Baking Day

I haven't got the car today, so I've decided it's going to be a baking day.
Mary and I collected eggs from Eirlys's farm from The Marian and soon I shall be making chicken and leek pie, a meat and potato pie, banana loaves and custard tarts.
Eirlys kept me talking as did the old miner in the corner house by the garage.
He always asks me the same question
"How's your friend, keeping well?" 
" My husband is fine" I always reply

In one way baking is diversionary  tactics from the sweat fest that is moving old Trevor's collection of wood onto the field bonfire ( a job I'll have to do tomorrow), but in another way its therapy.
Baking is a sweet mindful activity.
It clears the mind of bad thoughts.

Trendy Carol (in designer jeans, bright training shoes and bright hipster jacket) was out when we returned with our eggs. I see she  has a new outdoor sofa literally smothered in cushions...I forgot to tell her it's longer than the width of our cottage.

I'll post pie photos later
Hey ho

I ran out of plain flour so had to use gluten free flour for the meat and potato pie

( which looks shite) 

I've yet to make the custard as neighbour Trevor has just caught me

Pre Going Gently

I think I have always enjoyed writing, even though I am not all that good at it.
I was reminded of the fact by a chance meeting on facebook the other day.
As a late teen, I was part of the citizen Band radio craze that swept the country. My austin 1300 had a whip aerial, furry seats and a superstar 120 which could pick up conversations as far as Holywell
In a matter of days I suddenly had a large group of friends, picked up from the 1980 CB geeks of North Wales.
Black Sheep, Sweetie Pie, Green Giant, Bogey Man, Silver Fox, Psycho and Cherry Blossom, everyone had their own name or " handle" and I had, what I thought was a cracker, for I called myself " Pockets" .
I loved the camaraderie of it all. Most nights we would all meet up. We went ice skating, enjoyed pub quizes, enjoyed " eyeballs" ( meet ups with fellow radio fans) and hung out at Black Sheep and Sweetie Pie' s house , using it as a hostel, youth club.
I lost contact with most of the CBers in the summer of 1983 when I left to go nursing

Where is this amble down memory lane taking us, I hear you yell.... Well I shall tell you.
Sweetie Pie and Blacksheep had a baby called Kellie and as a gift I wrote her a book about the friends that met up on those rather naive days of the early 1980s.
It was a lumpy precursor to Going Gently
A few days ago, on facebook, Kellie sent me a message completely out of the blue..... It was this photo

The last page of the book I had written for her, some 32 years previously . She had kept it all of that time........
I was very flattered.

Arse over tit!

Trelawnyd seems a bit dead this morning

I'm running late today....everything is "arse over tit"
Firstly the Prof still wasn't 100% overnight , so kept us both awake.
Secondly I have just made gravy for a chicken and mushroom pie using fish stock
And thirdly I am working this evening, so will miss the first episode of The Walking Dead!
How can the world be so cruel? 

Anyhow , the chicken pie has been finally made. The Prof will be returning home from work early and the satellite box thing will record the zombie apocalypse for me to watch tomorrow night, so barring a powercut things will be fine.........I have read the synopsis of the second half premier anyway, so I know who gets chomped/sliced/ shot ( delete as appropriate) .......my nerves couldn't take the suspenders!

Right like all good country house blogs I shall leave you with a photo of the aforementioned chicken and mushroom pie.....it's magnificent!

Have a good monday all..........

Shepherd's Pie

There is a race night at the village Hall and a rememberence service in the village tomorrow
I have and will miss both as I'm working all weekend.
Apparantly the race night was a sell out!
It's 9.15 pm and I've just found a carrier bag tied to the front door knob when I brought the dogs back from Trendy Carol's
It's pissed down all day
In the bag was a small casserole  dish covered with foil and in that is a watery half waterlogged portion of shepherds pie
I'm eating it cold next to a hastily lit log burner as the dogs watch grumpily
On a postit note selotaped to the top of the pie was written just two words and a scribbled kiss
Mrs Trellis 
It said
X

