New Plans

A Hamster Analogy

In the car park at Carsington Water – storm clouds

Today I have blogged. I have been to the doctor. I have lunched on homemade soup (the last of the butternut and sage soup) and I have watched quizzes. I have also, to be fair, watched a bit of TV, snoozed, eaten tea and stared at a screen hoping for a miracle after wiping out 300 words in one of those glitches that sometimes occurs. It can’t be my fault entirely. I clearly delete my work with some random selection of key strokes, but WP really should have a better way to stop me doing it. Even Open Office, which is free, stops me destroying my own work.

In between all this I have also got to grips with sorting out submissions for the end of the month. That is tomorrow. Even as I group the poems for final transmission, I find I am still tinkering with them. I am now down to changing the odd word – the finest of fine tuning.

On Wednesday, when all the dust has settled I am going to rethink my life. There must be a beter way to work.

The poetry is going quite well, if I am honest, and I am happy to continue with hat.

The society web pages and newsletter, I am less happy with. It seems a lot of effort for little result and the bulk of the work seems to rest on just two people. As nobody is helping it seems fair to deduce that the bulk of the members aren’t bothered and won’t notice if I stop.

And, of course, I really do need to get myself better organised. However, saving a day a week by cutting out some of the work is a quicker fix than saving twenty minutes here and there by sorting myself out and not looking at Wikipedia.

Daffodils in Nottingham

After all, I’m retired, and I don’t want to replace one lot of work with another lot of work.

First reorganisation – buy a new keyboard, it’s taking me ages every day just checking all the t’s are where they are supposed to be.

And it just took me ten minutes to check that t’s is correct in that context – more time wasted, but it looked wrong when I did it.

Photos will just be random. I have run out of ideas. I selected April 2018.

Robin

Rats

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Squirrel in a bin – Clitheroe Castle

We had quite a lot of interesting bird and animal behaviour in the garden in the last few weeks – the regular appearance of greenfinches and goldfinches in the garden after a winter absence, the long-tailed tit that stared in at me, the squirrel eating samphire and, most notably, a rat chasing a squirrel. It was a small rat and the squirrel was quite a bit bigger, but it sill ran off. The rat tried to follow it into a shrub but the squirrel was up and away well before the rat could make a start.

I don’t like rats. I particularly don’t like rats when they come into our garden under the fence from other garden. We keep our garden as clear as we can from excess bird food and it annoys me that other people clearly don’t. Unfortunately we can’t keep it clean 100% of the time, even though we only feed modest amounts on the ground. If rats come out in daylight, they will find food before the birds have finished it. I say rats, there are two of them as far as we can see. We aren’t exactly overrun with them, , but we don’t want more so we have to act.

Squirrel at Rufford

The trap I bought, and baited with delicious peanut butter has failed to tempt them. Spreading chopped chillies on the ground failed to stop them, mainly because the pigeons ate the chillies before they could do any good.

Today, I have netting arriving and we will be attempting to block the route under the fence.

Other choices include ultrasonic devices, and strongly scented oils. I’m trying to avoid poisons (including baking soda variations), and the obvious cure – stopping feeding the birds.

I could also learn to live with rats, but years of keeping poultry has conditioned me to get rid of them. Same goes for the years of being warned of rat-borne disease.

No pictures of rats, so I went with squirrels.

Lord Woolton Pie

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Although it has come down in the world since 1940, being just plain Woolton Pie today, it is an icon of WW2, having been mentioned in Dad’s Army, and by many elderly relatives, though not with any great affection.

Originally, having being developed by Francois Latry ((1889-1966), the head chef of the Savoy Hotel in London from 1919-42, it was on the menu as Lord Woolton Pie, named after the Minister of Food, whom was responsible for rationing. He is chiefly remembered for his Lord Woolton Pie, though he did assist Woolton in developing a range of dishes.

He is pictured on a website preparing a bear for roasting in 1921 when Bear Ham was on the menu, garnished with chestnuts. it was on the menu for Christmas Dinner at the Savoy and had not been eaten since the days of Henry VIII. I’m surprised he isn’t better known for this but he papers seem to have taken it in their stride and expressed neither horror nor surprise. . In answer to your first question, I haven’t a clue where he sourced his bears. To answer you second question, yes, bear meat is generally considered quite palatable, though can be a bit of a lottery depending on what it has been eating. This website gives you further details and has links to cooking mountain lions and 12 foot alligators.

