Thursday 31 December 2009

Quiet day

It's one of those strange days. It's almost eerily silent. I suppose the quiet is all the more noticeable because yesterday an icy wind was blowing everything around. Gates & fences rattled. It was bin day, so bins & rubbish were being blown along the road. Now the wind has died down, but the icy chill remains.

It's strange, too, because I've nothing much to do. I peeled some spuds for dinner
yesterday . Then in the afternoon we went to see Helen to see how she was doing after her op just before Christmas. By the time we were back we didn't feel like cooking so we went down to our village pub & ate out. The Fox is cooking today. He'll use up yesterday's potatoes, so there's nothing more for me to do now.

I'm glad to say Helen is doing well. She's trying to remember to be careful as she goes, but I'm confident she'll be back to her usual busy self by the end of the month, once more out and about, baking for all the family, at the Pub from time to time, going to play her badminton etc. She seems, too, to have coped well with her first Christmas without MK. That can't have been easy.

And so we go into the new year tonight. I wish you all a HAPPY NEW YEAR. May it bring you great joy and not too many headaches.


Wednesday 30 December 2009

Van Gogh

I've just been listening to the "Book of the Week: Vincent van Gogh - the Letters" on BBC Radio 4. It's the second episode I've heard. I missed yesterday's somehow.I also listened to "Van Gogh: Seeing Red" which was on Radio 4 yesterday. Both I'm really enjoying & would recommend catching up with through the BBC iPlayer if you can.

When I think of Van Gogh, I naturally think of his paintings. My knowledge of his life is limited. I knew about, & can feel his mental health disturbance looking at his paintings. I knew he died in poverty. He had been financially & emotionally supported by his brother Theo throughout his life, as his paintings rarely sold. I knew a little about his background in Holland. And, of course, I knew about his relationship with Gauguin & his cutting his ear off. I've seen Kirk Douglas play him in the film "Lust for Life" after all!

However, I didn't realise he was so well educated, that he lived for several years in England, that he spoke English fluently. I didn't know he loved the arts in all media, that he adored the works of Shakespeare & Dostoyevsky. I didn't realise he only painted for less than 10 years &, when he started, he could barely draw. Above all, I didn't realise how articulate he was in writing. He uses words every bit as colourfully as he used paints.

Today he moved to Arles, in the south of France for some sun & warmth to find it covered in snow. In one of his letters to Theo he describes a starlit night sky he is endeavouring to capture in paint. He concludes it isn't sufficient to paint white dots for stars as the stars come in all sorts of colours, in pinks & yellows as well.

I find myself turning away from the radio & seeing the world in so many more colours. Well worth a listen.

Tuesday 29 December 2009

The big freeze

I'm in the midst of making a pie for dinner. The turkey & mushroom filling is just cooling a bit before I add the pastry top. We're off to the supermarket today.

I'm half-dreading it. One bit of me suspects it will be heaving with people, restocking for the New Year festivities; the other half fears the shelves will be empty, not regarded worth properly refilling until after the end of all the holiday season. But we do need some milk & a few other odds & ends so we will have to go.

There is a bit of me that feels relieved at the idea of doing food shopping. At the best of times supermarket shopping is not a favourite task to do - a necessary evil, that's all. But it is part of everyday normal life & I'm definitely ready to get back to that!

Yesterday we ventured to the Pub. They were very busy, getting ready for one party of over 50 diners, not to mention the usual passing trade. We dropped PD home afterwards.

Even in the couple of hours we'd been in the Pub the car had begun to once more freeze up. The doors were definitely stiff & clunky to open. The main roads were fine but the side roads were very slippery. You could see a fine layer of frost glittering under the street lights. We were glad to get back home.

Throughout the night we kept looking out. The car got ever whiter as the temperatures plummeted. It had never got over freezing all day. I hate to think what it must have got to in the middle of the night. The Fox noticed -10 when he ventured out to the garage at one point. Needless to say today is whiter than ever. I once more put a few extras out for the birds. They're going to need it in this weather.