Pie Making and Paul Temple

What it should look like

It's the little things that perk you up me thinks.
Today was a case in point.
I've not felt like blogging for a few days ( hence the lazy posts) there has been nothing major to report, just little to write about.
Life gets like that sometimes.
This morning I am just about to make an Italian potato crust pie for lunch whilst listening to reruns of Paul Temple and the Gregory Affair on iplayer.  The Prof has been writing in his study since before dawn.
I have learnt an age ago that Academics often work better creatively in the early mornings.
I cannot speak before 6 am.
At 11 am as I was walking the dogs I spied a young boy of about ten on the village green. He was collecting dead wood from the shrubbery and was placing it into a waste bin. I realised that he thought that the volunteers that I had called for weeding duties was this week instead of next which was a shame
I had not seen him before but I thanked him for coming and promised him extra cake if he turned up next Sunday.
In this busy world , where no one has the time for volunteering , it was nice to see one little boy making an effort.

My " more rustic" pie

I must Be Orally Fixated

Note to self:

Don't feed the dogs at the same time as making a meat pie!

It's been a busy old morning and I have been rushing around like a blue arsed fly.

Shopworn but still going Theresa the turkey

Yesterday, when I was out at the beach with the dogs, one of the ewes got stuck in the turkey enclosure fencing. Luckily next door neighbour JF saved her, but the side effect of all this little drama was that Bingley, the turkey stag, escaped and attacked the poor defenceless one eyed Theresa again.

She survived the assault and survived the night but this morning looked a sorry state indeed.

I have spend somewhat of a difficult hour cleaning her up at the kitchen sink, before spending an equally difficult time cleaning great globs of turkey shit up from the worktop and kitchen floor... !

Such is life on a miniature farm.

Anyhow back to the meat pie.

After I had sterilised the work tops, I got stuck in with making the aforementioned meat pie,

It was a bit of a rush job, when there is only seven hours of daylight left to you!

Beef, gravy, onions, mushrooms.... the filling  looked pretty rustic and bloody mouthwatering I can tell you, but I was good, I didnt take a huge mouthful of meat covered spoon until after I fed the dogs their dinners.

Yes......... 

you may be there a little before me

I picked up the wrong spoon.

and a substantial gobful of butcher's natural nutrition lamb, rice and pea dog food was not quite what I was expecting.

Could have been worse 
Now did I actually bleach those worktops, or did I just think about it?

Pies & Scones

Today's offering a meat and potato pie

I am a plain to average cook

But I can knock out a good pie when the need arises

This surprises me as I have hot little fat hands

The hands of a serial killer , I have been told.

My grandmother always told me that you needed cold hands for good pastry

Today I was going to ask auntie Glad what the real secret of " good pastry" when I dropped off

Some duck eggs on my rounds but as it turned out, I didn't.

She had received some bad news from the doctor about her eye sight

and as usual, all she was thinking about , was other people

" Tell Chris  I won't be able to make scones for him anymore" 

She said with a sad faraway look

Fish Pie

Yesterday my bubble friend Ruth was over.

We ate fish pie ( completed with quarters of hard boiled eggs), drank wine  and watched Amelie 

It was a nice evening. 

Amelie is a movie that only gets better when rewatching . 

It’s film in which it’s editing takes centre stage and where a million visual ideas joint together seamlessly 

I adore it.

Today I’ve bought eggs from Rachel at the village riding stables and have dodged snow showers in favour of cold sunny breaks, then I’ve picked up antibiotics for Mary ( at last my demand for a swab on her ear has yielded a bacterial and not fungal infection as I suspected ) and bought flowers for Trendy Carol who never takes any payment for looking after the girls when I’m at work. 

It’s a no news, bland blogging day today.

I will leave you with this excruciatingly funny clip of  Nick Mohammed
He sings the plot of a film to its score


Enjoy x

Thursday

I've worked 5 twelve and a half hour day shifts in the last 7 days
And I'm tired tonight.