It first came to public notice in April 1941, when The Times published the recipe and described it as “good”, “economical” and “wholesome”.

However, they later said: “When Woolton pie was being forced on somewhat reluctant tables, Lord Woolton performed a valuable service by submitting to the flashlight camera at public luncheons while eating, with every sign of enjoyment, the dish named after him.”

I imagine it would be tricky to tell people to eat Woolton Pie whilst eating something else.

Personally, I don’t have a problem with it as it’s more or less the vegetable stew I make every week, and the vegetable base for the corned beef hash recipe I developed. I just cover it with a crust.

My sister gave it the seal of approval, though she is vegetarian and is used to this sort of thing. Julia was less enthusiastic as she can’t see why it needs a crust when we normally have it with dumplings.

The “original” recipe is available on The 1940’s Experiment, which has many other interesting recipes and leaflets. I used a stock cube and Henderson’s relish instead of Marmite and a mix of parsnip and swede (rutabaga) to prevent excessive sweetness. I also missed out the parley because I forgot to order it, and used ready rolled pastry because I am lazy.

I probably won’t make it again as it’s easier to make vegetable stew with dumplings, but it was perfectly acceptable and I’d be happy to eat it again if someone cooked it for me.

It is served with gravy. We had spiced red cabbage (frozen and forgotten at Christmas) and roasted brussels with the left over chestnuts from the Mushroom & Chestnut Pie, though the original seems to have been served on its own.

Influencers, Doom and Renewable Energy

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Just a quick note to anyone expecting a post on a serious note about Renewable Energy, – sorry, you have been misled by a flippant title.

Sorry, too, about yesterday’s post, it got a bit close to midnight and I decided to take a shortcut and use a poem to fill the gap. However, do not fear, the lapse into culture is only temporary and I am now back to carping about the modern world.

I’ve just been reading about influencers. There are millions of them, they are an important marketing resource for big brands, they sometimes lack credibility (sometimes?) and although the article was written using English words, it made no sense. I am left with a feeling of doom after looking at the future of he human race.

I used to worry, when I started blogging, that I had nothing to say and was being very arrogant in thinking that people would be interested in reading about my life. This has been a consistent thought as I am still amazed that anyone stops by regularly to read.

I’m even more amazed that people have millions of followers based on content that I don’t remember. Some do comedy sketches, one gave a way a million dollars, and I can’t actually remember what the rest of them wrote about. I’m fairly sure that it is, like my trivia, easily forgettable, and in the absence of paper copies won’t even do for tomorrow’s chip wrappings or budgie cages.

The other thing I was thinking about was renewable energy. There is surprisingly little work being done on generating power by forking influencers into a furnace. In fact, since the Middle Ages, there has been little work done at all on sinners, forks and furnaces.

Clare Pooley did a good post on the Wenhaston Doom. Anyone who can write a blog about flowers growing out of a wall, manacles and Church architecture should be encouraged. Why not visit her blog and tell her you’d like to see more of her writing? No pressure Clare . . .

Pictures are of various Dooms from around the country – we really are very lucky to have so much history all around us.

More Poetry

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My Orange Parker Pen

This is a tanka prose that was first published in Blithe Spirit 36.1, the journal of the British Haiku Society, in February this year. It is different from the original version, which was about eggs and lockdown and parents. This is about writing a poem and cooking eggs. It deviates slightly from reality as I mention coffee, where we always have tea for breakfast. Tea doesn’t really smell so I took the lazy way out and said we had coffee so I could add an extra sense to the poem.

But first, a tanka, from the same issue. It is based on the annual culling of the Christmas card list as my circle of cousins decreases.

old Christmas card
displayed again
fading slightly
sent by a man
who will not send another

I thought that’s what it was about, anyway. Julia reads it as a story about the Christmas card I have been sending her since 1988. It’s a good one and the message is still relevant. Why waste money, I ask, on another?

Life, seen in a Frying Pan

In lockdown, I decided to make better scrambled eggs and wrote a poem in my head as I stirred and learned. It spilled onto paper, took shape and, like the eggs, looked good. On the first rejection I checked all the words and moved them into better order. On the second I added an anecdote, on the third an allegory. At the fourth attempt I slimmed it down.

