUOUpfj/s1600-h/burano_from_Torcello.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk-qNRjUyUoY9SrFdFTo846Zt-L2f3rZ7823IloAlT4J9GLTONNauJGB7lecbr21ClhLQ5UciAvXpCOLF0LaFp-jk_kszngxPyX9nh4gSDEmeOJ_V_X-ttf_W8cHKq1s8O1qLktOUOUpfj/s400/burano_from_Torcello.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382538653596602466" border="0" /></a>View of Burano from the top of the campanile of Basilica of Santa Maria Assunta<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKhAu_Hf4y7HQZ12soEN54bZfNodHr_Si_lmSMPqnBVkzG40KVdgmhcjZb-v9_7ylPhQgi3c28AyuwGJBCGUOyKrqUwA8SKTNTOUD-14SrNFiCy26G9FY53fFc7iqP9edvLHdEKh6e_Wgd/s1600-h/on_waking.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKhAu_Hf4y7HQZ12soEN54bZfNodHr_Si_lmSMPqnBVkzG40KVdgmhcjZb-v9_7ylPhQgi3c28AyuwGJBCGUOyKrqUwA8SKTNTOUD-14SrNFiCy26G9FY53fFc7iqP9edvLHdEKh6e_Wgd/s400/on_waking.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382540167616010946" border="0" /></a>The view on being rudely awoken by over zealous cockerels.<br /><div style="text-align: left;">To be continued, tomorrow, Sant'Erasmo and Vignole as we inch ourselves ever closer to Venice.<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-28477877389517348032009-09-17T02:25:00.007+01:002009-09-17T02:44:39.239+01:00A Slow Boat to Venice<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpDcBFBwgfdlb0YUUS6-VcSMXV4VtyTS6znxswVuOOXJ7q1ThysWrfmT9Ry6nJUxdELiUVFqVuQ1vmnBWmQQ5Smu-e6tG8pFfIN-qY24a671_xxm37LcfzN2_XgHP6vD1bunduBZkCr45j/s1600-h/entering_the_lagoon.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpDcBFBwgfdlb0YUUS6-VcSMXV4VtyTS6znxswVuOOXJ7q1ThysWrfmT9Ry6nJUxdELiUVFqVuQ1vmnBWmQQ5Smu-e6tG8pFfIN-qY24a671_xxm37LcfzN2_XgHP6vD1bunduBZkCr45j/s400/entering_the_lagoon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382243368280791122" border="0" /></a>In the past we have arrived in Venice through Marco Polo Airport or it’s railway station, this time the experience was fundamentally different. Although every new visit adds something to our conception and interpretation of this endlessly fascinating city, arriving by boat, slowly over a matter of days, will have a long-lasting effect on how I will forever perceive it’s nature. We came from the <span style="font-style: italic;">Fiume Sile</span> into the Lagoon, entering through the lock at Portegrandi, leaving behind the meandering reed-sided waterway to be exchanged for the brackish water channels sided by a low-lying, floating world of almost-terra firma islands. Passing fishing stations with their suspended nets still dangling the occasionally missed and now sun dried, silver sardine, we wind our way into the outlying channels of the Lagoon. From now on we navigate by <span style="font-style: italic;">bricola</span>, the three posted pine pilings, that act as sign posts and channel markers through out the lagoon, all are numbered and marked on nautical charts, and some have lights to make the channel boundaries visible at night. Our pace is wonderfully slow and mesmerizing, the sun beats down, the wind is with us and with only the occasional <span style="font-style: italic;">campanile</span> on some outlying island for reference, we glide imperceptibly closer to Torcello.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3yKE5bpo1SWQ5MjAlDZPfXgMwhf4IAmhmqgvdt2sWLKUI3MET-cCo7YHvTdzbeup4mY108-DyttUnb-H1bR2pTRDvHK_Lg6LQXKjxCG0TpVl8e6a3rwmE4otGsKqPoGeWJ5yN8SfEkx8I/s1600-h/speed_camera.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3yKE5bpo1SWQ5MjAlDZPfXgMwhf4IAmhmqgvdt2sWLKUI3MET-cCo7YHvTdzbeup4mY108-DyttUnb-H1bR2pTRDvHK_Lg6LQXKjxCG0TpVl8e6a3rwmE4otGsKqPoGeWJ5yN8SfEkx8I/s400/speed_camera.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382242239347936722" border="0" /></a>A speeding camera warning on a <span style="font-style: italic;">bricola</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijdokMRWq7FZjxBMtcPgvxj5kP5xZuFxYXxG0L9npUQWPw6x05VFckDdT51XgwUKCsXF4rcWsDOTRNTlmzsXMvrOQGtczyDrG8oFeoM3NQX0E6FlbSGvz5Usir55vZdXKvQbejXdKjf2Aa/s1600-h/early_evening.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijdokMRWq7FZjxBMtcPgvxj5kP5xZuFxYXxG0L9npUQWPw6x05VFckDdT51XgwUKCsXF4rcWsDOTRNTlmzsXMvrOQGtczyDrG8oFeoM3NQX0E6FlbSGvz5Usir55vZdXKvQbejXdKjf2Aa/s400/early_evening.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382241648387404626" border="0" /></a>Nearing our mooring<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwvpaueL5KitjME7vhjuEMJFxuBCi4zEyugCRSMfYfMojHEaiTYTv-7ksbvLnoGuha6C5zlBZLrz2ASd3BwAqBhgff90fi83GVDa3YRUJHoTuuHg3WUbVhHoFks0aQDpDIeEwSmqVAJgSA/s1600-h/evening_bob_bobbing.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwvpaueL5KitjME7vhjuEMJFxuBCi4zEyugCRSMfYfMojHEaiTYTv-7ksbvLnoGuha6C5zlBZLrz2ASd3BwAqBhgff90fi83GVDa3YRUJHoTuuHg3WUbVhHoFks0aQDpDIeEwSmqVAJgSA/s400/evening_bob_bobbing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382241644696515650" border="0" /></a>Bob-bobbing moored up on Torcello<br />To be continued........<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-80814805018971942002009-08-13T23:30:00.012+01:002009-08-14T09:37:10.316+01:00Mixed and Muddled Messages (and Sarah Palin)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtpM1lS-X2fDrk8WD00-fgHwFf0yOpBXfUjYaWIpXWcl6WqJzcv2McFkvuVX5XL6IgAHA8PYIH3Pnqen7GYX4T1cyPD6Vj2KjV-j93fWrj7DtBwi_BayFZ9ZRIMVTjG-VSsYziod9pGaGk/s1600-h/today-produce.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 277px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtpM1lS-X2fDrk8WD00-fgHwFf0yOpBXfUjYaWIpXWcl6WqJzcv2McFkvuVX5XL6IgAHA8PYIH3Pnqen7GYX4T1cyPD6Vj2KjV-j93fWrj7DtBwi_BayFZ9ZRIMVTjG-VSsYziod9pGaGk/s320/today-produce.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369579948817101458" border="0" /></a>It would be laudable to write a blog with a single theme, one coherent message, a dedication to a sole subject, but my life never seems to be that simple. Instead I am multi-tasking and I feel like some Earth Warrior Mother, a many-armed Durga with spade, ladle, watering can, basket and magic wand in hands. And, of course, because I have no time for myself, I’m waking each morning inspired with ideas, imaginative goals and creative projects so numerous, that if I don’t find a few minutes at least to write these down I’m going to have trouble even remembering them, never mind fulfilling them. I want to make collage, paint, photograph, read, explore but instead I must gather, preserve, dig, cut and cook. I start one job, only to be distracted by another and so on all day long until by bedtime (or more correctly blog-time) I’m surrounded by a maze of half completed tasks to unravel. And my mind is similarly tattered, hence rambling subjects here tonight. August for a self-sufficient dreamer is Hell!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-6OaTYNVmg5DaqbXp-31rpJ6BsmhO7dTdFZ57uXR0hkKI3X_v2KXt4S6pnf2c1CTGSGCnIMcfFRkgLNqUUBNMz_B-ORvv-EC1R5W-ElnbNZg7b2R_K2dflRbBW9YZ073eymGY4UTq7DdU/s1600-h/greenfriedtomatoes.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-6OaTYNVmg5DaqbXp-31rpJ6BsmhO7dTdFZ57uXR0hkKI3X_v2KXt4S6pnf2c1CTGSGCnIMcfFRkgLNqUUBNMz_B-ORvv-EC1R5W-ElnbNZg7b2R_K2dflRbBW9YZ073eymGY4UTq7DdU/s320/greenfriedtomatoes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369579972687604882" border="0" /></a>There is an expression in English, “to carry coals to Newcastle” this city being the main supplier in the 19th Century. In other words, a redundant enterprise and quite pointless. So blogging today’s lunch recipe of green fried tomatoes for my audience of mainly Americans would be the equivalent. Anyway, the Internet is fully loaded in this regard, or else, find the recipe at the back of Fannie Flagg’s book. But for anyone who hasn’t tried this Southern treat, I recommend it. Better than chips or French fries, but in that ballpark (to keep the analogy Stateside), certainly no diet food and better, just occasionally, for that. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg1HKd6F0WL0EpqEbuA0qLFUO_0h-M_oEVfkFfg2mBinxU_7pMUJbYACGj10t3cMk7Vt09GrcfCs-u2ES5W9CqgoP1bInVLbthwP8DGx8lYueY6hHIt9AIFIqG6TJPQ0EtFyPanYO_T2IB/s1600-h/potatoes.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 276px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg1HKd6F0WL0EpqEbuA0qLFUO_0h-M_oEVfkFfg2mBinxU_7pMUJbYACGj10t3cMk7Vt09GrcfCs-u2ES5W9CqgoP1bInVLbthwP8DGx8lYueY6hHIt9AIFIqG6TJPQ0EtFyPanYO_T2IB/s320/potatoes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369579963318495250" border="0" /></a>Is there anything more rewarding than upturning a barrel of new potatoes with it’s secret hoards spilling out into the previously concealed sunlight? I don’t think so. And then there’s the taste, heavenly. These are the moments for which one gives up all those painterly pursuits.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoRFSlBEOQnrTcp07mmDBW2SmgPw4GroGyou63LE9xafauQqobsvYJH7KfBq4M-6gB3ksNhNc_RVw3gcD9z01j5NtpAYE0JVDpO57y_muYf0jxrLs5mMeEQGkVOJ_tD4MGHu9eCUf1XJOL/s1600-h/herbs-and-beetroot.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoRFSlBEOQnrTcp07mmDBW2SmgPw4GroGyou63LE9xafauQqobsvYJH7KfBq4M-6gB3ksNhNc_RVw3gcD9z01j5NtpAYE0JVDpO57y_muYf0jxrLs5mMeEQGkVOJ_tD4MGHu9eCUf1XJOL/s320/herbs-and-beetroot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369579596035104786" border="0" /></a>See, there is another subject; Sage Elixia, see above in bottle, it will have to wait, another time.<br /><br />I’m so pleased that the British (and friends) have at last joined the debate to counteract the appalling propaganda by the American right on the National Health Service on Twitter <a href="http://twitter.com/#welovethenhs">#welovethenhs</a>. At last, some truth from the people who have first hand knowledge. I can’t express the disgust that has been prevalent this side of the pond in what has been argued by people like Sarah Palin and the others with axes to grind and vested interests to protect. This type of mis-information is closer to Stalin's reign of terror than a modern democracy. (as I speak <a href="http://twitter.com/#welovethenhs">#welovethenhs</a> is under attack from the right, spamming and swamping, they have a <span style="font-style: italic;">bot</span> in charge, one would like to think that a robot was all they could find to support the case, these people are really running scared!)<div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-21265978685773597722009-08-08T00:50:00.006+01:002009-08-08T01:33:58.405+01:00We Don’t Like Cricket, We Love It.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR0GTE-w3ypUsPdeF8W2vwdy1fmYpeXnBiRXN_o5sBqyaFzdDcHdZamN2veiDxn_pBs5SC-mMA0vagGYM-BHytRwdzUM4ueEoBadSpZOo5dyoHMGy_mppi6535Pgolz-WuiHxLNSLqpsIb/s1600-h/cricket.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 261px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR0GTE-w3ypUsPdeF8W2vwdy1fmYpeXnBiRXN_o5sBqyaFzdDcHdZamN2veiDxn_pBs5SC-mMA0vagGYM-BHytRwdzUM4ueEoBadSpZOo5dyoHMGy_mppi6535Pgolz-WuiHxLNSLqpsIb/s400/cricket.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367373573081115954" border="0" /></a><br />It’s high cricket season in England. BBC Radio’s <span style="font-style: italic;">Test Match Special</span> is heard at every turn when out and about, there are at least five radios tuned-in just in this house, in case we feel the urge to go from room to room, not one second will be lost on turning a switch or knob! With it’s the usual mix of ball-by-ball commentary, descriptions of pigeons on the pitch, cakes received and devoured, gigging and slurping, the effervescing Jonathan Agnew, or Aggers, whiles away the hours with humour and antidote between bouts of action for the duration of the five-day Test.