I've had to sweep the flue of the wood burner as it was smoking when I lit the fire
The cottage is still full of smoke and I'm cold

I only had a four day old homemade shepherd's pie left in the fridge that and a murky pork chop
I ate the pie cold with tomato sauce still in my uniform
Winnie ate the chop
( whole)

Dotty is now licking my bare feet with a fat tongue
It's Bliss....

The cottage looks like the wreck of the Hesperus

I can't think of a blog to write today
Bed soon me thinks

I'm tired and rather angry

Poor Training & Autumn up the Gop

Busy (nice busy) day! It's 5pm and just sat down for the first time since I got up, with coffee and blog! Got the weekly shop done at 8am as Salisbury's at Rhyl is quieter and more user friendly (don't get me started on the width of the aisles!) Well blow me, but just as I finished filling my trolley the bloody fire alarm goes off! Out of no where several puffing red faced middle aged check out staff/middle managers galloped up and down first calling the few shoppers to evacuate, then to remain where they were then to evacuate again! Despite the potential seriousness of the situation, I had to stifle a giggle as one particularly agitated clerk manhandled a frail elderly couple this way and that! Dragging them away from their trolley, one way and then another! I carried on shopping! until then now hyperventilating staff member dragged the couple back into the store

Meg looks suitably windswept up the Gop when I
got home and it was lovely to see the rich yellows of the trees (much deeper and more pronounced due to the wet warm summer). We walk past Sue's ( an old school friend) four horses every day and the dogs love going nose to nose with them. William particularly seems to love this contact and practically shoves his nose up the eldest horse's nostrils whist breathing deeply. it is the oddest thing to watch, as both William and the pony seem rather quiet and interested in each other!

Bought a ton of sawdust to cover the hen house floor this afternoon in Abergele and stocked up with feed for while we are away in New York. Got weighed at weightwaters ( no weight gain!!!) then home again to bake a desperate Dan meat pie and an apple pie for Richard who is arriving later.

As I was cooking a neighbour and his wife introduced themselves from down the lane, they bought some eggs and the husband seemed surprised and interested that I was actually baking! They were very friendly though!

The sawdust has caused much consternation in the large coop this dusk! as all 12 roosting birds refused to enter with this new white stuff all over the floor! I was getting a little exasperated with them all as they resembled the Sainsbury staff this morning ! ( running ineffectively around in circles). Finally I picked Mildred Pierce up and threw her in, and the others (all heaving big sighs of relief) galloped after her!

More Tea vicar?

The vicar  and his entourage waiting patiently for their rhubarb tarts

Every year after Harvest Festival, the Church holds a harvest lunch in the village hall to raise funds. 

They usually put on a hot pot and fruit pie to follow, so it's well,worth the small talk., especially as Church stalwart Christine Davies usually makes the pies, and she's a cracking pie maker. ( I'll get her to enter the cookery classes in the flower show if it kills me)

It's a beautiful sunny day today, and suddenly the village seems full of activity. There is a funeral at the Chapel with a burial in the graveyard next to the Ukrainian village and the Children from the school will be attending Church this afternoon for their harvest festival service. 

I also met the incredibly cheerful foreman overseeing the renovation of the houses on London Road, who strangely knew of my blog. He asked if I could dig out any historic photos of the houses for him, which I have done, I think he's been somewhat overwhelmed by people congratulating him for taking the job on.

The cooks in the village hall, Mrs Trellis is first right 

Thoughts over A Cottage Pie

I tend to prepare supper over morning coffee. It's a habit I have gotten into. There is a practical reason for this as the more the day progresses, the dirtier I usually become. Later this morning I will be digging over " Bosoms" , chitting potatoes need to be planted out.
Recently, we have been asked by an elderly friend to be a " first port of call" if the " enevitable" would happen.
We have been asked to hold house keys, know who to contact in case of an emergency and understand other personal and practical jobs " that need to be done" .in the case of......etc etc
It's a responsibility to be sure,
But, Chris and I were rather touched to be asked.
It's hard when these things need sorting when there is no family " around and about" so to speak.

