I’m being pampered with a guest post from Jacky (and so are you) Hi, I am a home edding mum who loves all things of a foraging/self sufficiency nature. Actually, my love borders on obsessional! Recently, my foraging adventures have combined 3 of my favourite things: roses, foraging and preserve making! I took the sprogs […]Read More Rosy Jam
This is so simple and cheap, each year I make three batches and pop it into up to eighteen plus, previously drained (gulp, gulp, gulp) clean (I use sterilising tablets on them because it’s so easy) wine bottles. Store it upright, to prevent pressurised leaking, and feel free to start glugging it back chilled, anytime after […]Read More Let The Fermentation Begin! – Elderflower Champagne, A Tutorial.
Beech leaves are edible, citrusy. Mature leaves are toughened tongue slicers but the downy baby leaves are as weightless and silky as an acid green parachute.Read More Feuille for Free
Several water authorities announced drought conditions and imposed hosepipe bans. Like a spell, this has presaged in daily downpours of monsoon intensity. Time for “Anna Rock Punch”. Ukrainian Anna wore her immaculately coiffered grey waves pinned up. She embroidered her own exquisite folk blouses, smiled all the time and made interesting things to eat. She […]Read More Something to drink whilst you’re ringing out your bobble hat.
Everyday the snow looked different. First, the sugary glitter of crushed diamonds, then shards of glass. Lastly, the papery surface of flakey skin. Like a film exposed for hours, it’s ribboned lines revealed what happened in my absence. Lone walkers and dog walkers. The crazy quilting of little birds, a double machine stitch in the […]Read More Never Mind Smilla’s Feelings
Large birds of prey are a common sight, it’s most often buzzards. The hedges are their lavishly stocked larders. From at least 100 yards away you can hear the squeaks and whistles of the bird metropolis. As I approach, a patch falls silent, I picture the little side turned faces, bright eyes watching me, then, as […]Read More Sparrow Snacks
Everywhere we go, huge walls of logs are trustingly stacked up to dry, not simply for this winter, but for two more to come. Everywhere. G and I never buy wood in England but through resourcefulness and opportunism get fuel for free. I say “we” get wood but G finds the tree, chops it […]Read More Wood, Wood Everywhere But Not A Stick To Burn.
Before we left, various chums were saying goodbye and a young woman came up to wish me a nice time and say they’d miss us. She’s in her early teens, cheerful, slim, very fashionable. We are part of the same community, but several weeks may pass between hello’s. I felt proud that she’d noticed I […]Read More More Than You Think (Three Stories)
One summer years back we stayed with friends in a beach hut on a spit of land, the northest of Norfolk. Sand and seals one side of us, an ebbing and flowing marshy maze the other. We, including six children, were without electricity and running water. And an inside loo. I am sofabound by inclination […]Read More In Which I Reveal Too Much, Causing You To Review Your Subscription
The clumps in the trees, that in England would be rook’s nests or ivy, are some powerful all-conquering strain of mistletoe. (Why can’t there be a festivus for the rest of us?) They have dainty red squirrels. All over the place are unappealing, mud caked, walnut shells. They conceal nuts that are wrinkled, juicy and […]Read More France is Not England. But Sometimes It’s Tokyo.