<br />It’s culturally difficult to explain, but it has always been the theme tune to an English summer.<br />Tonight, BBC’s <span style="font-style: italic;">Newsnight</span> featured an article and a film from New York about how the police department there are using cricket to help improve relations with the city's ethnic minorities. Of course, the ‘public’ was asked what they knew of the game with the typical comments on the length of the game and the possibility of there being no result at the end. I guess it does take a deeper understanding to realise a draw IS sometimes a result (especially for England at Headingley this week, one fears!)<br />Much is made of the differences between baseball and cricket and how the American audience likes fast-paced games. I enjoy watching baseball and would love to attend a subway series, the closest thing to a Test match in endurance and I think the Yanks could learn to love cricket. The 20/20 game perhaps? After all, baseball is all statistics, nuances of pitch as in fast balls and sliders, telepathic fielding skills etc, so add into the mix, condition of ball (new ball is only offered after 80 overs and the crowd always returns it from the out field, no souvenirs here), how it turns under different cloud cover and humidity, how the pitch differs from ground to ground and during the match and don’t get me started on bowling, the permutations are almost endless. The Leg Spinner, the Yorker, the Flipper, the disguised <span class="whitetwenty">Googly and I'm only just breaking the surface here.</span> <a href="http://www.liveindia.com/cricket/Bowling.html">See More</a>. The truth is that the whole game has so many angles that five days is too short a time to witness them all. A lifetime is required! Surely you have to love any game that stops for tea and cucumber sandwiches?<div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-7212536160759342722009-08-06T22:26:00.015+01:002009-08-07T00:07:18.405+01:00Major Marshall’s Chutney: (Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end, but it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG42nFe8ZDT3fpdL6ybt0RkSp1FxChYaKuh3sQYMd4cXjfLPtBZj6RSnlyNzXTgpf5723hSkK9AzQkLDwL5KY6ELgbVS-GWyvqA90tDxnLGLCWjs1oCEMBnc0IOzL7aUPcG_KAVxmWWwnl/s1600-h/spices.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG42nFe8ZDT3fpdL6ybt0RkSp1FxChYaKuh3sQYMd4cXjfLPtBZj6RSnlyNzXTgpf5723hSkK9AzQkLDwL5KY6ELgbVS-GWyvqA90tDxnLGLCWjs1oCEMBnc0IOzL7aUPcG_KAVxmWWwnl/s400/spices.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366972262161515906" border="0" /></a><br />Each day this week we’ve hit the ground running, no early morning chats putting the world to rights over a leisurely cup of tea in bed, no checking over-night e.mails and responding, no singing in shower, just straight to work on the harvest. The last Early River’s plum chutney is made and it’s my personal favourite, Major Marshall’s Chutney. Slightly more Indian than Anglo-Indian, a touch of the Raj brought home, one imagines, by an officer suffering sub-continent gastronomic withdrawal, but with only English summer garden produce to hand and perhaps a campaign chest of spices.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgau_obKra6c1csWk_1OiOlW5YdWTSsw87Apdb1HkY1y2JckLkYfQ2DEHht89AZ-i61YSXBqES9lwR0ZglGvT9EkbgD7Jj-8t83t7xLAqMZLvCGkoam_8ACr33yb5GU3K8BWIg8CG2Gvg7C/s1600-h/faggot-of-spices.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgau_obKra6c1csWk_1OiOlW5YdWTSsw87Apdb1HkY1y2JckLkYfQ2DEHht89AZ-i61YSXBqES9lwR0ZglGvT9EkbgD7Jj-8t83t7xLAqMZLvCGkoam_8ACr33yb5GU3K8BWIg8CG2Gvg7C/s320/faggot-of-spices.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366971990545931794" border="0" /></a><br />Major Marshall’s Chutney<br /><br />6-8 lbs Plums stoned and halved<br />Pickling Spice (see below)<br />2 lbs red onions<br />2 lbs red tomatoes –skinned (green are good too –un-skinned)<br />1 ½ pints of red wine vinegar<br />2 lbs tart apples<br />1 lb dried apricots<br />1 lb golden syrup (one 450gms tin)<br />1½ lbs Demerara sugar<br />1-2 tablespoon tomato puree<br />6 tablespoons pickling salt<br /><br />Picking Spice<br />½ teaspoon anise seeds (optional)<br />10 allspice berries<br />1 teaspoon of dried garlic (or four or five whole fresh cloves)<br />6 thin slices of fresh fat ginger<br />6 bay leaves<br />8 green cardamoms roughly crushed<br />6 dried chillies or 2 teaspoons chilli powder<br />2 two inch lengths of rolled cinnamon<br />6 cloves<br />2 tablespoons coriander seeds<br />2 tablespoons dried methi (fenugreek leaves) optional but good<br />1 teaspoon fennel seeds<br />2 whole mace blades<br />2 teaspoons mustard seeds<br />15-20 mixed peppercorns<br />Muslin to wrap all the spices and tie in a bundle (faggot or bouquet garnis)<br /><br />Mince the onions, tomatoes and apples in blender to rough chop. Mince the apricots to fine chop. Add all the fruit to very large pickling pot or kettle and add rest of ingredients. Add spices in muslin faggot. Cook on moderate heat until well-reduced and makes a furrow on the surface with a wooden spoon. You may need to check spicing for heat and strength and remove faggot when personal taste has been acheived. Bottle in sterilised jars. Ready immediately if you, like me, can’t resist, but will age nicely for months to come and only get better. Good with everything!<br />I’m afraid the rest of the story is in pictures only until I have time to write with poise, I leave you caught red handed!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpgUwGZEYeaPaDDf7ilH2yV3JEiWdOPRsZYvyzNJw-D_364D2ZtqMNk9hP_xQaffCTtPdbCOpMBXD4sFtt-QCd1TUUfPWjQxFGa6UJV22tLatuBUmmW9z1qc-kUfSxgo0Y6LTg54UPtcy1/s1600-h/jam-shop.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpgUwGZEYeaPaDDf7ilH2yV3JEiWdOPRsZYvyzNJw-D_364D2ZtqMNk9hP_xQaffCTtPdbCOpMBXD4sFtt-QCd1TUUfPWjQxFGa6UJV22tLatuBUmmW9z1qc-kUfSxgo0Y6LTg54UPtcy1/s320/jam-shop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366971792940806914" border="0" /></a><br />Enough to start my own shop?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgget_acTg7zN7ItUu2spMrKYA3JvtkIWmocoANpi8MuONeur8q1G3mUmJgNBO0rH9uFTIcEr1Vn8gw57XBkXv59np418CWTbxsq28sn5e1snuXsI8C2KFmir7WyAQxhdqyjPH4_u7o3wZ6/s1600-h/plum-jam.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgget_acTg7zN7ItUu2spMrKYA3JvtkIWmocoANpi8MuONeur8q1G3mUmJgNBO0rH9uFTIcEr1Vn8gw57XBkXv59np418CWTbxsq28sn5e1snuXsI8C2KFmir7WyAQxhdqyjPH4_u7o3wZ6/s320/plum-jam.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366971623959817682" border="0" /></a><br />Plum Jam on the go.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyf8QujxFU3VqnkWM-gXiEiRTBUM7TbasVK5Elg0TSOriHtMO81nK6Kyeo0inNBxNYc4uDQLQR6TzL-IqO7VW5CjIKMcoO60v_bGzAoI8A3s3bXMS-SMOPnH8cBwFvJmSvOMg57pAI3YJD/s1600-h/fermenting-plum.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyf8QujxFU3VqnkWM-gXiEiRTBUM7TbasVK5Elg0TSOriHtMO81nK6Kyeo0inNBxNYc4uDQLQR6TzL-IqO7VW5CjIKMcoO60v_bGzAoI8A3s3bXMS-SMOPnH8cBwFvJmSvOMg57pAI3YJD/s320/fermenting-plum.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366971145506857746" border="0" /></a><br />Plum Wine starting to ferment.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmbNBe32oDVfP9vBjSM6h01DJc7X96Nwtz64gJxfCSSdYTUownjPIn0Ef6fVxREDZbuCL8CbxjKRxJGThNPwEzU25k4CLcm8MWbBM9Ip9CJTPrWkLXCbJO_OoAEh_seISLTgQbiNQqdPFO/s1600-h/early-transparent-gage.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmbNBe32oDVfP9vBjSM6h01DJc7X96Nwtz64gJxfCSSdYTUownjPIn0Ef6fVxREDZbuCL8CbxjKRxJGThNPwEzU25k4CLcm8MWbBM9Ip9CJTPrWkLXCbJO_OoAEh_seISLTgQbiNQqdPFO/s320/early-transparent-gage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366970882161136898" border="0" /></a><br />Early Transparent Gages - next on the list!<div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-85500005962867505472009-08-01T01:49:00.012+01:002009-08-01T11:30:55.660+01:00Plum-full of Plums<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh5-fCwmsTnaez8XLB4bFcAl3AwF206UoISaqWbpf_x-hRJZqn1gWF-lG9mkWNwbeVeGrc3QIPM5LFEr-PonS55leMxq-r7BXL81b0ns7y0eZDs6XhaS2syQjptEHWRqsi_Jl3gCK0xbIN/s1600-h/busy-bee.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh5-fCwmsTnaez8XLB4bFcAl3AwF206UoISaqWbpf_x-hRJZqn1gWF-lG9mkWNwbeVeGrc3QIPM5LFEr-PonS55leMxq-r7BXL81b0ns7y0eZDs6XhaS2syQjptEHWRqsi_Jl3gCK0xbIN/s400/busy-bee.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364792288141165970" border="0" /></a><br />Another day at the plum-face, the kids returned and were immediately sent down the mines, where they picked, shoveled and carted the red gold, working alongside the nearby bees and butterflies harvesting their own winter fuel. Many hands made littler work and by nightfall we had 60lbs weighed up, halved, mashed and ready to ferment. Unfortunately, this seems not to have made the smallest dent on the quantity still available on the tree. Is this some sort of endless ‘Jack and Beanstalk’ trick? The kids have a gig tomorrow night, so sadly, no more child (-ish) labour available, a shame we had a laugh, helped along by last year's plum wine laced with brandy, wild stories and dirty jokes. I’m fast running out of plumy ideas and recipes. May have to advertise for takers.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8jCSHXnRkMy5qRXtnAEKzyNftulE7u6YO6wxzjB_dub2YMaZi6gH8f8_1mUSqI0yZ-Op17vnyISvg3VBLBRHp9bpR7LZHLVkFkd3Po9sIdlSrnOcS0vo0Lg1A4yF5uzT_AW4jUnvniBIU/s1600-h/plums.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8jCSHXnRkMy5qRXtnAEKzyNftulE7u6YO6wxzjB_dub2YMaZi6gH8f8_1mUSqI0yZ-Op17vnyISvg3VBLBRHp9bpR7LZHLVkFkd3Po9sIdlSrnOcS0vo0Lg1A4yF5uzT_AW4jUnvniBIU/s320/plums.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364792113887475026" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggYrjMErmhls2LvzIn8erhxmQRGVdxEydawl-YU7dE1k98qb2FOFMBxM-UiWcXXxTIHyYq847-_6fsusKrAOeHjdHLrFiZqUOZ5ODwlsdYgPnVUpMNPsL2Kgs24iDpXl55dYqAjBpU5hHN/s1600-h/plum-tree.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggYrjMErmhls2LvzIn8erhxmQRGVdxEydawl-YU7dE1k98qb2FOFMBxM-UiWcXXxTIHyYq847-_6fsusKrAOeHjdHLrFiZqUOZ5ODwlsdYgPnVUpMNPsL2Kgs24iDpXl55dYqAjBpU5hHN/s320/plum-tree.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364791878618792514" border="0" /></a><br />Escaped the conveyor belt production line and came up for air just long enough to cook beautiful borlotti beans and pasta feast for the comrade workers.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr3l7WKmKG_i5kBf-PLstv6IeDaqq14zkLNg8np4iL9dxQjWVqdzr0ejwxaYKwLT9cXT-krhgDvZqxEUMMdzp2ze2wmqDOkhZfsbDswhfyp9yZJTneS5zwTH4bHq_whRaYdGPnUWJEGZlw/s1600-h/bolotti.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr3l7WKmKG_i5kBf-PLstv6IeDaqq14zkLNg8np4iL9dxQjWVqdzr0ejwxaYKwLT9cXT-krhgDvZqxEUMMdzp2ze2wmqDOkhZfsbDswhfyp9yZJTneS5zwTH4bHq_whRaYdGPnUWJEGZlw/s320/bolotti.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364791673346455730" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-32708609670501339722009-07-30T22:20:00.008+01:002009-07-31T11:03:57.090+01:00Tuscan Plum Tart and Other Miscellaneous Plum Madness<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXmW5E23urIf2X_DElsYhBfGuQyPyb-1wHSG1veRqfGV7mc-Ae6-jHE9JMBHiuvWVnaPB5qw3M85tYudUREPUOz4HyEKqgVSR4f8dQFdJWBcVbMKrmqjeR6pa_S_KiaeLu_DJEu_FlorBg/s1600-h/Tuscan-Plum-Tart-.