Monday 28 December 2009

Stereotypes

It's a white world again this morning. The difference is that today it's white due to frost. Everything sparkles in the bright winter sunshine.

I've just been listening to the start of "Woman's Hour" on BBC Radio 4 as I've peeled the spuds for today's dinner. They're talking to various male celebrities who also happen to be listeners to this programme. The host seems surprised so many men listen to a "woman's" programme.

I'm left wondering whether there is, or ever has been, items of interest purely to one sex & not the other. Maybe I speak as a girl who loved her dumper truck as a child, envied boys for their train sets & meccano sets, all generally regarded as of interest only to boys. As for my brother, I think he was relieved when Action Men came in & he could legitimately show an interest in dolls.

As for reading matter, for generations the ladies' page of papers have been littered with articles on fashion & cooking, as though women can't be interested in science & politics.

Another part of my deprived childhood was being told that "Treasure Island" & "Kidnapped", those classics by Robert Louis Stevenson, were for boys only. I did enjoy the girls' allotted diet of "Little Women" etc, but I yearned for other things too. I made up for it later. Even now, I'm dubious about
many romances & would much prefer a romping adventure story or a detective mystery.

As far as I can remember of the subjects covered in "Woman's Hour" this year, the only one of probably little interest to men was how to buy a well fitted bra. Even that I can believe may be of interest to some. After all, some men are lone parents who have to sort out the first bras for their growing daughters. The programme did cover testicular cancer, something I'm unlikely to suffer, but it was nonetheless of interest in case symptoms might arise in the Fox. I suspect men react in a similar way to topics such as hysterectomies.

No. I do not believe any topic is purely of interest to one sex. I do accept, though, not all subjects are of interest to all people. I accept I do fall into the stereotype of women not interested in engines & cars. As long as equipment works & cars get me from A to B, that is the end of my interest. But don't deprive me of the right to possibly have a greater interest in those or any other subjects just because I'm female. I'm equally sure men have the right to have an interest in some traditionally female areas of interest.

Sunday 27 December 2009

The calm before the storm

The snow has all but disappeared. The rain has well and truly arrived, washing away any last remnants of dirty slush.

I'm relieved to be getting back to normal for a day or two. We're celebrating by opening a tin of tuna for dinner. The Fox is going to make a pilaf for a welcome change. After all the rich food the last couple of days, it should be just what we need. And during the afternoon, we will do our usual Sunday afternoon chores - the cleaning & bed changing.

Now we just have the disruption of the New Year celebrations to face. But that never has the same sense of anticipation & anticlimax as Christmas. We usually try to have something special to eat. I usually try to stay up to see the new year in with a bottle of champagne. PD has invited us round to his, to share a Chinese banquet takeaway from our, & their, favourite Chinese restaurant. I doubt we'll go. As I've already said, I'm reluctant to commit to going anywhere these days where I will have to walk late at night. And they have some big doorsteps. Instead we'll stay at home & toast our friends, both local ones & those who live further away.

Saturday 26 December 2009

Survival

We've survived! It felt a little touch & go in the early evening when we got back from our meal at the pub yesterday. The weight of food was incredible, the feeling of bloatedness uncomfortable. We're not used to eating in the middle of the day & a whopping three course meal, generous portions at that, followed by tea & coffee & mince pies is a bit much. The mince pies defeated us all & remained untouched.

The evening did pick up later with "Beauty & the Beast", followed by champers & jazz.

It is with some relief that I turn to more normal routines today. I've prepared a few less spuds today. After yesterday I think it will be a relief. The venison puddings are out of the freezer, thawing out ready to be cooked & eaten with our chef friend in mind.

The snow is disappearing. Yesterday it was freezing. You could hear the approach of people by the crunch on the frozen snow. Even a bicycle crunched along. Then last night it turned to rain. We had a vision that if it froze again as the night went on, it would be one great skating rink out there. Now, as I was filling up the seed holders for the birds, the rain began again.