Chris and I have made a will. We made sure we completed one when we bought the cottage, but as there is two of us, those mini practical things of where the key to the shed is kept or where the dogs' medical cards can be located have never really been discussed.

God forbid, if I was to be hit by a truck tomorrow, poor Chris would flounder with all of the minutiae of normal home life bollocks. He has no idea where  the George Clooney vet has his surgery. He doesn't know where the home insurance papers are and he would be flummoxed with what recycle bin has to be placed out and when  or who gets their eggs delivered on a Monday and who prefers them popped off on a Sunday afternoon.

Funny where your mind wanders to over a half constructed cottage pie

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

Spoilers
If you want to go and see a good old fashioned, romantic weepie that makes you feel all emotional warm and fuzzy go and see The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.
It's a rather delightful piece of whimsy.

The perky Lily James

Impossibly beautiful authoress Juliet Ashton ( a perky Lily James) is at the height of her success in post war London when she receives a letter from Dawsey Adams (Michiel Huisman) an impoverished but well read pig farmer from the Island of Guernsey. Adams is part of a literary group formed on the occupied island by a group of lonely and isolated neighbours and his account of this strange band of misfits at first intrigues then enchants Juliet who subsequently visits the island to get drawn into a rather painful wartime mystery.

So you can see , the film has everything. Wartime hardships, shoulder pads, a delightfully eclectic set of characters, beautiful scenery, Nazi cruelty and Mr Huisman who makes the wearing of a dirty and hole filled fisherman's jumper an art form. He is basically the most beautiful man I have seen on screen in a long time.

The ensemble cast has been picked perfectly from Sunday night tv.
Jessica Brown Finlay is excellent as the mysterious and brave Elizabeth McKenna, Katherine Parkinson plays a ever hopeful gin making spinster rather movingly and heavyweights Tom Courtenay and Penelope Wilton provide warmth and gravitas in spades as the de facto grandparents of the group
Their society meetings have a real drama and pathos on screen.

Having said this , apart from the dreamy and soft spoken Huisman, I have to say that Lily James carries the film admirably. She possess a doe eyed sweetness which is perfect for the film's gentle innocence that finally, after a somewhat contrived will they, won't they? finale ends with a kiss that would make even the most hardened of watchers swoon.

It's a lovely film.

Summerland

Arterton and Gugu Mbatha Raw

The Brits are brilliant at making wartime whimsy movies
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Pie Society was a real winner recently and following close on its heels and with a similar heroine and cast in tow is the gentle Summerland 

Shrieking wartime shabby chic Gemma Arterton plays Alice, a bad tempered single writer of books who explore and discounts folklore and myths. Alice lives in the most beautiful cottage overlooking the Kent white cliffs, is mean to children who refer to her as a witch and lives to write. Unfortunately a young boy Frank, (Lucas Bond) is billeted with her from his London home and their initially prickly relationship rekindles past memories of a failed lesbian affair Alice had in the 1920s.

Crusty writer, lonely boy, angry villagers.....the whole movie isn't original by any means, and in actual fact the movie looks as though it is shot from one field over looking the most impressive of the Dover Cliffs but in Arterton's sensitive hands this is a charming tale of lost love and longing

I loved the powerful little scene when over dinner one night Frank innocently guesses that Alice's past love was a woman.
"Would it bother you if I say you were right?"  Alice asks tentatively 
And when the little boy replies honesty No
Her pure emotional release literally breaks your heart in its intensity.

Unlike The Guernsey Potato Pie etc Summerland has a small supporting cast which do very little
Tom Courtney turns up as the blustering local schoolmaster and Sian Philips ( I thought she had died) plays a local grandmother who played the moral high ground card.