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 369px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXmW5E23urIf2X_DElsYhBfGuQyPyb-1wHSG1veRqfGV7mc-Ae6-jHE9JMBHiuvWVnaPB5qw3M85tYudUREPUOz4HyEKqgVSR4f8dQFdJWBcVbMKrmqjeR6pa_S_KiaeLu_DJEu_FlorBg/s400/Tuscan-Plum-Tart-.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364367349244267026" border="0" /></a><br />I’m almost too tired to type. So far this ‘Early River’s Prolific Week’ I have made 20 lbs of 62% fruit/38% sugar Plum Jam, five litres of Plum Gin, 30 bottles of Old Dower House Plum Chutney, 20 bottles of Old Fashioned Plum and Beetroot Chutney, three Tuscan Plum Tarts, hence this post. I’ve been asked to publish this recipe, went down a storm at L’s birthday picnic last weekend.<br /><br />Tuscan Plum Tart (taken from Darina Allan’s Ballymaloe Cookery Course)<br /><br />7-10 oz sugar<br />4-5 fl oz water (I use Plum Wine but water is fine)<br /><br />2lbs Plums<br />5 oz soft butter<br />5 oz vanilla sugar (homemade is cheaper and easy) or plain sugar will happily do<br />8 oz self-raising flour<br />3 free-range eggs<br /><br />one 10inch sauté pan or cast-iron frying pan<br /><br />Preheat oven to 170c/325F/Gas 3<br />Put sugar and water into pan and boil over medium heat to caramelise until golden. Leave to cool and set.<br /><br />Halve and stone plums and lay cut side on set and cool caramel in a single tight layer.<br /><br />Put butter, vanilla sugar, flour into mixer and wiz, add eggs and stop as soon as smooth. Spoon over plums evenly.<br /><br />Bake carefully for an hour, testing centre for firmness, sides should shrink a little from edge of pan. Cool for 4-5 minutes, invert onto plate. (I sometimes prick the sponge through the plum stickiness and drizzle with a spoonful or two of Plum Gin for extra yumminess). Finish, enjoy!<br /><br />Tomorrow, it’s Plum Wine Day, another 60 lbs to stone for 20 litres of wine. (Thank God ‘River’s’ is a free stone). Two more heavily laden gage trees to go.<br />Below, Blackberry and Black Peppermint Sorbet freezer bound and bottles and sugar queuing up for processing by the kitchen door.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlpTdI_6GoF5c_IidDwOhBug0Kcfpyu-B4D2BEd-m8h9GlfOsk_htlg7hgMKU_SHIVMaF5DJ4X3f26v9rKmHx8I9z9GPJdpi7LtbgU0adWcIMOtmIl7G4gJzcJOPB7-0qGcB7o9tcDekIR/s1600-h/blackberry-and-peppermint-s.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlpTdI_6GoF5c_IidDwOhBug0Kcfpyu-B4D2BEd-m8h9GlfOsk_htlg7hgMKU_SHIVMaF5DJ4X3f26v9rKmHx8I9z9GPJdpi7LtbgU0adWcIMOtmIl7G4gJzcJOPB7-0qGcB7o9tcDekIR/s320/blackberry-and-peppermint-s.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364366556225763730" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho4ZGQEdPJRUcHhmJ1l47cYgyy7P7wyL3YK2D5RQzY87EvgZxhuEzLOoFvXqABcAoAEog2xUCp67LRkSTnPAfvByfd-IdQwPgg0DY4H_oXO00dg1R3Ofo-nee0rL3HM3OZk7DzZB3JmgLf/s1600-h/Sugar-and-pots.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 247px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho4ZGQEdPJRUcHhmJ1l47cYgyy7P7wyL3YK2D5RQzY87EvgZxhuEzLOoFvXqABcAoAEog2xUCp67LRkSTnPAfvByfd-IdQwPgg0DY4H_oXO00dg1R3Ofo-nee0rL3HM3OZk7DzZB3JmgLf/s320/Sugar-and-pots.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364366682645534194" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-70730578336613574292009-07-21T14:14:00.007+01:002009-07-21T19:32:18.390+01:00Tea and No Sympathy<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF1rgLLoOiOmkv_i74S-VHcdYapzsUJe3PLHvI5q1uFFckUqR08azQmqQWWBx9gwQB4StXA3cAe7SEF-064XvsFeZkWSDUmmW3VL2595vIgyHBQOtPt0oPCBSSDL4VKGdEpi2lkfDuNXX9/s1600-h/Akemi-pastel.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 293px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF1rgLLoOiOmkv_i74S-VHcdYapzsUJe3PLHvI5q1uFFckUqR08azQmqQWWBx9gwQB4StXA3cAe7SEF-064XvsFeZkWSDUmmW3VL2595vIgyHBQOtPt0oPCBSSDL4VKGdEpi2lkfDuNXX9/s400/Akemi-pastel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360901328127963426" border="0" /></a><br />Two pastel drawings from Saturday’s CHADO /Japanese Tea drawing day with Akemi Solloway. Our classes are always so enjoyable, not only for the art practice but primarily for the fantastic company, we’re a lively and interesting group. Akemi was not only a good model but also most interesting about her culture and country. Shame I mangled her hands in the above drawing, but you live and learn. The quick 3 x 10 minutes sketches more successful as always, no time to over work the drawing. Added a little collage material from some origami papers I had lying around instead of trying to reproduce the beauty of the kimono.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOEO6MDaVY37gx5WS4KCrZ-Iik0ZdVRJe5c7iVbT4WJnMskhfqpYWIHFCUu9mBOSVLrmS_xjO9AfZ4n-Ukwj9XD8ZkYjjVRmH7nPLYqhnhzNjR68tolgZ44RULTtWGEA3HX7K2ao5b1AoB/s1600-h/3-x-10-mins.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOEO6MDaVY37gx5WS4KCrZ-Iik0ZdVRJe5c7iVbT4WJnMskhfqpYWIHFCUu9mBOSVLrmS_xjO9AfZ4n-Ukwj9XD8ZkYjjVRmH7nPLYqhnhzNjR68tolgZ44RULTtWGEA3HX7K2ao5b1AoB/s400/3-x-10-mins.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360901324523807554" border="0" /></a><br />As always, this is the time for artists to open their studios or grab an exhibition space for their annual show. One of our group has built himself a cleverly designed studio at the bottom of his garden but it’s certainly no garden shed.<br />I returned home inspired by the work on the wall and the studio itself and asked Nick if he wouldn’t mind building me such a desirable workspace.<br />“So, that’s an allotment shed, a yoga/meditation pagoda, a fruit cage and now a studio, I might just build you a cage, you can draw and meditate in that!”<br />Demanding, moi? It is his own fault and a complement to him that I believe he can just about make anything, I’m the divine inspiration, and he’s the oily rag ;-)!<br />I have always been drawn to handmade buildings. I have a great little book called <span style="font-style: italic;">Handmade Houses: A Guide to the Woodbutcher’s Art</span>, very much a product of the San Francisco hippy movement of the late 60’s early 70’s. Written by Art Boericke, (himself, what he calls a ‘ticky-tacky’ builder) and photos by Barry Sharpiro, one of which I have reproduced below showing you where I got the idea for my meditation pagoda all those years ago. Unfortunately, still no manifestation.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje7SMxpdJMjECD3dbwwWHlFV1MQZGId4LwcIAi4ZcOPLSopkKAlkfcU5_eZZA9ke6TOg-UUlLGRUD6TLIRf-GXBZQUK5PDQEidAiNMPgLLf-drMQ8LkWKTLm3dMCsTRuPZx9A3m5CuUE0r/s1600-h/meditation.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 394px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje7SMxpdJMjECD3dbwwWHlFV1MQZGId4LwcIAi4ZcOPLSopkKAlkfcU5_eZZA9ke6TOg-UUlLGRUD6TLIRf-GXBZQUK5PDQEidAiNMPgLLf-drMQ8LkWKTLm3dMCsTRuPZx9A3m5CuUE0r/s400/meditation.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360901316699885106" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-26030527067621141372009-07-17T23:13:00.006+01:002009-07-18T09:11:13.449+01:00The Plum of Life - Sweeter the Older it Grows<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXFQctcxn1jGuKIzx93vbNtYotJ9dKFZdXDFR6PLKNGeo_Mu-IdK7EGztGntXXPM3W0csAindR9072WMmEXm9bLBpAKyOC5i0PIjOgJR_XOpJdEA1OZX5gUpqPe-cq7EevffB-bX9PIBIH/s1600-h/plums.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXFQctcxn1jGuKIzx93vbNtYotJ9dKFZdXDFR6PLKNGeo_Mu-IdK7EGztGntXXPM3W0csAindR9072WMmEXm9bLBpAKyOC5i0PIjOgJR_XOpJdEA1OZX5gUpqPe-cq7EevffB-bX9PIBIH/s400/plums.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359556117031817618" border="0" /></a><br />It’s been a strange week. Swine flu is sweeping London, sadly with more fatalities than expected, which puts in mind questions of life and death, making the most of what one has, maybe even daring to think of precious times one can lose. It’s also been a week for looking back, I fear I might be the last person on earth to discover Friends Reunited and in doing so, and at last being reunited, I feel some things never change, for instance, I seem to still be bucking authority, will I never grow up, and do I really want to?<br />Tonight we consoled ourselves with fine wine and dining, fiddling as Paris burns perhaps (coincidently, Dan ‘s combo is called Nero, I must suggest this as an upcoming album title!).<br /><br />This recipe uses everything fresh and seasonal from the garden.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Duck Legs with Drunken Plums</span><br />Tablespoon of olive oil<br />1 teaspoon of balsamic vinegar<br />4 large duck legs<br />2 ounces of speck /pancetta<br />2 tablespoons of minced herbs : rosemary, sage, thyme and winter savory if available.<br />2 teaspoons of herb salt (homemade mix of celery seed, lovage seed and fennel seed ground in a little salt is good)<br />12 new shallots<br />2 small new leeks<br />12 large juicy plums<br />1 bay leaf<br />2 cups of Prosecco or dry wine wine<br />1 shot of Brandy or Grappa<br />1 cup of chicken stock<br /><br />Marinade the skinned and de-tendoned (is that a word?) legs in a mix of oil, vinegar, herbs and herb salt for a day. Fry speck, shallots, and leeks carefully not to brown too much, followed by the drained and dried legs. Remove and keep warm. Deglaze with the strained marinade, brandy and wine. Add chicken stock and return duck and vegetables to the pot adding plums. Cook in very slow oven for two to three hours. Enjoy (while you still can!) with Barolo or a nice Barbera D'Asti and a side of podded baby broad beans. Wishing you all good health in these infectious times.<br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />Above plum 'Early Rivers' photo taken two or three weeks ago. Early Rivers (Rivers' Early Prolific) is a small, deep purple skinned plum with a golden-yellow coloured flesh. It has a very rich flavour, and can be used for both eating and cooking, making an excellent flavoured jam. The plum can be a little sharp early in the season, but as it becomes very ripe it becomes very sweet.<br />Raised in Sawbridgeworth, first introduced in 1830<br /></span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"></span></span></span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTkHhSF6sSCcQAaw7toxuQoJpDUu3ZJKdLAn48V23pQnSlsZ3LfmzctF0bbgmpQ4ex4MuqWXfV1_0yor12_Xe9duOuuYRuwWZf7EE1E3NuN_U-m9Df5rAES_SfvdOH3Psnli8RrrGARE-o/s1600-h/ducklegs.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTkHhSF6sSCcQAaw7toxuQoJpDUu3ZJKdLAn48V23pQnSlsZ3LfmzctF0bbgmpQ4ex4MuqWXfV1_0yor12_Xe9duOuuYRuwWZf7EE1E3NuN_U-m9Df5rAES_SfvdOH3Psnli8RrrGARE-o/s400/ducklegs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359556110357581026" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-79379224566867265682009-07-03T22:25:00.020+01:002009-07-04T18:21:29.800+01:00Oh to be in England now that fruit time’s here.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWOKxAfJHf1pb3ewSmcTo_pGkfBLWogPTFdCbx5jro4iLeRbl_yWwTVt2gmhiwTRJfMpbGNL-Aim1HiJO6-NKbXYs4suBnFg3wzNxfyFwhghsxBXp7UCCBm8kGn9Qcd6Hqepx4RvHpvhqT/s1600-h/ashmead's-kernal.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWOKxAfJHf1pb3ewSmcTo_pGkfBLWogPTFdCbx5jro4iLeRbl_yWwTVt2gmhiwTRJfMpbGNL-Aim1HiJO6-NKbXYs4suBnFg3wzNxfyFwhghsxBXp7UCCBm8kGn9Qcd6Hqepx4RvHpvhqT/s400/ashmead's-kernal.