Summer's Bounty

I do love June. Not just because my garden becomes a riot of colour, with peonies bursting into lush blossom, poppies dancing around in frilly skirts and the catmint swaying in the breeze, but because it's soft fruit season.

I don't know about anyone else, but I think it's sad that gooseberries are still seen as such unfashionable fruit; our local fruit farm in the village had many punnets sitting on the shelves (leaping around in lumpy fields is still a little beyond me yet) and they were perfect for jam, as they were wonderfully firm. Out came the maslin pan, the sugar supply in the village shop plummeted and finally, my jam jar collection was broken out. I love gooseberry jam, as it's sweet enough, but has that lovely bite that gives it real depth. The fruit held together well, which gave a lovely consistence when spread on toast.

I decided not to bother with strawberry jam this year - it's not something I like to eat often and I have a bit of a 'mental block' after my last attempt, which ended up as strawberry concrete! Apricots, however, always work a treat and this year was no exception. I tried a different recipe for my apricot jam, from a very pompous little book my son had given me last year for my birthday "The Right Way To Make Jam" by Cyril Grange. Now, Cyril may have irked me with the title, but the recipes from this little book have delighted and surprised me; the apricot jam came out better than I have ever managed, and I pride myself on how well I can make it. Sigh, now I had two varieties to spread on my morning toast and this does not bode well for my waist measurement! So, with temptation in the fridge, I got a call from a friend asking if I'd make her a pot of lemon curd - I had sent her one before and it seems she had enjoyed it enough to ask for seconds.

I haven't made lemon curd for ages, as standing at the cooker for twenty minutes was more than I could manage for a long time. Now that I have my one bionic hip, things have improved greatly, and though the other one has deteriorated badly, it seems that I can stand and put all my weight through the new hip for as long at it takes to make curd, yippee! So, there I was getting pinker in the cheeks on a hot day, stirring for England and the result is now potted and in the fridge. Our local shopkeeper said he'd be happy to stock my lemon curd in the village shop, so I sent a pot for him and his wife to try and they like it too, so I shall have to think about whether it's viable to make it on a small scale for curd connoisseurs in Shepton! I shall be posting a pot to my friend tomorrow, so that I can make sure it goes by 'next day delivery', especially in this hot weather.

I haven't managed to get any good black currants this year, though I'd dearly love to, as black currant jam is so lush and lights up the darker days of winter. Let's not forget the coming raspberry season - raspberries are just so gorgeous, though making jam is a challenge, as Kim will quite happily sit and devour pounds of them at a time, so I shall have to wait until he's not around before attempting jam.

That's what I love about June - there's a wonderful outlet for creativity in the kitchen, even though I'm so stacked up with work that I've spent the greater part of my weekend slogging over a deployment and muttering darkly under my breath - oh well, I'd be moaning if I didn't have the work, so I suppose I shouldn't grumble! It's good that I'm so busy now too, as I'm on the list for the other hip to be replaced, and it can't come soon enough. Another operation will mean a time when I'm not up to much work-wise, so the more I can do now, the better.

Right, I'm off to make a large mug of tea and pore over my Women's Institute Book Of Preserves that Kim gave me yesterday as an early birthday present - it's gorgeous, well laid out and there are so many recipes I want to try that I could spend a week in the kitchen and still not have done half of them - but I shall start with Chilli-Lilli, a much more colourful version of piccalilli that looks just divine - more later on how I fare.

Couscous and Kindness

Another sunny day and warm pavements, with a light breeze today - I could get used to this!

Today I was naughty and bunked off work to have lunch out with a friend (I'll catch up tonight). We wandered into Ilminster and she took me to a delightful vegetarian cafe; I had never even noticed it before, but it hasn't even got a sign outside, so it's easy to pass by. It's apparently open four days a week, and what a treat.

It was in a hamstone building and the thickness of the walls meant that after a slog up the steep hill (steep hills are hard with walking sticks I've discovered) it was nice and cool. I had Moroccan mezze and it was delightful; the Victorian lemonade a perfect accompaniment. After lunch I grabbed some cake so that we could have tea and cake when I dropped her back at her house, but sadly my hip (the stupid one that hasn't been fixed yet) flared up, so I quit and went home while I could still get in and out of the car.