If  you want a bit of light whimsy which will make you cry , go and see Summerland 
Arterton and Kent , has never looked better 

Pie Drama

The whole village, indeed the whole valley lost it's power last night.
The Prof  wasn't best pleased as I had just put in a mince pie in the oven which he was looking forward to greatly.
He stropped around the cottage like Bette Davis as I dug out candles and a torch so I went to check on Old Trevor, Pat the animal helper and two other elderly neighbours.
I need not have worried, for everyone over fifty lived through the power cuts of The Three Day Week, so all would have had a  candle at the ready when all the lights went out

For those that dont know The Three Day Week was a government initiative to conserve electricity due to the 1973 oil crisis and British Coal Strike.  The general population had to deal with prolonged and regular  power cuts over that winter and even tv stations were forced to end their broadcasting early in an attempt to conserve power! 

I was eleven during the January Winter of 1974 so I vaguely remember those quiet drab evenings sat with a duvet in the living room surrounded by candles. I also sort of remember the pungent smell of the primus stove as my mother made tea and the worry that the tropical fish, their tank all wrapped up in an old sleeping bag would make it through the night.
No one seemed to complain much as I remember, they just got one with it.
Nowadays everyone would be apoplectic with rage and would be flinging themselves around in hysterical abandon searching for someone to rant at.
Then my mother just bought an extra flask and made sure she was up to date with her library books!

It was nice taking the dogs around a deserted and dark village. Almost every house had small pools of candle light illuminating their windows and the place looked as it would have done in the 1930s before mains electricity visited  the population.
As we walked around I spied another torch flicking to and fro and bumped into Cameron the teenage boffin, who was checking if anyone needed assistance. He too was enjoying the drama and the peace  of a dark village.

Giving As Good As You Get

Bosoms' new fruit trees!

I took the dogs out for a walk yesterday and when I returned there was a gift waiting for me by the back door.
Two fruit trees and a fruit bush had been left all neatly packaged up alongside a bottle of mite powder and a container of some apple cider vinegar ...a present from two friends from Prestatyn .
Today a large pile of spare egg boxes had been delivered alongside several loaves of stale bread for the animals from someone unknown and back on Sunday afternoon another bag of warm home made scones had been dropped off by a windswept Auntie Glad.
In my mind acts of kindness always need to be repaid.
Being on a limited budget, necessitates some lateral thinking when it comes to gift giving.....having a boost of thirty or so refugee hens has increased my egg production drastically, and so a thank you of a dozen eggs can oil the cogs of good relationships in and outside the village.

Yesterday I went all Mary Berry and made a pumpkin pie, the remainder of which I will share out between the fruit tree givers and Auntie Glad. I have boxed up some eggs too.and will drop everything off today......mind you the lurid looking pie may not be that gratefully received ...it does look like shit on a plate.....

An Invite

The day couldn't get any worse
But it did.......as shit days often do when you don't want them to.
I eventually had a very hot bath and breathed Vicks steam through a flannel over my face, which was nice.
I drank another lemsip with real lemon.
The phone went late afternoon, just after I had lit the Christmas Tree
It was Mrs Trellis, in her usual precise sing song voice
" I just wanted to invite you to share a mince pie and a glass of something one afternoon next week" she said carefully, enunciating every word with care
" I have a rather good sherry and the new range in the kitchen is ever so cosy" 
I started to think of some excuse or other when she added
"It would be lovely for me if you could come " and suddenly all of the day's shite was lifted away by the simple and sincere invitation  of a mince pie and a schooner of sherry.

Egg On My Face

It's the biggest gig of the year in Church today, so Chris was up early setting up for the stand in vicar, who apparently is rather old and frail.
I'm looking forward to hear if there are disasters afoot

Btw You can tell it's Easter as some kind soul had given the sheep some stale hot cross buns to eat, I wondered who it was for there was also an uneaten battenburg cake on the field...Apparently Sylvia and Irene don't like marzipan.

As a treat Chris made me my favourite breakfast IN BED - a runny fried egg in a toasted bagel sandwich, which I demolished still lying  in the supine position! It was blissful

I want a lazy, pottering type day today....