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354349434964400322" border="0" /></a><br />While the populous prepares for summer holidays abroad; sweetness abounds in the kitchen gardens and allotments of England. It’s fruit time and whether it is our climate or latitude, lack of distance traveled or old varieties grown, there is nothing like it available though out the year from the supermarket. Soon, I will wake each morning and tipsy-toe through the dewy orchard grass to pick my breakfast apple. Firstly, in August, the early super-sweet Worcester-types of <span style="font-style: italic;">Discovery</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">Pearmain,</span> then later the sub-sweet and crispy <span style="font-style: italic;">Laxton's Superb </span>and <span style="font-style: italic;">Ashmead's Kernal</span> (developing nicely above) and as the earth grows cooler under foot the strongly individual <span style="font-style: italic;">Pitmaston Pine Apple</span>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxgNImQ1YWQkg5uSrNh3jMKGRrpOObg9TeRlYZlwyFsdPX22mmX-THqNnrylGspzz-xNjaj40k5eE7eXprNLVAH-l23J0fLqbo7qRsF2LmfFaOObV1JXhDq_fgidzVqZe2n3YRBsCnm3Ih/s1600-h/gooseberries.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxgNImQ1YWQkg5uSrNh3jMKGRrpOObg9TeRlYZlwyFsdPX22mmX-THqNnrylGspzz-xNjaj40k5eE7eXprNLVAH-l23J0fLqbo7qRsF2LmfFaOObV1JXhDq_fgidzVqZe2n3YRBsCnm3Ih/s320/gooseberries.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354349051582602242" border="0" /></a><br />July brings abundant soft fruit. I grow five varieties of gooseberries and have inherited a jostaberry patch (a cross between a gooseberry and a black currant) at the allotment. I start thinning by picking in June, allowing these early sour fruits to be used for preserves and stewed for dessert concoctions. Sweet pickled green gooseberries are wonderful with lamb. My family and friends are all too familiar with my favourite leg of lamb recipe, <span style="font-style: italic;">La Coscia della Sposa</span> or the Bride’s Thigh, a marathon of three day marinating and massaging (hence the bride's thigh), short wood smoking and slow cooking resulting in butter-tender, aromatic meat, which I serve with said gooseberries and a rich meaty redcurrant gravy. An easy (ish) version of this recipe can be found in Marlena De Blasi’s <span style="font-style: italic;">Regional Foods of Southern Italy</span>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglXWTheIicMOEHglavlgeePdraNmZIjEHtDk5PGyrFh3zZ_g3RMAas2ed7YQtLZiojRJJQfyoQT4_GXbMTGlup4bkPPDHRke58QrD5qePe_3ziSsnFRcR6_PUbqwIfyYB1XguyTTWWNRL4/s1600-h/redcurrant.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglXWTheIicMOEHglavlgeePdraNmZIjEHtDk5PGyrFh3zZ_g3RMAas2ed7YQtLZiojRJJQfyoQT4_GXbMTGlup4bkPPDHRke58QrD5qePe_3ziSsnFRcR6_PUbqwIfyYB1XguyTTWWNRL4/s320/redcurrant.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354349050870025618" border="0" /></a><br />I had the fortune, in the allotment stakes, to be neighbours with Jack, a brilliant and intuitive vegetable gardener, who grows the most delicious currants, and who slightly madly doesn’t like to eat them! His loss is my bonanza through his generosity. He is great company, a good teacher of technique and his fennel is the best, succulent and delicious. Using his raspberries, I made the sorbet recipe below, Jack: “you have them, I don’t like the pips” I’ll make him some High Summer Fruit Spreading Jelly in return, recipe below.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghtcy5rtR3lhm4WkVDeDCS7JhdHvXsEphdckOgHAVb6Cyajy7OBK4OhNBv0HDqB5zAx0x-wKdrbgZv316g6ZuI6wPvvoWM_eHCR1yMAGZ3tX_xuK88zpGusYUg4fEqztYivGKh5WSO35q9/s1600-h/barr's.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghtcy5rtR3lhm4WkVDeDCS7JhdHvXsEphdckOgHAVb6Cyajy7OBK4OhNBv0HDqB5zAx0x-wKdrbgZv316g6ZuI6wPvvoWM_eHCR1yMAGZ3tX_xuK88zpGusYUg4fEqztYivGKh5WSO35q9/s320/barr's.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354349042056879298" border="0" /></a><br />As a child, summer meant ‘pop’ through a straw. Both of the following recipes include small amounts of pop instead of water, because I find they impart that summer taste from childhood. I can’t drink modern pops, too sweet, surely the sugar industry has been lobbying the drinks companies, or is it my imagination that these lovable nectars have become ultra sticky since my 1950’s memories.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsN7-LZEYF2je9DQ6cHEe2uJ6bQYiWpN_sf249AkncPKydJ1vsd-kXI8B9RzcODWJcvDSpbSwV8qZ-EysOyFJVNN1KpDn1Jg1eASj9QNwAGmYAncW3dNhEU082vRg5R1lCXskSsJxEV-sW/s1600-h/cider.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsN7-LZEYF2je9DQ6cHEe2uJ6bQYiWpN_sf249AkncPKydJ1vsd-kXI8B9RzcODWJcvDSpbSwV8qZ-EysOyFJVNN1KpDn1Jg1eASj9QNwAGmYAncW3dNhEU082vRg5R1lCXskSsJxEV-sW/s320/cider.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354349045521789714" border="0" /></a><br />Finally, a quick mention of fruit alcohol, as it is tasting time for the 2008 brews. Last year I made cider for the first time and then promptly forgot about it, a good move as it turns out. While entertaining some cider-loving friends from Devon, I remembered the bottles and our guests were impressed by it’s quality, ( here I'm pausing to puff my chest out with pride) it's complexity and (get this) it's sophisicated taste. I just wish I could remember how I made it! We have also been polishing off the 2008 Merlot, not a keeping year as the fruit never developed the sweetness required, but easily quaffable.<br /><br />By the way, an apology, my recipes are always in mixed measurements, metric, imperial and the useful American cup, can never decide on just one unit which must make following both frustrating and infuriating!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Raspberry Sorbet</span><br />One kilo soft ripe raspberries<br />One cup of Barr’s Soda Cream With A Twist Of Raspberry<br />Poach very ripe raspberries until they turn to juice.<br />Add two tablespoons of Cassis or Kircsh to the well-sieved liquor<br />Pour into ice cream churner. Refrigerate.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">High Summer Fruit Bread and Butter Jelly</span><br />Half a kilo very ripe raspberries<br />Half a kilo red and white currants<br />Half a kilo mixed other red juicy summer fruits (I used ripe cherries, gooseberries, plums, jostaberries and strawberries)<br />Two cups of Barr’s Dandelion and Burdock<br />Two large leaves of Borage<br />One teaspoon raspberry balsamic (optional)<br />Poach all the above ingredients (except balsamic) until all turns to juice. Turn into jelly bag and strain (don’t be tempted to squeeze bag) Measure liquor (should be about a litre) and add sugar to taste (approx 12/14 ozs ie 60% fruit juice to 40% sugar depending on sweetness of fruit for a sweet/acid balance) Add balsamic. Bring to a rolling boil for a minute or two. This should reach setting point within that time due to the lack of water used. Bottle in sterilised jars. Spread on real bread and butter. Enjoy, sitting out under blue skies.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRktcIqapS1IZ7HvdRzRCFBbn5yytYZ-TKOyh9mKhYBf6j7WyFXX7yfTc6fD1CXKtt7qaJsJHoMij1UmPHwCyCoU-ye00mtXQIHV3KZIH9VHy7Bg7xdwV6s9Aaj4pIxQkQAhIe2Cl4nZYD/s1600-h/terrace.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRktcIqapS1IZ7HvdRzRCFBbn5yytYZ-TKOyh9mKhYBf6j7WyFXX7yfTc6fD1CXKtt7qaJsJHoMij1UmPHwCyCoU-ye00mtXQIHV3KZIH9VHy7Bg7xdwV6s9Aaj4pIxQkQAhIe2Cl4nZYD/s320/terrace.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354355678864813714" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-73187929773627003752009-06-29T16:29:00.010+01:002009-06-30T06:47:44.879+01:00The No-Mow Lawn<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6v57QZISP9nh68mt37pFckbCnLLjUEwlTKCjaXZqc4JNL6UJ_6gz1UT6y6TCKYnM2CQm4ceg3VB9tWtrX7_2A73e2ipwF4LQ4eEnjmPqqE16SQ4hL9utEwxCSuFwWyTmAvWGyBQdYP1IJ/s1600-h/lawn.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 282px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6v57QZISP9nh68mt37pFckbCnLLjUEwlTKCjaXZqc4JNL6UJ_6gz1UT6y6TCKYnM2CQm4ceg3VB9tWtrX7_2A73e2ipwF4LQ4eEnjmPqqE16SQ4hL9utEwxCSuFwWyTmAvWGyBQdYP1IJ/s320/lawn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352772687776718482" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGLSFHGzmf7AliAzdqUq_R1mlfs8No7FxIQFTctOtQrvx1j0yvi2Q4-v_7hgI3BKNkM-ETp3ZsSmPBwFEMVbbUvyedZz3FC1xqZy9Pb8vZZa7wl9yfoZwzjMWDcaLul0bhm5e5zAW3oUlz/s1600-h/lawn2.jpg"> <img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGLSFHGzmf7AliAzdqUq_R1mlfs8No7FxIQFTctOtQrvx1j0yvi2Q4-v_7hgI3BKNkM-ETp3ZsSmPBwFEMVbbUvyedZz3FC1xqZy9Pb8vZZa7wl9yfoZwzjMWDcaLul0bhm5e5zAW3oUlz/s320/lawn2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352772674683840850" border="0" /></a><br />There are certain times of the year when we take a break from mowing. In Spring when the bulbs are flowering under the orchard we mow meandering paths through the lush glass and nodding heads of daffodils. Then it's full stream ahead with our lithium battery mower until the end of May, while the grass grows as fast as the blades can whirl. If we are lucky to experience a hot and dry June like this year, we retire to the terrace with the cocktail shaker and admire the lawn weeds, that come into flower under the baking sun. <span><span><span><span style="font-size:100%;">Bird's-foot-trefoil, red and white clover, hardy geraniums, ox-eye daisies, self-heal, wild thyme, speedwell, scarlet pimpernel, harebell, willow herb, lady's mantle, everlasting pea, red champion and ragged robin have all made our lawn less grass more meadow. In fact everything a well kept lawn shouldn't be, but the bees love it and so we excuse ourselves on their behalf!</span></span></span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglrBi55-iJjTL9CsKtBNOlyaI68qKPUxIlc6d8jK1OP7QIldI5gAwXfTrdE-M4ERfYPbx_sXkMZ0c12zJRc47uH2KnKap3mRIqYn2XB5ck5Lky9-EFuEKDUqD2d8453sMHKG6rhLmk8Ynh/s1600-h/orchard-floor.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglrBi55-iJjTL9CsKtBNOlyaI68qKPUxIlc6d8jK1OP7QIldI5gAwXfTrdE-M4ERfYPbx_sXkMZ0c12zJRc47uH2KnKap3mRIqYn2XB5ck5Lky9-EFuEKDUqD2d8453sMHKG6rhLmk8Ynh/s320/orchard-floor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352772681710787874" border="0" /></a><br /><h2 style="font-weight: normal;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjILz_4ix5c3Mdha4H7g4fHufnCvGf8Ls_cx1IxaELSZvz75P01n_qOWGNRwRnV_X-IRPjXgDh7BNAx3_ZiZXPD07Q_Q8IdgD5pplqw5Y5MKAqgcJ5opmkhDG2IqEkL4knpferFSPQ1QBV7/s1600-h/nick-tending-vines.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 246px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjILz_4ix5c3Mdha4H7g4fHufnCvGf8Ls_cx1IxaELSZvz75P01n_qOWGNRwRnV_X-IRPjXgDh7BNAx3_ZiZXPD07Q_Q8IdgD5pplqw5Y5MKAqgcJ5opmkhDG2IqEkL4knpferFSPQ1QBV7/s320/nick-tending-vines.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352772683320647602" border="0" /></a><br /></h2>Soft fruit blog soon, along with the best Raspberry Sorbet recipe ever, a promise! One added benefit to a no-mow lawn, Nick has time to manicure the vines. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl9k_cpbzsVdR0mBlIjiaKuYhDxBi6KUZkLOyrNPARW5SCbh05xej_HhE2MSbbOiKA1Fild9NnH6yynPCvocIRxThfmMi9ZCCPTypkksj8vOtADs6gFcGvPM4TBU7y0gzWDMdblBNzDmSi/s1600-h/ashmead's-kernal.jpg"><br /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-85863273539583745342009-06-27T21:15:00.007+01:002009-06-27T21:57:27.663+01:00Glastonbury Via Woodstock, Goodbye LondonA good year to be there. With a stunning performance from Neil Young last night and Crosby, Nash and Stills today, what treats! It goes an old hippie's heart good! My new chum Luke Jackson sent me a great video today, a fine piece of animation, and music's not bad either! While I was studying computer animation 15 years ago, when digital imaging was still in it's infancy , I learnt the importance (and difficulty) of good lip sync and I think this illustrates it well. Enjoy!<br /><br /><object height="243" width="400"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/o8nrDz1xNFE&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/o8nrDz1xNFE&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="243" width="400"></embed></object><div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-7480868500843041422009-06-25T11:28:00.021+01:002009-07-06T10:14:39.680+01:00Life - As We Know It<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKhfvTZh7jHthcvcQtobyTHcpl3m5Hv1UcXUYUPXaX8TielG_Sn9lQ7emZqDy9uatPZd4c0JW7SkpFe4lvZWPewiOc_DnYPLBkvpkxVQtBzjzh1hdzqWcSEJ6GJuP0V-AaYGfzMyAdnBvr/s1600-h/life+drawing.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 372px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKhfvTZh7jHthcvcQtobyTHcpl3m5Hv1UcXUYUPXaX8TielG_Sn9lQ7emZqDy9uatPZd4c0JW7SkpFe4lvZWPewiOc_DnYPLBkvpkxVQtBzjzh1hdzqWcSEJ6GJuP0V-AaYGfzMyAdnBvr/s400/life+drawing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351279754232665250" border="0" /></a><br /><br />There is a buzz going through life drawing classes up and down the country this week, the BBC have a treat in stall for all us non-holidaying sketchers, five half-hour episodes of Life Class, each devoted to drawing or painting the naked figure, each starring just two people: the artist and the model. The camera we are told will be on the model, allowing us at home to join in.<br />It's unbelievable in this day and age that this nudity issue is still able to cause a negative reaction, as in shock, horror, full frontal on daytime television, a sentiment a tabloud recently voiced. I thought we had put all this behind us the 60's and 70's. Only last year my drawing instructor was ordered to remove nude paintings from <a href="http://www.watfordobserver.co.uk/leisure/localexhibitions/3807947.Harrow_Council_bans_nude_paintings_from_art_show/">Harrow Arts Centre by the Local Council</a> which maybe, at a push, I could understand, if I lived in a small, intolerant, illiberal, conservative society or community, but we are talking about London here.<br /><br />Life Class: <a href="http://www.channel4.com/programmes/life-class-todays-nude">Today's Nude is on Channel 4</a> from 6-10 July<br /><br />This has reminded me of my pledge to post life drawings good and bad or indifferent. I've pictured a few recent daubs and scribbles just to show all the different techniques I've been encouraged to try. Sometimes, I have been less than enthusiastic in taking up the challenge but I needed a more disciplined and bolder approach to form, so hey, ho.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirWJ0beFwcf0MU1mvjytNI8apsF8Yvm-choJFwq1wU7Lz2ONI_LZ6ZX5zHb4ZCispDkaxjRc6SWTLttGWg6QMJBj9T7hbJ67JNQajiQcKmZVbz2xFGHyfD4Zi0yW6seGIPkOnwRX6CYG7e/s1600-h/3minute-charcoal.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 247px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirWJ0beFwcf0MU1mvjytNI8apsF8Yvm-choJFwq1wU7Lz2ONI_LZ6ZX5zHb4ZCispDkaxjRc6SWTLttGWg6QMJBj9T7hbJ67JNQajiQcKmZVbz2xFGHyfD4Zi0yW6seGIPkOnwRX6CYG7e/s320/3minute-charcoal.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351225410817112530" border="0" /></a>3 x five minutes charcoal<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb3W11UUgWmrKu4VwmtbeRgANsxfo_M3UTx21d4yPlA7hKyHAtCb6dDJVDNYyTX7rT402lHFFSDLD99_5Xn_nFNQDxkJ4jFb4AICpeVKl2m_zNQKj3vzEASUcTbVMrkPf2v54g3gdatZ62/s1600-h/1minute+pastel+only.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb3W11UUgWmrKu4VwmtbeRgANsxfo_M3UTx21d4yPlA7hKyHAtCb6dDJVDNYyTX7rT402lHFFSDLD99_5Xn_nFNQDxkJ4jFb4AICpeVKl2m_zNQKj3vzEASUcTbVMrkPf2v54g3gdatZ62/s320/1minute+pastel+only.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351225425004661634" border="0" /></a><br />3 x one minute (coloured pastel only)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGtS_JWm0MkxVjJfRvYqfQtqG-sXSS61TKn_0VLceIbQz_K2w2wj2Trv4eV81uLrOFGNb1ZfravQYDxckxKpS-17E6zBNINm0qmPXeqDD98Wyf-oqiShZLFtU_YHKTPR_CPrKtTTPSOG76/s1600-h/left+hand.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGtS_JWm0MkxVjJfRvYqfQtqG-sXSS61TKn_0VLceIbQz_K2w2wj2Trv4eV81uLrOFGNb1ZfravQYDxckxKpS-17E6zBNINm0qmPXeqDD98Wyf-oqiShZLFtU_YHKTPR_CPrKtTTPSOG76/s320/left+hand.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351278743544482338" border="0" /></a>5 minute LEFT hand only<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcbnhT1I_GvRtuiDdurkVBnwrIzIMovxn0Y4a-sLUuTrxSi4PibVAKIYXrt0_YLlF4jJ0-S8_8quJgdCu2IOKk8jB5s_JLIucWA0kYaA97iFB_XCu1MwiBSJ7n2mNir1PDclA-TQJSmRGN/s1600-h/45+mintues+watercolour.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 219px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcbnhT1I_GvRtuiDdurkVBnwrIzIMovxn0Y4a-sLUuTrxSi4PibVAKIYXrt0_YLlF4jJ0-S8_8quJgdCu2IOKk8jB5s_JLIucWA0kYaA97iFB_XCu1MwiBSJ7n2mNir1PDclA-TQJSmRGN/s320/45+mintues+watercolour.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351278740051723730" border="0" /></a> 30 minute watercolour<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5nfWH0v6YlFF5BoYwQm6AWScS7ACEn4c-Ysf-x2KFVYxjrveIgTSv-D8LT0lXl9LcUECBHXbhXoGSHQ8MHCWf97DS3WJdIQCK1p1NEx5vikecG7hyphenhyphenAOoHugXhGyHz_lq276I4w2MQeYhs/s1600-h/30+mintues+no+pencil.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 217px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5nfWH0v6YlFF5BoYwQm6AWScS7ACEn4c-Ysf-x2KFVYxjrveIgTSv-D8LT0lXl9LcUECBHXbhXoGSHQ8MHCWf97DS3WJdIQCK1p1NEx5vikecG7hyphenhyphenAOoHugXhGyHz_lq276I4w2MQeYhs/s320/30+mintues+no+pencil.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351225413322426690" border="0" /></a>30 minute pastel only (no pencil)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmOV0QKywNj1A0eKAF1Oq0BXUS7Wi5CnlonE0OeOyh2qiOUjJEIJtSScwBd1MppME9ORvjZOE07j7jeNv4aPzKHZWxUekgmyQzvmXJQohoqZlAaH5i1D2-KXKLkafXZJDAkFPtDxGVxfEE/s1600-h/30second+walking.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 237px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmOV0QKywNj1A0eKAF1Oq0BXUS7Wi5CnlonE0OeOyh2qiOUjJEIJtSScwBd1MppME9ORvjZOE07j7jeNv4aPzKHZWxUekgmyQzvmXJQohoqZlAaH5i1D2-KXKLkafXZJDAkFPtDxGVxfEE/s320/30second+walking.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351225422899961714" border="0" /></a><br />3 x one minute sketches walking around the static model<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwlZ7-YeyTOwEXtSrLkxr3wpPh3oh469MiApGld0GK-IG9t38um34OvI24S6kukKJbkls1q7LD0qKfr3Q0SvC62ANtNVFkiLmUvm5fR-nD2rYew4uwxvmUwVKi6QNtZv6q0yhOhhuektv5/s1600-h/45+mintues+pastel.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwlZ7-YeyTOwEXtSrLkxr3wpPh3oh469MiApGld0GK-IG9t38um34OvI24S6kukKJbkls1q7LD0qKfr3Q0SvC62ANtNVFkiLmUvm5fR-nD2rYew4uwxvmUwVKi6QNtZv6q0yhOhhuektv5/s320/45+mintues+pastel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351225416613276002" border="0" /></a>30 minutes pastels<div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-58470751267608894782009-05-27T00:17:00.004+01:002009-05-27T00:21:07.809+01:00Lazy Blogger, Busy Gardener, Glorious May!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjInrM2v-TC0g8rmy60jWpDe15Nsq_KNexMGTHgt5XEX70aLoX-6EIpSN3IRCjcfaVePv0ZHcOsXcp0j0o5sXOWHAE5hIECcq7-0TG1ZZkzmsvLlrukewGP2JZFtU8uG3SnFb6VWnoRmmNQ/s1600-h/stamensforblog.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjInrM2v-TC0g8rmy60jWpDe15Nsq_KNexMGTHgt5XEX70aLoX-6EIpSN3IRCjcfaVePv0ZHcOsXcp0j0o5sXOWHAE5hIECcq7-0TG1ZZkzmsvLlrukewGP2JZFtU8uG3SnFb6VWnoRmmNQ/s400/stamensforblog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340276534262661618" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This post is an apology for not finding the time to blog properly and a thank you for all your kind comments that have, unforgivingly, gone unanswered recently. I love the month of May. We've been eating al fresco, without the annoyance of high summer wasps, driving with the top down, rediscovering summer shorts at the back of wardrobe, lazing under parasols with the Sunday papers and everything in the garden is, literally, rosy! The vegetable garden is on the verge of being magnificent, which I've photographed and will be posting soon (feeling particularly chuffed about managing single headedly this year) and we stand a good chance of being self sufficient by June. So, just a few photographs of the garden flowers to tide you over until I can give you my full and undivided attention, in the meantime, I hope you are enjoying your own variety of "that lusty month of May"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg9O6uD-UmcMgDmln5G7QweN_pc2v4T1jddfN2U83R8TLF-IozYi4Zz4RH3sQAXOrswC4tMjoJ2_I7JJkHOw1Y0cFDfSyrO30CATQjDY7HXEPFrmHD2m4pN1tzTxnL2ADNfles8jxUp6Yj/s1600-h/roseblog.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg9O6uD-UmcMgDmln5G7QweN_pc2v4T1jddfN2U83R8TLF-IozYi4Zz4RH3sQAXOrswC4tMjoJ2_I7JJkHOw1Y0cFDfSyrO30CATQjDY7HXEPFrmHD2m4pN1tzTxnL2ADNfles8jxUp6Yj/s400/roseblog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340276359454226114" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-88688358146225883442009-05-19T23:56:00.015+01:002009-05-20T10:13:46.596+01:00Double Dated and Still Stood Up (Just)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ThAI0SWWoHfYlPxltoHApYDYx5srb6gqpT_8oMKFGw6fSeHuiIVbvjO-EeSB8Wh5NoHM-X0jTBKRX18qAiv8h43dbVbuuS-HP_2I0aMgv_kcqI9ZOSdS7D6EJTNIYR6MPAcK8v8r17aM/s1600-h/RHSchelsea.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 227px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ThAI0SWWoHfYlPxltoHApYDYx5srb6gqpT_8oMKFGw6fSeHuiIVbvjO-EeSB8Wh5NoHM-X0jTBKRX18qAiv8h43dbVbuuS-HP_2I0aMgv_kcqI9ZOSdS7D6EJTNIYR6MPAcK8v8r17aM/s400/RHSchelsea.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337712078085823282" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I had a special date in my diary for 19th May 2009, Chelsea Flower Show Member’s Day, which sadly fell though due to a misunderstanding and delayed action (by me, I hasten to add), so to partly recommence for the loss, I booked my sister for a day, as fellow photographer at Kew Gardens (thinking, deviously, it would be empty of visitors as they would have all been quicker off the draw for the RHS Chelsea tickets!) but again, the visit has been postponed (by me, I hasten to add, again). I cried off, as I’ve been restless and sleepless for many nights and just couldn’t face the storms predicted along with the endless and exhausting high winds we have been having here for two weeks, which have seen me rushing around trying to protect all my newly planted seedlings in manic mode. A strong wind on a sunny day is my idea of glorious weather usually, but these winds are so damaging and relentless, they have had the better of me and even the rough and tumble bully-boy black bamboo is struggling to right itself. It must have been a worry trying to put a show garden together while battling this whirling <span><span class="theColor">turmoil</span>,</span> my hat flies off to them;-) At least I can participate in the virtual Chelsea, albeit with a certain amount of grimace, due to some, well most, of the BBC presenters and too much time spent on the show gardens and not enough down-to-earth plantsmanship in the pavilions. If you would like to take a tour around the grounds and find a world of everything gardening, <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/chelsea/coverage/">lose an hour or two here</a><a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/chelsea/coverage/">.