Snow is one of those things I marvel out when it first arrives. It transforms the world & look so pretty when it is still pristine & untrod. However, the novelty soon wears off, as the snow turns slushy & reveals its true nature ie each flake is centred on a grit of dirt, and the inconveniences of sliding everywhere or being housebound settle in. I'm glad to see it go.

And for life to get a bit more back to normal. I know it won't truly do so until next year but at least we can eat more normally, less gargantuan portions at a more reasonable hour. Roll on 2010!

Thursday 24 December 2009

Nearly Christmas

We did our last bit of shopping before Christmas yesterday. We had hoped to buy some sprouts to have with our venison puddings on Boxing Day but the supermarket shelf was bare. We had first tried to do the shopping mid-afternoon but the car park was so full, &, looking through the windows, the queues at the tills so long, that we had decided to go to the Pub & try later. By 5ish it was quieter, but there were distinct bare patches on the shelves. Staff was hastily trying to refill the shelves after the descent of the locusts. Nonetheless, there was no fresh fish, no sprouts, no cheese crackers. But there was the milk which was the essential part of our shopping. We got some other bits as well. We'll just have to have a different veg on Saturday. We've got plenty of others - carrots, green beans, broccoli, peas, mushrooms, sweetcorn etc - to chose from.

It never ceases to amaze me how mad people go over shopping at this time of year. Easter is the other bad time. At the end of the day you can only eat so much food. Even allowing for extra visitors & so mouths to feed, surely those numbers should be balanced by the numbers who are away doing that visiting & feeding out. A sort of panic seems to set into some people just because the shops are going to be closed for a couple of days.

I suppose it was worse yesterday because of the snow the previous day. I suspect we weren't the only ones who put off going out on Tuesday to avoid the icy roads & pavements.

Last night it snowed once more. There's not as much this time. Mr Blackbird was sitting by the back door waiting for some food to be thrown out. Needless to say, my heart melted & some bread was duly found him. One thing we did yesterday was to stock up on bird food. As the snow melts a bit, I'll be out, making sure the bird feeders & table are well stocked up. They desperately need feeding in this cold.

There remains just the one thing to say:


HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL MY READERS







Wednesday 23 December 2009

A touch of magic

Today is all a-drip. That's all you hear as you step outside. The birds seem happier now they can find their food more easily. By lunchtime yesterday it had thawed sufficiently for me to get to our bird food store. The bird table & feeders were still too far for me to safely to go, so I scattered a good handful of seeds across the patio. Soon there was a myriad of small footprints from our avian visitors.

As I made my way back inside my eye was caught by a wondrous vision. There were blue skies at the time. The sun was shining on the snow-laden evergreen trees. Then suddenly a shaft of sunlight hit the snow at the right angle. The light was refracted through the melting snow. All the colours of the rainbow burst from the branch tips. Our trees had their very own fairy lights. Beautiful.

Tuesday 22 December 2009

Unexpected pleasures

In the evening we decide to open a bottle of wine. We listen to some Louis Armstrong - I'd heard on the radio that he was banned from broadcasting on the BBC by Lord Reith as his form of jazz was just "jungle music" performed by a load of monkeys so we just had to show our support for Satchmo. Afterwards the Fox got up to make some tea. He soon came running in. I had to get up & look. Through the glass in the front door, a winter wonderland had appeared. A couple of inches of snow had fallen & more was still coming down. It looked so beautiful, so pristine.

This morning I woke to find how much lighter & brighter the bedroom looked. I was reminded what Mr P has often said. He regularly visits Finland. They've had mild winters of late, just as we have tended to have. It has really got the Finns down. Being so far north, their daylight hours in winter are short, indeed it rarely gets beyond murky. They apparently have been finding it worse than usual. It has been too mild for their usual thick layer of snow which has made it even darker. Usually the snow reflects and intensifies every bit of light. And that is what is happening here this morning.