Before I left, my friend J presented me with a loaf she had baked for me - it was such a thoughtful thing to do and it smelled divine. My car was a bubble of fresh bread smell all the way home and it took my mind of the aches, thinking about how to have it for tea. J and her husband had been to a flour mill and liked the flour so much they had taken sacks of it home with them. That reminded me that I have run out of flour - must head off to the shop and get some for when this loaf tuns out.

I had meant to meet J's new cat, who adopted them by moving into the garage at the beginning of winter and gradually integrating herself into the family - she will have to wait until another time, and it means I still have that pleasure to look forward to. While we were talking J mentioned that she had met a lady who makes her own elderflower cordial and that she wanted to have a go at it. It's been something I have wanted to do for a while, but a lack of mobility has rather scuppered any attempts to get near the flowers when I've spotted any. After our trip out, I'm now armed with citric acid, I have sugar, lemons in the fridge and all I need are the blooms - I may venture out tomorrow, when I hopefully won't feel so sore. That's another thing to look forward to!

Somerset The Beautiful

Oh my goodness, I had forgotten just how lovely the county of Somerset is. I went off on a trip to Norton Fitzwarren and then on to Milverton today, and it's rare these days that I go north or west of Taunton. I was setting off for home and my satnav decided to take me down a small B road, I suspect to avoid Taunton; it was a good plan until the hi-vis vested man diverted me and another car off the road, as they were re-surfacing.

What a wonderful drive. I lost my sense of direction, which is rare and quite discomfiting, but the trip was delightful. I have often pointed the nose of my car down unknown lanes and byways, with no map on board and no idea of where the roads lead to, just for an adventure and to see where it takes me. I'm rarely disappointed and always find something to delight in the new scenery. Today was no different, but it also reminded me of when I first came to Somerset.

I first moved to Somerset in 2003 and stayed with someone in a place too tiny to call a hamlet in the Exmoor National Park, not too far from Minehead. Poor old Minehead, once a genteel town, it becomes a complete armpit in the summer months with the suppurating boil that is Butlins. Go a few miles out from Minehead and the countryside is lovely; rich red soil, high banked hedges and space to breathe. I spent a few months near Rodhuish and thought I should end up settling near there. Fast forward a while and I ended up in south Somerset; a very different topography and feeling, as it's softer and more lush, but lacks the slightly wild feel of my first roost.

Travelling north and west of Taunton today, I saw all the red sandstone houses and the hills starting to rise and it reminded me of those early days and reminded me of how hugely varied and exciting the different parts of Somerset are. I must do trips like that more often. And next time I must take my camera!

There's always Something Good In Adverstiy

Ok, adversity may be a bit of a strong term, but silver linings in clouds seemed too trite. Mr Smelly Cat and I had prawns for supper last night. I was being good and had a big crunchy salad and prawns, Mr Smelly just had the prawns. They looked ok, they smelled ok but they were not ok. You get the idea... me moving at supersonic speeds, walking sticks flailing. I recovered by the small hours and had high hopes that it was just one prawn, and that Mr Smelly would be all right. He's so old, 18 in early June, and frail, so any upset is a huge setback for the old boy.

Oh dear. This morning the kitchen, where he's confined overnight (not a cruelty, he's senile and gets lost otherwise) wasn't nice. So, I had only been talking to Kim the other day about kneeling down and how I thought it would be ok for me to do it. In his usual manner, he was over-protective and exhorted me not to, and that's where we left the discussion. This morning, there was no way I could clear up the disasters without getting on my knees.... but how to get down there? I'm only 5'3" (well, I may be back to my original 5'4" now I've had my hip fixed!), so it's not a long way to go, but it's bloomin' scary when you've a) not done it in months and b) there's nobody about to help in case I got stuck or toppled. Still, the smell of cat diahrroeah is a wonderful spur to try new things!

I fetched in my garden kneeler, which has been doing duty as a tea cup stand next to the garden bench until I can use it for its intended purpose, and off I went. Now, I'm sure you've already had quite enough detail about Mr Smelly's extrusions, so let's just say that the kneeler worked very well indeed, though it would have been improved by a nose peg. Job done, disinfectant wielded, it was time to sit down, give my knees a break and feel pleased at another little step forward in my mobility.