</a> Five episodes available as I blog and another four days coverage to come and that's enough for the keenest gardener, hardly leaving enough time to actually get out there and do it!<div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-32606389742445410732009-05-13T22:47:00.020+01:002009-05-14T08:27:53.049+01:00Gardening Un-coordinated (A love Letter)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhChiId2v6q-9kndCTxViaRjZQ-zwxq6BxkCEJikwaN4AaL0IT4CWpYXXGHH3v8rGeV7zHWRQuvvlcYSxoiQSNgNBg4qwL6Sy5pH_TSuB45-Pra85nh8kTqhbpNd-bploD5_FEjViaU85Dh/s1600-h/baby+tom+plants.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 176px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhChiId2v6q-9kndCTxViaRjZQ-zwxq6BxkCEJikwaN4AaL0IT4CWpYXXGHH3v8rGeV7zHWRQuvvlcYSxoiQSNgNBg4qwL6Sy5pH_TSuB45-Pra85nh8kTqhbpNd-bploD5_FEjViaU85Dh/s400/baby+tom+plants.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335430015753163378" border="0" /></a><br />I was so surprised and delighted, when, after all the years of self-sufficiency-dreaming on my behalf, Nick took to gardening when the opportunity presented itself. He had his own style, of course, totally juxtaposed to mine, which, as always, is to be expected. Nevertheless, he embraced it as a new and pleasurable pastime, which could be enjoyed outside, basking in his beloved sun-stoke-inducing weather and rewarded with an ice cooled gin and tonic as the sun hit the yardarm. Weeding was out, (well, how convenient!) nature was all. And, of course, there was the idea of maybe being able to grow a drink or two!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhohxwdlRdL6XmEfcny-4mdV87CP3aMQ5eNdKGPvnljDOoDVPxn6KKoaYyERpoeqNsqCyeUU9OUcavr7qOrWBBq-pk5v5DQlJ3XLRMK81neKC4YnleJyGeEU4jMZ3CDCmUna52au5QmB4LR/s1600-h/baby+bunches+of+grapes.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhohxwdlRdL6XmEfcny-4mdV87CP3aMQ5eNdKGPvnljDOoDVPxn6KKoaYyERpoeqNsqCyeUU9OUcavr7qOrWBBq-pk5v5DQlJ3XLRMK81neKC4YnleJyGeEU4jMZ3CDCmUna52au5QmB4LR/s400/baby+bunches+of+grapes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335429329622858434" border="0" /></a><br />He also re-found a childhood mania for digging holes. Not just any little ten or twelve inch planting holes, but serious here-comes-Australia holes! (Yesterday, a house painter came to size up our windows for a quote and asked me how we grew bamboo as thick and tall as we do. I had to describe the hole Nick dug for the root ball. I don’t think he believed me!) Anyway, what ever turned him on was OK by me, as long as we could do it side by side. (With constant know-it-all comments from both parties.) When he suffered his back injury he was amused to find himself telling the physiotherapist that amongst his ‘hobbies’ was gardening. It took him by surprise, which was more than a little ironic, as that’s what brought him there in the first place.<br />Well, the truth is, despite the endless banter of ‘my way is the only way’ that we both indulge in, I miss him along side me. In fact, I’ll go as far as saying gardening is a duel process for me; it’s the interplay that keeps me interested and feisty. To get to the nub of the blog and problem, suddenly I’m on my tod and I hate it. Yesterday, I spent four hours slogging at the allotment planting beans, erecting poles and ploughing through general maintenance, which would have seemed like half an hour in his company.<br />Here is a quick roundup of the varieties of bean and tomato I’m growing this year, with an apology that I’m not blogging as much as I would like due to fact that I’m flying solo so far this growing season. Hope he’s on the mend soon and comes out the other side still retaining his enthusiasm for the task in hand, albeit in our separate camps! Love you, miss you!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi81p8Cj7hFnChWY-vGsfW-FZ4F65sBQb1CnB8aybZEW5G_Vyvi4G6RPKKMn5An60hymolVUfMNolcEzlIUsCFA6cJchInIenKe13qAGKt2uWJ1C_jaQ2OjpLOLbqgrnHoZemUVCAt3P8Jk/s1600-h/beans+head+off+into+the+sky.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 247px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi81p8Cj7hFnChWY-vGsfW-FZ4F65sBQb1CnB8aybZEW5G_Vyvi4G6RPKKMn5An60hymolVUfMNolcEzlIUsCFA6cJchInIenKe13qAGKt2uWJ1C_jaQ2OjpLOLbqgrnHoZemUVCAt3P8Jk/s400/beans+head+off+into+the+sky.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335429028145928674" border="0" /></a><br />Beans<br />Fagioli Rampicanti (Yard Long Beans)<br />Fagioli Nani (Cannellino Bush Beans)<br />Borlotto Rosso (Dwarf Beans)<br />Borlotto Centofiamme (Climber: the Mystery Bean see previous post)<br />Triofo Violtto (Climbing Purple French Bean)<br />My own breed of runner beans (a show stopper)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu8CfC-6qctKuVvoO21HFUfDVaQ_1h5xMk2vUtxiefiQqW44WC_dpl41a1sYa6zQbrPX8bwqoJKOJ9fgbgqyypZKHsWX12UOpYwi3UQRMHno_9rkvgFkwGj1HMxwrUuqf1Pqo8f-UcQvaM/s1600-h/toms.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 255px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu8CfC-6qctKuVvoO21HFUfDVaQ_1h5xMk2vUtxiefiQqW44WC_dpl41a1sYa6zQbrPX8bwqoJKOJ9fgbgqyypZKHsWX12UOpYwi3UQRMHno_9rkvgFkwGj1HMxwrUuqf1Pqo8f-UcQvaM/s400/toms.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335428748755903170" border="0" /></a><br />Tomatoes<br />Orange Queen<br />Green Zebra<br />Russian Prune Noir<br />Noire De Crimee<br />Des Andes<br />Anna Russian<br />Purple Calabash<br />Ananas<br />Ox Heart<br />Costoluto Fiorentino<div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-66880151796362180532009-04-25T21:24:00.007+01:002009-04-25T22:38:05.439+01:00Politicking, and this time it’s personal!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_tdVYq9BUWNz4_mIcRU8soxre-6dsNELHy4fPyjiIjc0iqNQ-yydjXXsVIyQyL-pSwUUefZ8PCdx2vkF6I3sYKU5umgFOrPPgKnfHfF8H_B3u4Z2VQuAW5FkxW0apSmAS7xfzZi9Veue2/s1600-h/rant.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_tdVYq9BUWNz4_mIcRU8soxre-6dsNELHy4fPyjiIjc0iqNQ-yydjXXsVIyQyL-pSwUUefZ8PCdx2vkF6I3sYKU5umgFOrPPgKnfHfF8H_B3u4Z2VQuAW5FkxW0apSmAS7xfzZi9Veue2/s320/rant.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328729259774718594" border="0" /></a><br />There are rumblings at foot in the village (I’m coming out here, Northwood). The local ruling party, the Conservatives (fingers in throat) are posting “Save Our Small Shops”. Well absolutely, well worthy and most commendable in theory, however, just so impractical in nature. That is unless you are one of the number that need the five or six hairdressers/beauty saloons, or are required to buy/sell a house, four, or the equal number of greeting card shops that are available of the 30 or so shops in the village. What makes me so cross (and here comes the rant) is that <span style="font-weight: bold;">not one</span> sells useful commodities like: fish, meat, fresh vegetables, local eggs, a halfway decent loaf or on a personal level, art supplies. We have four coffee shops, well, I can brew my own for one tenth of the cost (using fairtrade beans) and although I too like hangin’ with friends, I find home a more congenial space rather than their multi-national and sadly predicable interiors, where nobody knows the variety or lineage of their coffee.<br />Just a few good shops survive: a watch repairers, a shoe shop (well, I am addicted), a gent’s outfitters (wonderful, but far too expensive for this household), a haberdashers (oh, hallowed one), a book shop (struggling with on-line sales, guilty), a kitchen design shop (quite beautiful, but how often do you need to spend a fortune refiguring your kitchen? I give it a year) and two wonderful charity shops (both supplied and regularly supported in sales by yours truly). The supermarket is now the heart of the village and has done for the local food suppliers, so sad. Here I blame the archfiend and arch-capitalist of past and present Tories, M.T. (I can’t bring myself to name the she-devil), a strange thing for a daughter of a grocer to do.<br />Blood pressure now subsiding, from your host, frizzy of hair, natural in beauty, clothes always two years out-of-date but yet weirdly funky, growing her own and always elegant at foot, surviver of commuter hell, Fay<div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-5775512803649231362009-04-25T17:57:00.008+01:002009-04-27T22:49:13.209+01:00Using Your Marbles<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXrprkX5unl7Y-_IdtzIg9UqWiFBYMU9WkGZPD5fMONCpFJD3O5X9qJ76uttyRCorP_k5ebp0wArcRskWjAizdIt3xrg8TYzOI-_Cy94PYBzzZdegVgsgJGfY-UPCHGnjyj2qktm8Um64d/s1600-h/beans.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 281px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXrprkX5unl7Y-_IdtzIg9UqWiFBYMU9WkGZPD5fMONCpFJD3O5X9qJ76uttyRCorP_k5ebp0wArcRskWjAizdIt3xrg8TYzOI-_Cy94PYBzzZdegVgsgJGfY-UPCHGnjyj2qktm8Um64d/s400/beans.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328675519302793922" border="0" /></a><br />Out of the 20 or so allotments in our association, three of our members are Italian.<br />Last year, I begged some beans from Francesca as I had admired the vigour and productivity of the unknown (to me) climbing dried bean she’d grown last autumn. Returning home with my generous haul, I immediately went on-line to discovery what exact my bounty was. I had some difficulty finding the variety even with the World Wide Web at by fingertips. A type of climbing marble bean was the only clue, so I checked my favourite Italian seed suppliers. The closest I could find was the glorious borlotti bean, but as I had grown those for years as bush beans I had no idea they came in climbing form, anyway these where slightly different. Although a little smaller than other borlotti beans when freshly dried, the beans swell vastly when soaked and cooked, resulting in a much larger, almost butter bean sized seed. They are the most buttery, earthy and delicious beans I’ve ever tasted.<br />In the photograph, as well as the mystery beans (left), there are some bush borlotti beans I saved for planting this Spring. The difference is small on first glance, I grant you, but when studied more closely there are some variations in colour, particularly around the ‘eye’ which is bright orange in the mystery bean. I think what clinches the climber as a borlotti-type is the occasional, strange, wine-coloured bean in each group, maybe a throw-back to the same genetic parent and speculatively, I think they could be something like Borlotti Bean Lingua di Fuoco or the Fire Tongue Bean, well we’ll see. I’ve just sown the puzzle marble beans, in the conservatory for now, as being so enigmatic and exotic I’m not sure they will take our night time temperatures just yet.