After five attempts I wondered if it might be bad, or if editors might dislike poems about scrambled eggs. When you think about it, it isn’t a subject you ever see. Eventually it faded from my mind, as poems like it often do. Recently, stirring eggs and making breakfast for my wife, I breathed in the toast and coffee smells and remembered the first line.

five eggs
two broken yolks
a speck of shell
things which are not perfect
still turn out well

The pen that Julia made at the wood turning group

Birds and Squirrels

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Long-Tailed Tits

It’s 9.00 am. I have answered comments and caught up on reading some posts (though there is still more to be done).

We have a trough in the back garden. Julia refers to it as a raised bed, but it isn’t. A raised bed is a bed that has had sides added and the soil level has been raised.

A trough is a box of soil on legs.

Anybody else have an opinion? If you agree with me, I will tell her. If you agree with her I will ignore you.

Crow

Anyway, at the back of the rough is a trellis. We grew beans on it last year and it was quite successful. A few days ago, as I washed up after breakfast a Long Tailed it perched on it and looked a me through he kitchen window. They are exquisite birds, and very small. The tail, I think, accentuates the smallness of the body. We looked at each other for what seemed like ages before it flew off to stare at something more interesting.

Later, as I walked to the doctor (from the car, not from the house) I saw two crows on the grass. One seemed to be preening the head of he other. I suspected it was some sort of courtship behavior, but hve never really taken much notice of crows before. According to the internet, crows do participate in preening behaviour as part of their courtship. I’m 67 and now ashamed of myself that I’d never known this about crows before.

Then a squirrel surprised me by walking across from the feeders and onto the patio. Standing up, it began to nibble at the potted samphire plant. We aren’t sure whether it liked the seeds or the salt but it stayed a while and also came back later.

Pied Wagtail

Finally, on yesterday’s viit to the doctor, I was sitting in the cat when a couple of pied wagtails whizzed past. I was very windy and with the following wind they were unusually speedy and, with their long tails, looked a bit like rockets on stick.

The Pie Report

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The pie on the website

The recipe I based the pie on was a Hairy Biker’s recipe called Vegetarian Chestnut and Mushroom Pie. It is available here on the BBC website. I followed the recipe almost to the letter, but substituted white wine for the marsala (it had been hanging round since Christmas) and used English mustard instead of Dijon. I always like to follow the recipe first time round, then you know if i works or not. It did. Everyone liked it and when I discussed making it simpler and cheaper Julia has suggested trying it without chestnuts but keeping the rest of it the same. Time for a costing and an evaluation.

The filling

The dried mushrooms cost £100 a kilo, which sounds a lot. However, the recipe only calls for 15g, which is £1.50. I used fewer chestnuts than recommended but there will still plenty and I have enough to sir-fry some with brussels at the end of the week. Call that £1.50 too. Wine? We usually have something around that will do, so by the time you add pastry (60p), leeks and mushrooms you have a pie which cost us around £5 and served three.

A “good” supermarket pie will cost about £4 and serve two, and won’t be a patch on this one, so I’m going to stop worrying about cost.

My version, showing contents

I still need to try a cheaper version as an alternative for when I want something and don’t have dried mushrooms and chestnuts in the cupboard but I’m not going to mess around just to reduce costs.

Cocaine costs about £30,000 a kilo (according to a website I found whilst researching prices) and Chinese meals, even when divided into two in a frugal manner, still cost more than this pie so I really need to take a look at my attitude to food and life in conjunction with the cost of pies. I don’t, in case you are wondering, advocate cocaine, or any illegal drug, as a substitute for a good wholesome pie, but just thought (having been horrified by the cost of dried mushrooms per kilo) that it would make an interesting comparison.

Once again my vision is not quite borne out by the photo

Rhino Horn is about £44,500 per kilo in China and has no proven scientific value, in case you were wondering how it compared.

The internet is a wonderful thing, as I have said before. A very tasty pie recipe, a quick look at illicit drug prices and an overview of rhino poaching countermeasures – where else can you get all that? Even modern TV doesn’t have that variety to offer within 20 minutes.

I am going to resist putting “”cocaine” and “rhino horn” in the tags, as I don’t want to attract unwanted attention.

The pie before cutting

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

quercuscommunity

Life after the Care Farm