Now that I am up, I'm rather perturbed by the weird sky. At times it's dark grey, looking full of yet more snow. Other times it brightens with a sickly yellow colour, almost bilious in tone. Neither skies fill me with much optimism for the day to come. I hastily throw some slices of bread & some nuts out of the back door into the yard for the birds. They are desperately scrambling around looking for some food that isn't hidden under a blanket of white. From the footprints I see now in the snow they've obviously found my offerings. It's too dangerous for me to venture out to our bird food store or the table & feeders to put it out for them.

Talking of food reminds me of a lovely incident yesterday. We went to the Pub as so often, when one of the chefs arrived with a blue plastic box under his arms.

"Those are for you," he says proffering the box to us. "I made them specially for you last night." He went on to give us the cooking instructions & how long they would keep. Inside the box were two venison puddings. Last time we'd seen him we'd told him how much we'd enjoyed the ones we'd had at the Geriatrics' Corner Xmas dinner the other week.

We can't get over the thoughtfulness & kindness. I know he's sometimes come over to chat to us. Sometimes he's let off some steam & we've provided listening ears. We've also provided the Pub with our excess apples & pears at no charge. But we had never expected this. It's nice to be appreciated. The puddings are in the freezer now & will be got out as something special to have on Boxing Day or New Year's Day. And as we eat them we will think of the unexpected bit of generosity from our friend.

Monday 21 December 2009

A trip to France

The last couple of days I've woken up to a white world. We've had a scattering of snow. Yesterday it disappeared during the day as the snow returned to rain. It looks as though it will do the same today, though there are a few flakes around..

Yesterday, though, I was away in a far milder & wetter place - Saumur in France. I was listening to the "Food Programme" on BBC Radio 4. The programme discussed the proliferation of small distilleries in parts of Europe producing fruit-based liqueurs & eau de vies, and how such spirit-making in this country is largely obsolete. One, at least, has recently started up down in cider country, but, for many years in this country, ownership of a still has been illegal.

In France the programme concentrated on Alsace, a region we've never visited. I, however, was transported off to Saumur, where, one day, we visited the Combier distillery along with our young French friend, Bastien.There they make a whole range of liqueurs, mainly fruit-based. They explained how they make all the different drinks, & showed off their beautiful copper pot-bellied stills. At the end of the tour we were allowed a tasting of several of the drinks. We bought a bottle of their famous "Royal Combier". That never got back to England. It evaporated very quickly before our return home. It's a wonderful cold cure, though that's more of an excuse than a reason for buying a bottle. It was delicious. I personally preferred some of the more obviously fruity ones, where the intensity of the cherry etc was incredible without being as sweet as most fruit liqueurs are in this country. If you're ever in that part of France, keep an eye out for this regional speciality.

Saturday 19 December 2009

The divided world continues

I woke early this morning, feeling cold. The central heating hadn't been on long & had not had time to penetrate the night-time freeze.I put the radio on to be greeted by the news.Needless to say the first item was the results of the climate change agreement. I heard a comment from one of the African delegations, saying that they were being coerced into signing their own suicide document. It set me thinking.

I'm not entirely convinced that there is global warming on the scale predicted. Undeniably we are going through a phase of global warming, but how much of it is the natural pattern of nature & how much is man-made I'm not sure. (Certainly at the moment it seems cold enough outside!)

But the one thing I was feeling a bit more optimistic about is that for once I felt that the nations of the world were coming together to work towards a better world for all. Such world co-operation to my mind is the only solution to war, to any problem with worldwide consequences. I hoped for a world in which every state would have as much value as every other country, every person wherever he comes from, would be regarded as valuable as every other person. Seemingly not. Once again the few richer countries are to go ahead doing what they want, & for the poorer countries to pay the price & suffer the consequences. That was the gist of this African's comment.

The divided world seems set to continue.


Friday 18 December 2009

First signs of festive spirit?