<br />Curzio, another Italian down on the allotment grows solely grapes for his much admired wine, so he and Nick have a ready made conversation based on weather conditions, yield, soil (sorry, terroir!) and general grape-talk. Nick won’t be chin wagging or doing much of anything else at the allotment for a while as he has injured his back digging my half of the plot. So, he can’t bend and I can’t lift (arthritic wrists); we make a pretty pair when trying to empty the dishwasher, I can tell you!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2F4wfPtnxVtDYuHUmr2T4yOfOV-Pq7Fjo3kcjE447jiGMM2wsthXXLgB_wG0P8vj3mLbW6HneOM0IQHcH8u_Fd6Tx0a8uQGe1c945keaEkBtmw4kdIzB2wXsmNVA96wYBfauTe55LuWK7/s1600-h/clematis-shed.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2F4wfPtnxVtDYuHUmr2T4yOfOV-Pq7Fjo3kcjE447jiGMM2wsthXXLgB_wG0P8vj3mLbW6HneOM0IQHcH8u_Fd6Tx0a8uQGe1c945keaEkBtmw4kdIzB2wXsmNVA96wYBfauTe55LuWK7/s400/clematis-shed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328675074777781090" border="0" /></a><br />Clematis Montana ' Pink Perfection' rambling across the garden shed.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-43657040776118944382009-04-23T12:13:00.009+01:002009-04-27T22:49:56.432+01:00Herb and Walnut Sauce<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtjiXZi9lP8VrN8vfuVNV6bKnxVnQ-lz7R3s9N3qre98cD0KtGrlhqIkpwIz1U0FQ8NrwVUkpFjgbr37DPBnbWWXm_1Y98eA8Yaf7AqGh5dVZiMnU7MaU6q93a5DHEJTKwMED86yJgJ9jA/s1600-h/chives.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 359px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtjiXZi9lP8VrN8vfuVNV6bKnxVnQ-lz7R3s9N3qre98cD0KtGrlhqIkpwIz1U0FQ8NrwVUkpFjgbr37DPBnbWWXm_1Y98eA8Yaf7AqGh5dVZiMnU7MaU6q93a5DHEJTKwMED86yJgJ9jA/s400/chives.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327853772558785650" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Follower Red Clover asked, "I wouldn't mind you expounding on a couple of those recipes" when commenting on "<a href="http://woodlandfay.blogspot.com/2009/04/herbs-to-sustain-you.html">Herbs to Sustain You</a>". So, in haste, here is one by Antonio Carluccio that combines simplicity and freshness, resulting in authentic italian taste in super fast time.<br />One previsor, you must use fresh herbs and chop the walnuts by hand so that the sauce has a fairly coarse texture.<br /><br />For four<br /><br />1 oz walnuts<br />Good bunches of parsley and chives<br />Smaller bunches of <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">2 only</span> of the following fresh herbs: tarragon (careful here, it's very strong), dill, basil, mint. I recommend the latter two, but experiment.<br />1 clove of garlic<br />4 tablespoons olive oil<br />Salt and freshly ground black pepper<br />Freshly grated Parmesan cheese<br />Egg Pasta<br /><br />Using a sharp knife, finely chop the herbs and walnuts<br />Crush the garlic in salt<br />Mix the herbs, walnuts, garlic olive oil, salt and pepper<br />Add half if the mix to the cooked pasta, turn out onto a serving dish, pouring the remaining sauce on top and serve with the cheese. Fini!<br /><br />Makes a great lunch with a few dressed salad leaves and a glass of something red and italian. <span style="font-size:100%;">Buon appetito!</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisTwHqBbq8AKeq3sRVyRNkQC9HgRYxEty-F06sPMqcOAvlwLAs9o8pISl6LelpGaHHu1jo-6kvIBZQF-qqTv_oFTZpsRNpxlvrdGcjIf-XOT-1YBPCeDqym8Snj9EZN08fRWoqQWWhs5y8/s1600-h/mint+in+pots.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisTwHqBbq8AKeq3sRVyRNkQC9HgRYxEty-F06sPMqcOAvlwLAs9o8pISl6LelpGaHHu1jo-6kvIBZQF-qqTv_oFTZpsRNpxlvrdGcjIf-XOT-1YBPCeDqym8Snj9EZN08fRWoqQWWhs5y8/s400/mint+in+pots.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327853448723466562" border="0" /></a><br />Top : Chives about to flower and finish for the year.<br />Below : Mints in pots to avoid a take over.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-46194350239364112402009-04-21T14:48:00.022+01:002009-04-27T22:47:38.034+01:00Herbs to Sustain You<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfLVRArEzuxntc1cMTrJNu7Nuz-3bslj_6XbtVjTvBkO2A_jvb2k_8tBmM_jG6Fxy-Nuh71Fy_zUJ4CSOMl8VwMLoo3a-oCQTTZSyAaTb6tM89U923Yclf5TMJwbPWjDal_YnWohV_B-t8/s1600-h/herb+bed.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 258px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfLVRArEzuxntc1cMTrJNu7Nuz-3bslj_6XbtVjTvBkO2A_jvb2k_8tBmM_jG6Fxy-Nuh71Fy_zUJ4CSOMl8VwMLoo3a-oCQTTZSyAaTb6tM89U923Yclf5TMJwbPWjDal_YnWohV_B-t8/s400/herb+bed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327144806030195858" border="0" /></a><br />Warm, sunny days have me busy in the garden, despite an unfairly timed bout of wrist arthritis. The blossom is glorious, although worryingly quiet from an absence of bees, the wisteria running along the back of the house about to unfurl. The first crops of vegetables are planted and growing. The lawn is cut, the fruit trees feed, just the ever present and never finished chore of weeding remains of which I do less each year through either turning a blind eye to certain areas or mulching. (Good for wildlife is my mantra!)<br /><br />I hate supermarket shopping. I will avoid it at any cost and the cost to my family is they must eat herbs, lots of herbs. The strategy works like this, buy dry grocery basics like beans, flour, rice, pasta, nuts and vegetables, if they are not available in the garden, like potatoes, onions, roots etc with a long shelf-life. (I think the reason I started to grow my own vegetables was to avoid going to the supermarket, that may sound lazy, but I reckon for every hour I would have to shop, I work five or six in the garden/allotment, which illustrates just how much I loath the supermarket run.) For lunch I make soup daily, this is usually one or more from each group above and a bunch of herbs, for example:<br />Potato and Sorrel Soup<br />Carrot, Arborio Rice and Chervil Soup<br />Mint and Split Pea Soup<br />Celery, Par-Cel and Lovage Soup.<br /><br />It’s the same story for the evening meal.<br />Pasta with Parsley, Walnuts and Wild Garlic<br />Gnocchi with Lemon, Pine Nut and Rocket Pesto<br />Onion and Rosemary Pizza<br />Italian Bean Salad with Thyme and Winter Savory<br />Sage or Borage Fritters<br />To mention a few, there are just some many herby goodies.<br /><br />All served with our trusty salad leaves that have taken us through the winter without resorting to the plastic bags of the mixed salad of indistinguishable flavours on the supermarket shelves. For drinks, I make cordials when the opportunity presents itself. Elderflower, autumn raspberry and apple juices and teabags made from herbs, mint and fennel, lemon balm and lemon verbena. I like to grow lots of different flavoured mints, amongst the favourites are black peppermint, ginger mint, berries and cream mint (wow, I know, find it at <a href="http://www.jekkasherbfarm.com/details.asp?productid=474&qs=offset%3D40%26x%3D30%26x%3D20%26x%3D10%26ProductCode%3D%26FreeText%3Dmint%26PlantType%3DAny%26Hardiness%3DAny%26Uses%3DAny%26Aspect%3DAny%26Height%3DAny%26Colour%3DAny%26Category%3DPlants%2B%2526%2BSeeds%26Submit%3DSearch">Jekka Seeds</a>), lime mint, and apple mint but I am continually finding new and exciting varieties that make wonderful hot and cold drinks.<br /><br />Of course, it’s not quite that simple, a good bouillon or stock is needed for the soup base, Parmesan for the pasta and gnocchi and sugar to make cordials, but you get the gist, and we do eat meat, eggs, citrus fruit, olive oil and many other good things that I can’t walk out into the garden to gather. But at this time of year I like to challenge myself against an empty fridge and eat from nature’s bountiful larder.<br />So here are a few snaps from the garden pantry plus a general glimpse at what’s flowering now.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBv14HExQUMNrBr-AYhPS5e0I3tigEn4r-nkAQSo8T2T8zuefgs43MC1g4dn5zWTAnB4d96oiJ9KqO9fAuvGytOW6lH-BGICX0R6b1zoJWxOMkddafEFGpX54nZrB1bl8Hw0R2UYAE9RNs/s1600-h/nettles.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBv14HExQUMNrBr-AYhPS5e0I3tigEn4r-nkAQSo8T2T8zuefgs43MC1g4dn5zWTAnB4d96oiJ9KqO9fAuvGytOW6lH-BGICX0R6b1zoJWxOMkddafEFGpX54nZrB1bl8Hw0R2UYAE9RNs/s320/nettles.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327144334683088562" border="0" /></a><br />Nettles collected at the allotment make a great soup (with leek and Arborio rice) when the tips are picked young.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl6GKB8q_3sijJo0o4yru2yDnS16S4ja5rZjAeQzEM0cdXXgfHDbS6iSxtWeSrBVFEbx-O-FICHGSdrzKUqQ2g4bkcanN9VvatG7Po6ImdHGVtF-HMFxnH8551xtTu_auX5bPUzesF3S_4/s1600-h/sorrel.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl6GKB8q_3sijJo0o4yru2yDnS16S4ja5rZjAeQzEM0cdXXgfHDbS6iSxtWeSrBVFEbx-O-FICHGSdrzKUqQ2g4bkcanN9VvatG7Po6ImdHGVtF-HMFxnH8551xtTu_auX5bPUzesF3S_4/s320/sorrel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327144095750421426" border="0" /></a><br />Sorrel, in a yet to be weeded part of the potagerie.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYnguhKFiwI02e1d-WeCVVHydRrdNwVWiYqmxccKJARfmHxN5ho9_MPUFVDRnqeWo-kcRQoIY-b9BaOVYy1bs68avXoQ7PFaRQnAfQleW5_hx_841Wo2petkBsxWMI1IWdMoScCS9Jon9r/s1600-h/chervil.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYnguhKFiwI02e1d-WeCVVHydRrdNwVWiYqmxccKJARfmHxN5ho9_MPUFVDRnqeWo-kcRQoIY-b9BaOVYy1bs68avXoQ7PFaRQnAfQleW5_hx_841Wo2petkBsxWMI1IWdMoScCS9Jon9r/s320/chervil.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327143870169700386" border="0" /></a><br />An embarrassment of chervil, large bunch to all callers!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2CUnTUy1VTvExPvo09lbv2vuQIjJ6uKtovctiegLzdSuI9LvygmcKrjDamM-aGy01P9kM7lg1-Dh1Ja5q5kgx5B28-RUE8-N1g2_LqQCKvLCdKDW4qDx8oz0m-sDPg_1HRjkQFO17X_wz/s1600-h/tea+bag.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2CUnTUy1VTvExPvo09lbv2vuQIjJ6uKtovctiegLzdSuI9LvygmcKrjDamM-aGy01P9kM7lg1-Dh1Ja5q5kgx5B28-RUE8-N1g2_LqQCKvLCdKDW4qDx8oz0m-sDPg_1HRjkQFO17X_wz/s320/tea+bag.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327143123356796818" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifxmp8FRIZo70J7TIDHNzraQK1exSC7rBA6aKyaW8uhwoiPyU7VdVZHWzk8l8NkzWWHYeFH-vJjfTA5f2jbBNTr7LPdR0xK7V21uZJnuEPpt_XuHcx9hQdAewXhFZzHytTN_RAkYafyPek/s1600-h/mint+tea.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifxmp8FRIZo70J7TIDHNzraQK1exSC7rBA6aKyaW8uhwoiPyU7VdVZHWzk8l8NkzWWHYeFH-vJjfTA5f2jbBNTr7LPdR0xK7V21uZJnuEPpt_XuHcx9hQdAewXhFZzHytTN_RAkYafyPek/s320/mint+tea.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327143120098348802" border="0" /></a><br />Making mint tea and the bags I buy, expensive but great for homemade bouquet garnis as well as herb teas.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga1mizS4SWiWfvuiWlXlmVPpEnwggQGs7rdHex5SgPmPvmDc_l77YEZ12bha34IEBhc_BjRxsITXnYG_8Vlu5dPeheUOTRwQw1Y4N9SDjLE4QzhArz3LrjcXWrNPJncgi_cNhx-kC_EtrQ/s1600-h/pear+blossom.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga1mizS4SWiWfvuiWlXlmVPpEnwggQGs7rdHex5SgPmPvmDc_l77YEZ12bha34IEBhc_BjRxsITXnYG_8Vlu5dPeheUOTRwQw1Y4N9SDjLE4QzhArz3LrjcXWrNPJncgi_cNhx-kC_EtrQ/s320/pear+blossom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327143433295663554" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwzD-Lo7wLP6IE0vg9MHhr7ZBZq3SOpGJ-xYxZmd5ywMrYhyF3KtsF1b60z7RGToq7TX8HMU-G4wjBPMPToaO8btCMi6WYzWseu1XU4Z_Neehnpnz7emnPt2Ipzg61Gu1Glo3Ik_dBrIep/s1600-h/apple+blossom.