Anyhow I was just putting the " pillow of porn" and the " slippers of sex" in the washing machine on a cool wash ( see previous post for an explanation) when there was a sharp knock on the window.
It was a cheerful walker out with an equally cheerful terrier who wanted eggs.
" I haven't got one" I told him honestly
" I know you've eaten them all!" He quipped pointing to my chin

I'm such a let down

I have always had this ability to cover myself and/ or my person with uneaten food. It is a skill ai have honed ever since I was old enough to wave a plastic spoon around.
My "piece de resistance" messy eating story happened when I was in the middle of a savoury pie eating frenzy on the busy train from Oxford to York.  I coughed then sneezed right in the middle of my second pie and unfortunately splattered two elderly bachelors who were sitting opposite with pork and cranberry filling.
In my experience you can only achieve a more destructive effect when sneezing whilst eating cornflakes......and I've done that too.....
Many times........
Hey ho

The Easter Lilllies in the East Window

"You know how to whistle, don't you, Steve? You just put your lips together and ... blow."

  This morning as I was returning from bosoms with onions and potatoes in order to make a cottage pie, I bumped into the neighbour who yesterday morning had told me that Robbie Williams had just died . She tittered away that " she was a bit of a "one"" and in a way of getting some news right, ended our encounter with the sad news that Lauren Bacall had sadly passed away.

" she did that thing with the cigarettes" my neighbour twittered....and I told her just how Bacall perfected her famous " look" by putting her chin on her chest whilst raising her eyes upward. This wasn't a drama Queen-esque action of a diva.......but an effort by Bacall to stop herself shaking on film.....
I always liked Lauren Bacall.
She was sardonic, measured, assertive and sassy. From her famous whistle blowing scene in To Have And Have Not , she only went forward to  make a handful of quality films , but for seventy years, she remained a true Hollywood icon, a successful Broadway actress and a staunch liberal ......
"You are welcoming to everyone when you're a liberal." She had been quoted "You do not have a small mind."
Yes, I liked her image, and I suspect I would have liked her in person.
Hey ho..... Hollywood leading ladies........we only have Olivia deHavilland left

It's a bit of a film orientated blog today......later I am going to see the much praised Tom Hardy film "Locke" which finally has a showing here in Wales. I have been waiting an age for it, so will review it later....
Right.....off to finish my cottage pie

Sorrel and Country

I am a good host when visitors come to Bwthyn-y-Llan for I am more than capable of "making an effort" when I am in the mood. However.. I do take after my robust Liverpudlian Grandmother, when it comes to hospitality for like her, I am a bit of a "feeder" when it comes to visitors.
Anyone that arrives on the doorstep is always offered a cup of tea, whether they be the delivery man or the dog groomer lady....if I have notice then a homemade cake or pie ( pies are easier) is usually in the offering, and failing that, there is always an emergency visit to the spar, that can be initiated even though their selection of cakes is rather...well.........working class to say the least.
After filling Sorrel up with eggs, bacon and fried bread this morning, I have packed her and Chris off for a day's shopping in Chester (I cannot personally think of anything worse than trolling around designer shops even if they are hidden away inside the scenic "rows" of historic Chester)
With half the day free, I can prepare dinner for later, do a bit of baking and flex more of my hospitality muscles.
To be honest it is not hard work looking after my mother in law. She is undemanding, grateful and will eat all that is put in front of her.

However ( and I have blogged about this before as Dot elluded to in my previous post-see Sorell and the mouse) my mother in law just cannot "do" the countryside.

One brief trip on the field will send her into what can only be described as a "muted hysterical state of 65 year old Kentish womanhood"  and the mere "sideways look" from a turkey is enough to bring on a sudden bout of hyperventilation!! so..... you can only guess what she transforms into when surrounded by 49 birds, two pigs and a cat who enjoys disemboweling small fury animals.......

it's not a pretty sight.

Sorrel is still recovering from the unexpected view  of a rather flattened shrew, which was thoughtfully deposited outside her bedroom door yesterday evening.......thank god the baby rabbit incident had not occurred when she was around...for I couldn't quite face visiting her daily in the rubber room of the local psychiatric unit

Yes Chester was a safe bet today.....a couple of hours in Marks and Spencer , and she will be effectively cleansed of rodents, chickens and psychotic turkeys

hey ho

This morning's fruit pie