Keeping One Ahead

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Vegetables – Carsington Water

I’m now ahead of the count and feeling more relaxed. It’s a Micawber situation.

Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure nineteen nineteen and six, result happiness. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure twenty pounds nought and six, result misery.

The same goes for posts on the blog – if I’m one behind, I’m miserable. If I’m one in front, I’m happy. One behind, and it can seem like a mountain to climb amongst all the other work and distractions. But one ahead is so relaxing . . .

This is fortunate, as I still have submissions to finish for the end of the month and that is now very close. I also have to make mushroom and chestnut pie tonight, as my sister is coming to eat. I have been mentally running through the preparation and think it will be OK. There is nothing complicated, I just need to line the ingredients up and prepare it methodically. Leeks, mushrooms, thyme, wine, soaked, dried mushrooms, chestnuts . . .

The dried mushrooms are a bit of a luxury but I thought I ought o be fair to the recipe. I’m already using wine instead of marsala, so i’s slightly diluted already.

I was going to follow up later in the week with Woolton Pie as I said in an earlier post. but the recipe says cauliflower and I forgot to order it. I could miss it out or use broccoli but again, having sourced the original recipe I feel I should give it a fair chance. We either get a cauli later in the week or wait until the weekend and order one with  the new  grocery delivery.

It’s a case of one attempt to show how it should be and subsequent attempts can be a little more relaxed. The Mushroom and Chestnut Pie, for instance, is likely to lose the chestnuts, dried mushrooms and wine. Leek and Mushroom pie with some added Marmite is likely to become the more cost-effective norm. As for Woolton Pie, it always was meant to be a place to use all sorts of leftovers so it’s only a short step to whatever is wrinkling in the fridge, and it can have a potato topping. Potatoes weren’t rationed but the fats for pastry were, so I’m only exhibiting wartime frugality.

Slightly strange but home grown

A Haibun from the Past

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Julia on the patio during lockdown

Here’s a haibun from 2021. It had its origins during lockdown as we used to sit outside the back door and dream of freedom.

Across the Valley
From the garden we look down onto a jumble of red tiled roofs and trees and for a moment, I can imagine that we are in the Mediterranean, and not Nottingham. We eat cheese and biscuits, and warm figs, picked straight from the container-grown trees in the front garden. The back garden faces north, which will not do for figs. If I had known we would stay here long enough to become gardeners, I would have bought a different house.


crumbs
on a cracked plate
once I had dreams

First published in Blithe Spirit 31.2 April 2021

Once we were quite good gardeners

Tasty Meal, Disappointing Photo

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Got up. Had breakfast. Saw greenfinch and two long-tailed tits on the feeders (one of the latter came and peered through the kitchen window at me), Waved Julia off to her meeting at he railway station, read emails (boring), answered comments (better) and read blogs (better still). Now I need to write.

Julia had a good afternoon at the tea room. The shopping arrived and everything was there. I forgot to order yoghurt.

Broccoli, with added steam

Last night’s meal, sausage, onion gravy, mashed mixed veg (carrot, parsnip and butternut squash) broccoli, mustard mash, worked out well, though the “onion gravy” was a bit thick and lacked liquid and flow. It was more like a splodge of onions with flavouring. It’s amazing how many ways I can get things wrong. That should be the simplest part.

I tried writing some notes whilst watching TV but it didn’t work well. The days when I could read a book, watch TV and chat are long gone. My brain is clearly closing down, though my fading hearing is also playing a part as I need to spend more effort on listening.

Finished my article on wartime cheese production last night. It’s quite instructive, thinking back, because I have become so used to a fine variety of cheese the days of cabinets filled with blocks of Cheddar had just about faded from my memory. Cheddar, Red Leicester, Double Gloucester and Stilton were, it seemed, the only British cheeses. When we visited grandparents the shops had Lancashire and Wensleydale and I used to nag my parents to buy some to take home. And ice cream from Mrs Hudsons.

Ah, nostalgia!

It looked a lot better in real life, and tasted good too. I really must brush up on my food photography. 

 

 

 

A Tale of Two Pies

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Vegetables – Carsington Water

And, with one blog . . .

This is 81/81.