We set off to the Pub. The Fox had been up to the doctor's not long before. He mentions he'd seen what looked like a pile of snow up there. There was no sign of any at home I assure him. The sky is bright blue with the odd heavy cloud. Then we notice what at first seems like rain but turns into snow. An amount that if you blinked you'd miss it, but nonetheless snow. I find myself humming, "dreaming of a white Christmas". Am I finally beginning to get into the festive spirit?

Snow flurries occasionally occur throughout the night. Never enough to cause any problems or to settle. This morning is another glorious bright blue sky. No sign of snow. I go round to the compost bin. The lake, now just a pond, is frozen solid. It certainly is cold.

I put a bit of fat out for the birds while the flour cooks a bit for dinner. Once inside I slowly add the milk for a cheesy oniony sauce. Before I put the heat back on, I think I'll open the door for a bit of fresh air. Mr Blackbird is already pouncing on the fat. When the meal is all put together, I go out & fill up the seed containers & put some warm water in the bird bath. At least for a little while there should be some liquid for the birds to drink, before it too freezes up.

Thursday 17 December 2009

Old favourites

There's something comforting about old favourites, be they films, clothes, food, whatever. What has set me off on this line of thought is today's dinner - ham & egg flan. It's one of the few Mrs Beeton recipes we really love. I discovered it early in our married life. In those days we had it often, partially because my culinary repertoire was very limited, partially because it is so easy & cheap to make & partially because we enjoyed it so much.

As I mentioned yesterday, I'm doing a bit of freezer emptying & today's item to use up is a couple of ounces of sliced ham. I instantly thought of this recipe. I have since wondered if I should try doing something new & different but I've decided to stick with this idea. Once ham & egg flan occurred to me I've felt a warm glow of eager anticipation. I mentioned the thought to the Fox & he too beamed. We haven't had one for a while so I hope we still enjoy it. The very thought of it is reassuring & comforting.

But it seems to me that that is the reaction whatever old favourite you think of. They wrap you around in a warm eiderdown of comfort & reassurance. At Christmas time we often dig out our copy of "Calamity Jane", "Beauty & the Beast" or "High Society", all enjoyable romps & I've just realised musicals. All guaranteed to put us in good mood. It's time we had something reassuringly comforting once again.

Wednesday 16 December 2009

Going fishy

I seemed to have spent all morning gutting, de-scaling & boning fish . We're having fresh (frozen) sardines for a change. I can't understand why they freeze these tasty fish with their guts still in, but they do. I'm back to going down the freezer for a bit, hence the sardines.

Yesterday I spent the morning out on my Mean Machine (electric scooter). I went along to the fish shop via Fran & Den's. Yesterday it was fresh tuna - no guts, bones, scales etc thank goodness! The journey home was magical. The sea was like a mill pond. So still. At times gently lapping onto the shore. The only sound interrupting the silence being the piping sound of the oystercatchers waiting the turn of the tide & feeding time, & the occasional, more raucous, sound of the gulls overhead. Delightful.

In the evening the Fox cooked. He coated the edges of the tuna steaks in crushed mixed peppercorns & then quickly fried them, topped them with a spicy tomatoey salsa. Delicious. He managed to cook it just right - when the fish is cooked through, with just a hint of the raw colour in the middle, still moist & delicious. Tuna is very much a fish to be particular on the timings. Too long & it becomes dry & tough; too short & it is still raw & we're not into sushi. But the Fox got it just right last night. Perfect with some sweetcorn & sauteed new potatoes.

Monday 14 December 2009

To church

The rain is back again. It has been great to finally have been able to reach the compost heap with my veg peelings without having to find some wellies. It was the first time in weeks. However, I've just peeled the spuds for today's dinner & found the lake is once more blocking the path.

In the dry, if freezing, weather, I also managed a trip to church yesterday, the first time since our return from Italy in October. It came as quite a shock to see how few people were there. St John's is a big Victorian church, easily holding a couple of hundred people. Yesterday I found myself counting the communicants as they went up to the altar - 20!