Poor Mr Smelly Cat, I don't think he'll be scrounging for prawns again any time soon!

I Won The Poppy Race!

Ok, call me childish (and I'll answer to it), but I won the poppy race with SwimmingInTarot. Now, this wasn't much of a race, considering she's in much colder climes than me, but it was jolly nice to have an excuse to get the camera out and snap some flowers.

Here she is, in all her glorious pinkness:




So delicate and transitory, but so inspiring



And this jolly embodiment of sunshine, in the darkest corner of the garden:



Eeeeee! It's a tiny, baby apple - we only planted our tiny espalier a short while ago and it looks like it's thriving.



The cat mint has gone bonkers - it's poking up everywhere though, thankfully, Mr Smelly is ignoring it as it makes him a bit grumpy.



A sunny allium in a pot that should have been weeded ages ago... but I do have an excuse. It's on top of the garage, so I just can't get to it; that's my story and I'm sticking to it (I rather like Herb Robert and don't have the heart to pull it all out).



The outside racks where I'm hardening off my baby vegetables:



Errr... yes, that's a whole lot of rhubarb. Methinks I shall have enough rhubarb, when this matures, to make jam and crumbles for the whole village!



Ok, it looks very boring, but this is the conservatory wall where I'm going to grow my ogen melons, so hopefully I shall have a picture later in the year showing it all covered in foliage and luscious melons:



My little table in the conservatory where I sit and pot up the veggie seedlings and generally get very earthy and calm:


(that yellow thing you can see through the scullery window is my chainsaw safety helmet with sexy black mesh visor, just in case you didn't believe I really had one!)

Just One Flower Bed In My Tiny Garden!

My garden is just such a lovely place at the moment. The apple blossom has gone, but there are so many delights that I thought I'd let the pictures speak for themselves.



Isn't the pink just lovely?



It won't be long before this beauty bursts forth.



Today, my little peony opened her beautiful head, though there are many more to come.



And the bluebells still going strong...



The wonderful purple of my aquilegia that I can see from the kitchen table.



And a close-up so you can see just how luscious the colour is!

Words really can't do these lovelinesses justice.

Four, Three, Two... Legs That is

I have been meaning to post for the six weeks since my operation, but somehow, despite writing reams, I never quite felt right about pressing the Publish button. Perhaps the gory details of the operation weren't meant to be shared, or perhaps the first few weeks of mewing self-pity and wimpering woe-begone-ness were just too awful to inflict on any unfortunate passer by.

Now, at slightly over six weeks after my operation, I am feeling like a human being again; still a clunky and inelegant one, but so much better than before. The only pain I get now is from my "old" hip, the un-operated one that still needs replacement, but the new bionic one is absolutely amazing. I'm also getting oedema in my ankles and feet which is a right pain (literally as well as figuratively) and today I finally caved in and went and bought myself a pair of soft velcro trainers that have done wonders for me. Not elegant or chic, but very kind to my lower extremities.

Best of all, I climbed into my car for the first time in seven weeks last Friday and drove. I had to make sure I could do an emergency stop - I suppose that being able to move one's right leg rapidly on to the brake pedal is important - and then I was away. Being able to drive again coincided with some pleasant work trips that I have to make locally each morning, and the road takes me through tiny country lanes that have more potholes than tarmac and a profusion of wildlife all around... and the whole experience of being under my own steam and setting out each morning on such a lovely journey has been uplifting.

And the title...? Well, on leaving hospital, three days after the operation, I had two walking sticks and looked like a strange four-legged creature, as it took a while for me to learn to walk really upright again. I 'graduated' to one stick, but that was a bit of a disaster, as the old, arthritic hip meant I kept moving into all sorts of odd contortions and walking upright became a challenge. This week, as well as lots of other milestones, I have managed to walk about with no sticks at all, even though mostly indoors and not for great distances - oh, but it feels wonderful. On top of all that, I have managed to put aside some of the 'aids' that have filled the house for the past six weeks and it feel just fantastic. I feel "normal" again, whatever that is - I'm rejoining the human race. There's still a long way to go, but it's nice to feel that I've started the journey.