Assuming I have enough brain cells to remember to post this, I have caught up. Of course, looking at the date, I realise it is now time to panic about my submissions for the end of the month. Fortunately I have managed to do some work on them so I may be OK this month.

Sausage and mash tonight, a favourite staple. later in the week we will be having chestnut and mushroom pie, as it’s time to extend my vegetarian repertoire. I’m also going to be doing a Woolton Pie as part of my WW2 rationing research. Currently, I’m struggling to find photos for my cheese article, so a few photos of wartime recipes will fill some gaps for me. Julia has already refused to eat Kensington Rarebit or Potato Rarebit if I make them, which is, to be honest, a bit of a relief. Kensington Rarebit is OK but mashed potato and grated cheese on toast (aka Potato Rarebit) is only marginally worse than the idea of Cheese and Tomato Kedgeree.

Woolton Pie

Chestnut and Mushroom Pie is a Hairy Bikers recipe, Woolton pie was developed by François Latry, head chef of the Savoy Hotel. I’m becoming more sophisticated as I cook . . .

I must be getting better as I’m interested in cookery again. When I’m ill I lose interest. Even worse, I sometimes become interested and never quite get round to it.

Now I need a strategy for getting ahead of he count. If I can just squeeze in an extra post each week, I will soon have a surplus and will finish with uneven production, but 365/365, which is the objective this year.

Stir Fry Vegetables

Today’s photos are what crop up when I search for “vegetables”. I wish I’d organised my phoos better.

 

 

 

 

A Surfeit of Sloth

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Yesterday afternoon I wrote a blog post and Julia called me through to have a cup of tea. I saved the text and went off with good intentions. Later I returned to the computer, finished the shopping order, wrote more of my piece on cheese in WW2 and then went to have my evening meal, which I confusingly call “tea”. That turned into watching TV and chatting and suddenly it was past midnight. I had had a pleasant and relaxing day, but I had forgotten to add photos and publish.

Intentions – 10/10.

Results – 0/10.

Verdict – could do better.

It’s not the first time I’ve heard those words.

I’m now going to admit something and apologise – I’m behind with my reading of posts and I may be unable to catch up. Sorry to everyone I normally visit, but it could be some time yet.

Yesterday’s post was a reference to 79 posts in 80 days. This is now 80 in 81, but I am seriously hoping to make it 81/81 with another post today. However, that was also yesterday’s plan, so we will have to see what happens.

Laziness expands to fill the available space, as we so often see. Speaking as a poet, “sloth” may have fitted better there, but it always strikes me as a bit of a slander on a harmless creature that never wanted to be known for its speed and industry anyway.

But back to the plan, it’s definitely a day for hard work and catching up, though just saying it makes me feel tired. I will add more spring photos as an antidote.

Sorry to all you sloths out there – the title just came to me and it was too good to waste.

 

 

Day 80 Post 79

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The gardens at Springfields

Neither figure in the title is particularly significant, but together they tell me I am one post behind my target. This is, to be fair, the story of my life. My approach to life can be summed up by the phrases “good enough” or “that’ll do” so it’s no surprise that I’m hovering around my target. Around, but not above.

The title is also a sneaky time-saving device. Next time I want to check on progress I have a place to start and can avoid the time spent in counting the first 79 posts and 80 days. Is that, I wonder, a sign that I am well-organised, or a sign that I am lazy?

Whatever it is, it is definitely a sign that I need to write an extra post to get back on target.

It’s also a sign that the year is nearly quarter of the way through. It’s my favourite bit. The magnolias are coming out, even though they will soon be a mass of decaying petals. The lilacs and the laburnums will soon be out and, before you know it, the year will be on the downward slope to autumn. It’s definitely a bitter-sweet time of year.

Meanwhile, looking up magnolias I went on a journey through the Southern states of the USA and a history of lynching via Strange Fruit.

Looking forward to Spring

I’ll just link to a text article, you will have to sort out your favourite version of the song. I wasn’t sure whether to link to Billie Holiday or Nina Simone in the first place. Then I discovered that Siouxsie Sioux covered it. It’s not, I feel, a great version, but it does add a bit of variety. It’s amazing where blogging takes you.

Spring in the Mencap Garden

 

Time Passes . . .