I supposed I shouldn't be too surprised. As with so many churches, most of our parishioners are retired folk. While I was waiting for someone to unlock the doors to let me in, I noticed Gloria, who lives very near, nervously making her way along the obviously slippery white frozen pavement to church. It was noticeable the average age group of those who did make it was younger than usual. We even had 3 children, including one toddler who was forever running up & down the aisles, bringing a smile to all our faces.

I hope that the weather was the cause of the small congregation. Our church is at present undergoing an interregnum. I know some members of the Parochial Church Council fear that during this time the congregation will evaporate, maybe joining to other local churches, never to return. This week there is going to be a public meeting to discuss the fate of the parish. There is some suggestion we might end up sharing a priest with a neighbouring church. We'll see. It would be a pity, but it may be a necessity.

During the passing of the peace, one elderly parishioner came over to shake my hand. She stopped for a quick chat & asked if I was ready for Christmas. I couldn't help saying no, thinking of all our recent problems, be they deaths or illnesses. She couldn't help commenting that yes Christmas was a lot of work. I agreed, relieved that this year we will be eating out so there's no turkey to cook on the day.

I sometimes think the whole celebration is one great chore. It is a pity. I feel it should be a joyous party to celebrate an important event, & to share that joy with those you love & care about. Instead it becomes one great chore from present shopping (which we've largely abandoned) to card writing to decorating the home like some fairy cake to cooking a traditional meal (rather than just something you enjoy), a time when you feel you are intruding on friends who are busy with their families, when there's no possibility of going out to a pub with others as they are closed so you are forced to stay in (especially when the weather is usually so poor that even a walk is not appealing) watching some very mediocre programmes on TV which you've seen hundreds of times before (thank goodness for videos & DVDs. At least they give some respite from this nightmare). And all this loses sight of the birth of a very special baby who should be at the centre of it all.

I'm sorry. I'm being jaundiced. At least part of my problem this year is that I'm so aware of so many loved ones who've died. I'm still anxious about Den as we've not heard yet how the op's gone. Helen, MK's widow, is into hospital this week for a hysterectomy, so I'm concerned about her. And Steve, the friend who had the liver transplant, has got to go into hospital on the 21st. His appointment last week was cancelled. Until we've got through all these worries, I'm not sure I can settle to celebrate anything much, let alone Christmas.


Friday 11 December 2009

Life's ups & downs

It's a winter wonderland outside. I've just been out in my electric scooter to the Farmers' Market. I passed neighbours scraping away at their car windscreens. Everywhere is iced over. The bright sunlight is catching on the ice crystals giving a real sparkle to everything - far better than any Christmas lights. As I go pass one house, a stream of steam lifts from the pavement. They've obviously got the same problem we had earlier this week - a blocked drain. The hot water from a washing machine was pouring out of a pipe in the wall, into the drain, to overflow & run down the steep slope of the drive down to the drain in the road. The red berries of the cotoneasters that tumble across the walls are all frosted with glitter. Quite spectacular.

By the time I got home my spirits were soaring. They soon got dampened. A few phone calls can soon do that. Den is to be operated on today. They found a lump in his throat that has to go. Then I rang PD. He sounds only marginally better than yesterday. At least I tried to reassure him he was valued by many around him.

Oh well that's life! At least, although my spirits are down, they are not unhealthily so. No more than the inevitable consequence of all the stresses of this year. For all that I questioned the value of my two years of talking to an empty chair, it does seem to have left me more able to cope with things, with life & what it throws at me. For that I am grateful.

Thursday 10 December 2009

And then there were five

The numbers keep going down. It's our Xmas dinner for Geriatrics' Corner tomorrow night. I mentioned a while back our numbers had reduced from 17-20+ to just 11 this year, due to the recent toll of deaths & increased infirmity. I've just rung the Pub to let them know the figures are now just 5.

Why this big reduction? Last night Fran rang. Den is still hoping to be home soon - & that's debatable as he might have to have an operation to remove the clot that caused the problem - but even if he is home by tomorrow he feels he'll need a quiet time, not a lively party with plenty of food & alcohol flowing. So that's two down.