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwzD-Lo7wLP6IE0vg9MHhr7ZBZq3SOpGJ-xYxZmd5ywMrYhyF3KtsF1b60z7RGToq7TX8HMU-G4wjBPMPToaO8btCMi6WYzWseu1XU4Z_Neehnpnz7emnPt2Ipzg61Gu1Glo3Ik_dBrIep/s320/apple+blossom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327143434690570834" border="0" /></a><br />Pear tree in blossom and a close up of apple blossom.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKltH1It-FaLkiM5Dx7ROCSi7V8f9RbHO_ilIzLtDShXvoh_XTTi6p51zqz2gY_njc21Fk1iBnJRr99wV26M9fAsdQQRCSYCyC2oWMONHJu9yPvOsSmMv9DdIhxmo3-aZHNuXm7mQhWDJJ/s1600-h/freckles.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKltH1It-FaLkiM5Dx7ROCSi7V8f9RbHO_ilIzLtDShXvoh_XTTi6p51zqz2gY_njc21Fk1iBnJRr99wV26M9fAsdQQRCSYCyC2oWMONHJu9yPvOsSmMv9DdIhxmo3-aZHNuXm7mQhWDJJ/s320/freckles.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327142077076925410" border="0" /></a><br />Viola sororia 'Freckles'.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8UAVDlulMxV93dijJfHrqzyrshWOrzGBENV53iV1sHajxgUi2hgPUnpF1wrxTDuel5yyNGcYr9xH1VWzv2yowRUijbYKuxjdaUrguk9LU11HS94YDpGJXCSqxorMJ2rIvqM8I5909ZkJJ/s1600-h/clematis.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8UAVDlulMxV93dijJfHrqzyrshWOrzGBENV53iV1sHajxgUi2hgPUnpF1wrxTDuel5yyNGcYr9xH1VWzv2yowRUijbYKuxjdaUrguk9LU11HS94YDpGJXCSqxorMJ2rIvqM8I5909ZkJJ/s320/clematis.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327141841647244114" border="0" /></a><br />Clematis armandii now fading.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnWWXPEMJHwSn4oKxWw2veaZ3WwzAxLsxNitQ4iZwBfAVLDGC1NkeVFSQI1yvnsHArp_rFsUcM-RD5A2a0Q7pkzXNLc9-ywK68oxCi8wHrNYOgSbHv5hVMaFRFRelP5wWTD0xtd-nkggJP/s1600-h/wisteria.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 287px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnWWXPEMJHwSn4oKxWw2veaZ3WwzAxLsxNitQ4iZwBfAVLDGC1NkeVFSQI1yvnsHArp_rFsUcM-RD5A2a0Q7pkzXNLc9-ywK68oxCi8wHrNYOgSbHv5hVMaFRFRelP5wWTD0xtd-nkggJP/s320/wisteria.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327141589123313154" border="0" /></a><br />Wisteria photographed last year about a week from now.<br />Finally, Geoff Hamilton (1936-1996), known to us here in the UK from his gardening programs, loved by many and irritating some, had a gentle humour that I think is shown by this lovely quote "Seedsmen reckon that their stock in trade is not seeds at all ... it's optimism".<br /><span class="ital-inline"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span><span class="ital-inline"></span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="ital-inline"></span><div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-78705644476753633262009-04-10T20:57:00.008+01:002009-04-11T04:13:58.512+01:00Gardening: Early Influences (Genetic Cuttings and Seedlings)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcSc313byNCVKlmS56K3NTSevQKtFRx02hM_ny-mMlfC8ZrcndyYs6Kv01b0WcSgh7prhxsy9gW7NyvIdLDPQQU45awsTTII6FIoZb05vRqJfS5Wh4D4t9u6ayOYb4tI1DhzwHMq0OgpL6/s1600-h/seeding.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 360px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcSc313byNCVKlmS56K3NTSevQKtFRx02hM_ny-mMlfC8ZrcndyYs6Kv01b0WcSgh7prhxsy9gW7NyvIdLDPQQU45awsTTII6FIoZb05vRqJfS5Wh4D4t9u6ayOYb4tI1DhzwHMq0OgpL6/s400/seeding.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323168582211347970" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Back from Paris and now is the time to plunge myself into gardening. A time for growth and while musing upon the seeds to be sown and the cuttings to be taken, with new growth in mind, my thoughts turn to the ones that have gone before. So here is a little historic look at all my genetic helpers.<br />As a child I was initiated into gardening from an early age. I had a great grandfather who worked in the Black Country (in the British West Midlands) as a mining engineer, which afforded him a free load of coal every week allowing him to run vast private glasshouses, where he indulged his passion for exotic plants. Never growing more than one species at a time, he would (with much frustration from family and fellow gardeners) raise the most glorious orchids one year, only to be tipped onto the compost heap in favour of every known variety of hoya the following year (the great-great-grand-plant of which I still have growing in my conservatory despite the rabbit’s attentions!) Talking of my conservatory, another fossil of my past lurks there. My grandmother’s cactus, <span style="font-style: italic;">cleistocactus strausii</span>, handed down from mother to daughter and now a nine foot relic of at least 60 years to my knowledge.<br />Perhaps I could also mention another link in family history to gardening, although this one is a little more tenuous. My ancestor, the journeyman shoemaker poet, <a href="http://www.litencyc.com/php/speople.php?rec=true&UID=11775">James Woodhouse</a> (1735-1820) acquired patronage from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Shenstone">William Shenstone</a> though his famous garden in Halesowen. After inheriting his estate, Shenstone embarked on elaborate schemes of landscape gardening, which earned him a leading role in the tradition of English garden design and the cult of the “natural” landscape. Woodhouse wrote a poem pleading that he might still be allowed to walk in the garden. Shenstone was so impressed by the poem that he became his benefactor and had my ancestor’s work published, leading to a literary career in London. (Trivia: Shenstone became the first person to record the use of floccinaucinihilipilification, recognized as the longest word in the English language and ironical meaning worthless!)<br />Back in my childhood, at bedtime, I had garden poems instead of stories. Poems such as Amy Lowell’s Patterns, The Flowers by Robert Louis Stevenson (very influential for a Woodland Fay) Beloved by Elizabeth Barrett Browning and so many more. As for picture books, well just one springs to mind as my favourite and it’s still in front of me, battered and missing most of it’s dust jacket, ‘The Story of Plants and their Uses to Man’, by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Hutchinson_%28botanist%29">John Hutchinson</a> (1884-1972) and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ronald_Melville">Ronald Melville </a>(1903-1985) both active in the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew. This book, to my knowledge only published once in 1948, has never failed in all the years it has accompanied me through my life, to interest and amaze and has been a catalyst in my desire to grow things both in childhood and to this day.<br />As for toys, one Christmas, to my endless joy, I received a toy garden. Made like lead soldiers, there were pots and trellises, beds and troughs to be planted with endless lead plants and flowers and then arranged with pergolas and paved walkways in any given permutation, a miniature garden of delight. In the intervening years I sometimes feel as if I have dreamt this toy up, as I have never seen another since, and oh, how I wish I could time travel and return to save it so that I could play once more! Instead, now I’m home from my adventures in Paris, I’ll go outside and wrestle with the real weeds that have been stealthily sprouting from every clod and which were strangely absent from my lovely low maintenance toy garden!<div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635181072397538703.post-53492611083144991802009-03-15T23:58:00.013+00:002009-04-27T22:50:50.623+01:00Paris Time<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy7dORF4Zgy-qD-dsiUxnCo2R18_K-TCWzgk3a1i7C6l6YTudE3ZJ12Ru46cXGLrxBhTjl88JmoEuYFL5Y-aJII0j3aKJQ2M-iXc6Y1xpNu8UYR48y8O64vpT0NFjqrD_4ping6KnT9-Lm/s1600-h/paris_apartment.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy7dORF4Zgy-qD-dsiUxnCo2R18_K-TCWzgk3a1i7C6l6YTudE3ZJ12Ru46cXGLrxBhTjl88JmoEuYFL5Y-aJII0j3aKJQ2M-iXc6Y1xpNu8UYR48y8O64vpT0NFjqrD_4ping6KnT9-Lm/s320/paris_apartment.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313576087431253362" border="0" /></a><br /><br />With the trip to Paris nearly upon us, I have been looking through the photographs from my last trip. There are snaps of my friend's apartment where we will stay, an "I-want-to-take-it-home" marble basin at the Sunday market we always visit, an early morning espresso while writing cards, a stained glass window from my favorite museum, the amazing Musée National du Moyen Âge and a visual reminder of the goodies to come from the patiserie. And while my dyslexia is rampant, (I have good days and bad weeks!) I'll let the pictures do the talking.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcIqKsf3AEl2IQ7q63FJAm-eu5TesCiPloFegJvqM6X5V3oKDRdiRUuPSlc6k1mtlY7lAfbGfBjishtQzhcOgolSM5TmpAADAJw3Bf1WDeHnio_NSzsEA1YB_DR2ZGRMTtqX66aspIf-E1/s1600-h/very_french.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcIqKsf3AEl2IQ7q63FJAm-eu5TesCiPloFegJvqM6X5V3oKDRdiRUuPSlc6k1mtlY7lAfbGfBjishtQzhcOgolSM5TmpAADAJw3Bf1WDeHnio_NSzsEA1YB_DR2ZGRMTtqX66aspIf-E1/s320/very_french.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313576088977882546" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLoYu3q6qaXh4gtCRsA4ZgXY30d9AjjF-xs83OrbJMaW5OaRvkjs68ra_GHr8hO0s3Lv5TpclEc5md4gcl-3pBxmKf7sEbMit5mvfz6obiJFqhsA3auKht5s0nCY3ClZl9o7K19CsScp2V/s1600-h/sundaymarket.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLoYu3q6qaXh4gtCRsA4ZgXY30d9AjjF-xs83OrbJMaW5OaRvkjs68ra_GHr8hO0s3Lv5TpclEc5md4gcl-3pBxmKf7sEbMit5mvfz6obiJFqhsA3auKht5s0nCY3ClZl9o7K19CsScp2V/s320/sundaymarket.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313577918893316194" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5D7-LtfoiguuiBI9FVXzutbCCQ3lVBgCqvmH3AchJJBa-k_fSv_NP1pRqzVyKS6rRr2kcy8HqCRDcni52y_d1THU_HoiUfz8JRJ62sihgrwWz2VkzFn1ksmdtE8D8TnyKq5HDO6J4BZ7c/s1600-h/espresso.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5D7-LtfoiguuiBI9FVXzutbCCQ3lVBgCqvmH3AchJJBa-k_fSv_NP1pRqzVyKS6rRr2kcy8HqCRDcni52y_d1THU_HoiUfz8JRJ62sihgrwWz2VkzFn1ksmdtE8D8TnyKq5HDO6J4BZ7c/s320/espresso.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313576076705984834" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikaITxG3PNS16-uZ9tv73TrQQC7OMIA8jbbao5rGOIJq88w7Qoavbo_lsLgBsFFXG3bitxyccyB785fz932JuWyGCTsu_UnSlTB-dvBQb12Esv0_iXNKWYobte1oRowKVJRZJYGtioB94m/s1600-h/stainedglass.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikaITxG3PNS16-uZ9tv73TrQQC7OMIA8jbbao5rGOIJq88w7Qoavbo_lsLgBsFFXG3bitxyccyB785fz932JuWyGCTsu_UnSlTB-dvBQb12Esv0_iXNKWYobte1oRowKVJRZJYGtioB94m/s320/stainedglass.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313576072340744146" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizax3EFYkyOKIelU2iiDaV8P95wrs8K8h79ODjJOfttT0RsJFGKq0Uunq9c8Q97fw7VwdLEzcQr0uGAEYSGt_QoKYKbo6L-BYIRUMmA3jBmV7LU8afny-iLwBI7Pm6O8ujrl-8tWAXSSaY/s1600-h/patiserie.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 161px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizax3EFYkyOKIelU2iiDaV8P95wrs8K8h79ODjJOfttT0RsJFGKq0Uunq9c8Q97fw7VwdLEzcQr0uGAEYSGt_QoKYKbo6L-BYIRUMmA3jBmV7LU8afny-iLwBI7Pm6O8ujrl-8tWAXSSaY/s320/patiserie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313576069319604882" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Woodland Fay</div>Woodland Fayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12874727075887749720noreply@blogger.com5