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Sandsend – river and bridge

Despite resorting to the questionable tactic of dropping a numismatic article into the day before yesterday’s post, I still managed to miss posting yesterday. There are 24 hours in a day, how do I mange to miss  out on finding 20 minutes to write a blog post?

I also managed to avoid doing anything else of much use. I took Julia to the nurse for her shingles booster. She then mowed the lawn and spent the rest of the day telling me how much her arm ached. Well, as i said, shingles vaccine  is well known for being likely to ache, so would it not have been better to have rested than to cut the lawn? She, of course, disagreed, despite the evidence.

Beach at Sandsend

I caught up on some correspondence with people I owed emails to. I would like to be an old-fashioned letter writer but emails are so much simpler. Even so, it’s possible to let months pass by without replying.

Here’s a question. I have a lot of redundant email addresses in my system. Some are people I can’t even remember, some are dead. I occasionally delete a few (mainly parents of kids who played for teams I managed) but I find that I can’t bring myself to delete the addresses of friends who have died. Is this normal? Or am I exhibiting signs of an unhealthy attachment to the past?

Microlight over Sandsend

Is there room for a modern ghost story where someone uses such an address and gets a reply? Or has it already been done? I won’t do it, as I don’t read ghost stories.

We are about to have an early lunch – Julia has to go to the tea room and I have to go to the doctor.  Retirement is not quite as relaxing as I had planned. I am going to have to start using a diary again.

Whitby Church. Ideal place for a ghost story

Whitby Abbey – is that creaking the opening of a coffin lid?

Sandsend pictures are a lovely clear day in March 2017.

 

The Pioneer Wagon Works of the West

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A story about a medallion. It seemed better than a rant about politics.

It seemed interesting and had plenty of information on it – a factory, a slogan, some dates, a picture of a wagon and the name of an agent in Salt Lake City. Surely, I thought, there will be something about this medallion I can research.

And, as it turned out, a simple search was rewarded with a flood of information. It seems that Mr Schuttler and his company were famous, and the wagons are still sought after by collectors of such things. There is plenty of information, including a three part article on his life, his family and his wagons, accounts of his haunted house and auction reports showing a continuing interest in his products.

Peter Schuttler (1812 – 1865) moved from Germany to the USA in 1834, and worked building wagons. After several changes of job and town, he ended up in Chicago and, in 1843, opened his own workshop. Helped by the California Gold Rush of 1849 and the Mormon Migration of 1855, the business expanded and by the mid-1850s, his works employed 100 people and built around 1,800 wagons a year. The brand soon developed a reputation for being well built and well designed, with every part, even the nuts and bolts, being made in the factory.

He was one of the richest men in Chicago at the time of his death in 1865, and was in the final stages of building his famous mansion, which cost $500,000 ($9.6 million in today’s values) and included architectural features imported from Germany. It had the reputation of being both cursed and haunted. Schuttler’s death was attributed to blood poisoning caught when he cut himself on a protruding nail, after which he cursed it from his death bed. It declined, and, after an unhappy history, was eventually demolished in 1911.

The company rebuilt the factory after the Chicago Fire of 1871 and by 1904 was producing 20,000 wagons a year. However, technology was changing and the company did not change with the times. They produced a fine quality wagon in an age that was turning to cars. It was like claiming to produce the best abacus in a world of personal computers. They sold their carriage works and equipment in 1921 and the rest of their business in the 1940s. The last wagons bearing the Schuttler name were produced by the new owners in the 1950s.

The medallion is 33mm in diameter and made from white metal. The last dated award mentioned is 1876. They won an award at the Columbian Exhibition in 1893, which was commemorated by a medallion, so this suggests a date of between 1876 and 1893 for this medallion. There are similar Schuttler medallions in a variety of metals and sizes, some similar to this example, but with different agent’s names,

The obverse, with a depiction of the post-1871 factory has the wording “THE PIONEER WAGON WORKS/OF THE WEST./ESTABLISHED 1843/PETER SCHUTTLER CHICAGO.”

The maker’s name – J. S. Weber is just visible on the edge of the factory base. The reverse, which is in coin orientation, shows a wagon with the following text “MFR.OF FARM FREIGHT & SPRING WAGONS/FIRST/PREMIUM” around the top and “PARIS 1867/PHILADELPHIA/1876/GEO. A. LOWE. AGT. SALT LAKE CITY.” on the lower part.