Steve, the friend who had a liver transplant a while back, is once more in hospital. He had a stent put in earlier this year due to a blocked vein, the result of the transplant operation. They now want to check that. He's hoping to be out tomorrow but it depends upon what they find. They may have to replace it in which case Steve & his wife won't be able to make it. They're still hoping to come. Nothing definite has been decided but the way things are going, I suspect they won't make it.

PD meanwhile has plunged into a deep depression, such that he went to bed last night in tears. He can't face company at the moment. I'm not even convinced he wants to face life at the moment. So that's another two down.

So there remains a (hopefully merry) band of five. Though it has to be admitted that the Fox's arm has swollen up like a balloon after his swine flu jab last night. I just hope that doesn't get too much worse! Otherwise it will be down to three.

It's a bit like that Agatha Christie story where one person after another gets killed off. Or the song about the green bottles sitting on the wall. At least we've not all died yet, just dropped off the social scene for the moment.

Roll on 2010. Maybe our fortunes will change. And I'm not just talking about ours but those of all our friends.

Wednesday 9 December 2009

More bad news

There's yet more bad news. I've just had a phone call from Fran. Den is in hospital. He had a stroke yesterday. It doesn't sound too bad but we're keeping our fingers crossed & saying our prayers.

In need of some cheer

At last a quiet day. I seem to have been exhausting myself of late, what with cooking the turkey & then trying to sort out the drain (see the Fox's blog). It wasn't helped by having to do the food shopping & the inevitable Christmas cards. I supposed too it hasn't helped being a bit anxious about a friend who got rushed into hospital on Wed/Thurs night with stomach pains severe enough for her to spend the weekend on morphine. However, she is now safely home, still aching but reassured that the cause is nothing too dire, nothing fatal. So now I can relax. Fortunately today is just going to be a simple pasta dish, quick & easy to do, no preparation.

It's not going to be quite such a relaxing day for the Fox. He's got the joy of going for his swine flu jab this evening to look forward to. Reports suggest he's going to feel very uncomfortable tonight.

As we're giving PD a lift back from the Pub yesterday, he suddenly comments how dark the streets seem for the time of year. It echoes with what we'd been saying on our way to the Pub. There doesn't seem to be anything like as many houses bedecked with Christmas lights & inflated Santas & snowmen.

Most years I feel it's going over the top these days. We never put lights outside & the Christmas tree doesn't go up until just before the day.

Even allowing for the fact people seem to be cutting down on exterior decoration of their homes, very few houses even seem to have their Christmas trees up. Is this a sign of the continuing recession? Certainly the council is doing far less this year. Or are we all going greener, trying not to waste electricity on such frippery? Whatever the cause, it certainly makes the place duller, less festive, less exciting. A pity in some ways in these very long hours of midwinter nights. They need brightening up somehow.

Sunday 6 December 2009

One delivery at least

I thought I was doing well with our pre-Christmas preparations. On Friday we posted our first Christmas card, complete with letter, to Australia. We've checked we've got enough cards for all our friends this year. We've even cooked our Christmas turkey - hence my absence over the past couple of days. I've give in our orders both for the Geriatrics' Corner Xmas dinner at the Pub & our Xmas day lunch meal at another hostelry. I was feeling quite pleased with myself.

Then the cards, even one hand-delivered, started to arrive. A sense of panic descends upon me. And it's only the 6th! Christmas seems to start earlier & earlier. Well, our friends are just going to have to wait until nearer the time for our cards.

More importantly on Friday, while the turkey was in the oven, we popped out to the Pub to deliver our wedding present to Den & Fran. They seemed thrilled. They laughed at the joke. Purred over the cat. Proudly showed it off to anyone who might be interested. Once Mrs B pointed out I'd sewn it, they were even more impressed by the effort made on their behalf. They rang up yesterday to thank us yet again. I think we did well there.

Thursday 3 December 2009

A change of plan

I thought I'd just ring the funeral company to find the details of Wilf's funeral. I was astounded to discover it is this morning. That decides me. We're not going. I'm not rushing to get changed in order to get to the crem in time. I don't think the Fox will appreciate the idea either, so I'm not even letting him know the details. I will simply think of Wilf & his wife, now widow, at the appropriate time.

It certainly is quick! Wilf only died on Friday. The newspaper didn't officially come out until yesterday.

It is probably as well. I always find the wait between a death & the subsequent funeral a strange period of being in limbo, a time when life is on hold. It's difficult to get on with the job of adjusting to life without the deceased. It must be all the worse for someone like Wilf's widow. They had been married over 50 years. I'm glad she hasn't had to face a long wait.

It's once more a suitably wet & dark day. I had planned to get out the Mean Machine (my electric scooter), for the first time since we got back from Italy in early October, & venture down the prom to the fish shop for something for dinner. That will have to wait until this afternoon when I can go in the dry in the car.

Wednesday 2 December 2009

Changing tastes

It was with some anxiety that I started yesterday's meal on Monday. It was with even more trepidation that I sat down to eat it. What, might you ask, did she make? Butter beans. I was confident enough about the grilled Cumberland & black pudding sausages & chips they were to accompany. They were sure to be okay. The worry was the butter beans. I've never cooked them before.

There is a reason for this. I still shudder at the memory of butter beans from school lunches. The Fox had similar memories. Unlike most foods the school dinner ladies massacred, butter beans was not something my mother ever did at home. Custard, gravy, mashed potatoes, rice & tapioca puds I knew didn't have to come with lumps. They didn't at home. Equally I knew cabbage didn't have to come with purple fluff mixed in, or hard boiled eggs with a nasty tasting grey-green edge to the yolks, or even sprouts soggy. Liver didn't have to taste of leather with rubbery tubes sticking out. No. my Mum redeemed all these foods in my eyes.

But butter beans have remained an anathema. I'm not sure what put me off most, the tough papery skins or the gritty flavourless inside. But I decided the time had come to put this childhood aversion to one side & have another go. They may just be better than I feared. And just maybe, cooked in the right way they would be edible, even delicious. Little B, our recently deceased friend, used to regularly buy them, tinned, as a bit of a treat for him & Mrs B when she went to dine with him. And I shuddered every time he told us. Then this summer, PD came back from Crete enthusing about a dish of butter beans in a tomato sauce he'd had on his holiday. I'd found a Greek recipe for just such I thing so I thought I'd try it yesterday.

We were somewhat astounded by just how much water the dried beans took up. Overnight, while they soaked, we had to fill them up with yet more water several times. I nervously tasted them when I'd cooked them to check they were soft. I still wasn't very keen. Then I made the tomato & onion sauce & cooked them further. I'm surprised to say we both really rather enjoyed them. The handful of fresh mint in the mix really lifted them. They're still not a veg we would want to often but once in a while they would make a pleasant change.

This is definitely not a meal I would have had a few years ago. Even sausages I wouldn't eat. I always loved the flavour, just couldn't keep them down. Even now I would never eat them out unless I knew the source. I still have difficulty with some varieties, even from our regular source. As for butter beans - forget it.

More bad news

Last night, our day took another nose dive. I had a glance through our local paper to see that yet another friend had died, another ex-member of Geriatrics' Corner. It is not entirely surprising. Wilf was 82 when he died. He hadn't looked well for some time. Very shaky on his legs. There was some suspicion he was starting with dementia when he & his wife ceased coming along to the Pub. Whether or not this was the case he didn't look well. Whenever I went along the prom in my electric scooter I would look up towards their flat & think of them both.

We don't know whether to go to the funeral. The Fox's immediate reaction is that he just can't face yet another funeral. It would be the 6th of the year. We're beginning to think we live at the crem. It's just too many in a year.

I, on the other hand, feel we should go, to give a little support to his widow. We'll see how we're feeling nearer the time. Meanwhile we think we'll send a card. At least then, if we don't go, his widow will know that we are thinking of her & had appreciated Wilf.