George A. Lowe (1836-1903), according to information on Facebook, was born in Massachusetts, married in 1866, when his profession was given as “Dealer in farm machinery” and by 1880 was living in Salt Lake City and listed as a “Wagon Agent”. He died unexpectedly of heart failure in 1903, having been well known in Business, Political and Social Affairs in the area.

A Bad Start

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Razorbill

Oh dear. Another day and another stack of projects piling up. Big news of the day is that we are having a man out to look at reasons for the non-functioning nature of our gas boiler. So far he has quoted us £99 for the call out and first hour, and arranged an appointment for 10.00 this morning. It’s 11.32 and he has not, so far, shown up or rung to tell us he is going to be late. This is not the 5 Star service promised by the feedback on his site.

This house hates me.

Puffins at Bempton

Last night we were cold. There’s a nasty cold wind about and we have no supplementary heating unless we turn the oven on. The gas fire is a mystery and we couldn’t even start to guess how to use it and we had nothing else apart from candles and hot water bottles.

I say “had” because I ordered a heater last night and it arrived this morning. I’m hoping we won’t need it, but I’d rather waste money on a heater we don’t need than freeze.

Anyway, even if the gas man turns up, there’s no guarantee he will be able to fix it so why take the risk?

Gannets

Apart from the gas, the bathroom light switch is giving trouble (we have already had two switches replaced) and the lights in the hallway are playing up. There are three different light switches to control them and sometimes hey don’t work. Julia is convinced that there is a loose wire and disaster is imminent. Julia, apart from her talent as a destroyer of electrical equipment (sometimes a single glance will incapacitate an appliance), could also double as Cassandra, if the Ancient Greeks ever need a replacement. Me, I think they have been wired so that they sometimes get out of phase. I’m prepared to be wrong but everything I’ve learned about the builder of this place indicates that shortcuts were taken and he probably didn’t ue the right switches to do the job. Watch this space.

Kittiwakes

Photos are from one of our Bempton trips.

Disjointed Notes

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I had a rejection yesterday afternoon. I’m currently at 5 and 3 with two more to go. The worst it can now be is 5 and 5, and 50% isn’t too bad. I’ve written enough on that subject recently so I will pass on to other subjects.

How about a Flying Saucer? We ate there several times when going to see Julia’s family as it used to be at the point where we turned off the A1. I was sure it was there for longer than the time frame reported in the article, but my mind plays tricks these days. I found an article about it while browsing the internet but this link is better.

I then went on to read a list of amusing rude names for British towns and villages. However, I’m trying to portray the image of a clean-living, serious-minded poet here, so I won’t provide the link as it’s not for the fainthearted and I wouldn’t want to upset anyone.

This one, on the other hand, is quite interesting. The trophy, which is even more interesting, cost £125 when it was made, which was a lot of money at the time.

We had steak for tea. Julia received two boxes of gifts for Mothering Sunday via Amazon, so I thought the least I could do was produce a decent meal. I did oven chips, as they always seem better than wedges, and I found, as usual, that onion rings at home are never as good as onion rings when eating out. We also had peas with garlic and mushrooms, so I kept the veg level reasonable. My vision didn’t extend as far as a fancy pudding so we had fresh fruit.

You need very finely chopped garlic when making the peas (a new recipe for me, if you can call it that), every time I peel  garlic clove I remember an incident with a teacher. I was demonstrating on the farm and had trouble peeling one. He told me, in front of the whole class, it wasn’t even worth trying to peel cloves as it wasn’t possible.  Several teachers did that sort of thing o me. I doubt they would have appreciated me walking into class and correcting them in front of their pupils.

I needed three more and prepared each of them in seconds. It’s normally that easy, and he looked like an idiot.

Whenever I peel a clove of garlic these days I think of him and regret the incident. I shouldn’t have continued to peel the cloves, but I needed them and couldn’t think of a tactful way to do it and let him save face. Having said that, much as I regret it, he brought it on himself. A true dilemma, and not really my fault, even though I do feel bad about it.

I’ll post some pizza photos from my great days as a baking instructor, such as they were.