Tarts Trelawnyd Style

All ready for the baking...( I've only just noticed my pants on the radiator )

This afternoon I am picking the affable despots' girls up from school.
We have a couple of hours to fill before dad picks them up, so I have been mulling over what we can do to fill in the time.
What do you do with girls of 5 and 8?
When I was a child, fun was had in the kitchen.
We didn't cook or play with pastry or batter. Ingredients were there to be cooked properly.
But we ( remember I had -and still do- a twin sister) were always entertained by a grandmother who baked and cooked with all of the ease of a professional chef.
Victoria sponges, pies, plain old fashioned cooking, all were completed alongside stories and chatter, and , even though we didnt that often , get our hands dirty, by a process of osmosis , home cooking was always joyful and entertaining.
This afternoon , the girls and I shall be baking jam tarts. They will make the pastry, they will dollop in the jam.......my job? is to referee the mess and make sure the girls are kept busy
Last time, I left them to their own devices and they back combed William's fur so much that he looked like Tina Turner in 1980

( i'll post some baking photos later) hey ho

William wasn't Happy

Postscript

Finally Eve, Liv and William watched tv

Oiling The Cogs

Well after yesterday's marathon, I think we will go back to some normality.
It's true to,say that I have been suffering from a severe bout of post Australia blues.
The weather, the good humour, the change of scene , old friends, snogging on the beach, the colourful wildlife and the Opera house bar....everything at home seemed rather dull when we returned .
Yesterday the sweet nature of fate, of kismet of whatever conspired to lift the mood and I am very grateful for it......
Here how things went.

• Being in Australia, I missed the local hedge trimmers at their work. Usually I catch one and bunging him a twenty quid note, the hedge on the field would be trimmed and neat and tidy. This year I was late and I have been worried that I have missed the boat so to speak. On the way back home yesterday I spied Ralph the gentleman farmer. He waved a cheerful hand and shouted from his car that another farmer Basil, had informed him that my field needed a haircut  and it was all in hand. 

• Out dog walking down Bron Haul, we were stopped by the familiar bellow of " HELLO FLOWER!" Gay Gordon came limping out of Big Mary's bungalow carrying what looked like a large brick wrapped up in tin foil. " Here you go !" He called out giving me the package..." IT's A CHRISTMAS CAKE ! I'VE JUST MADE 6!" It was so large, I could hardly carry it home

• A little later, I was busy bleaching the toilet when I heard  a tap-tap-tap on the kitchen window. It was Mike who lives down the lane. He was having a sort out and had brought us a collection of gardening books he thought we may like and use. 

• Next door neighbour "Sailor John " made sure that a hose connector was replaced on his outside tap. Now I am able to connect the field hose to his water in order to fill the lurid purple paddling pool for the geese. I use their water daily without any charge !

Filling the field water butts

• Oh and I need to thank village Elder, Islwyn  for locking up the birds on Saturday night....it freed the Prof and I so we could pop over to Osborn House in Llandudno for a a nice, post Australia meal and bottle of wine...

Little kindnesses like these oil the cogs of banality .....they lift the mood and make ordinary life just a little bit better.

As does the quiet friendship of an old bulldog bitch when watching crap tv 

Mad As A Box Of Frogs

When I was a child making up an excuse for doing something wrong , I would  whinge
" I thought it would be ok"
My mother would always counter this with pursed lips and the disbelieving line
" You know what thought did? ....followed a muck cart and thought it was a wedding"
Some people are full of such sayings.
Auntie Glad is famous for the line " My Health is my wealth"
My Liverpudlian grandparents often called out the words " San Fairy Ann" when something they heard was of no consequence to them ( San Fairy Ann was a corruption of the french phrase " a ne fait rien " it doesn't matter)
And I often mutter a much more salty " ...and my dick's a kipper" when I hear something that I don't believe.
I am intrigued by the origin of sayings like these.....the more obscure ones can be fiendishly confusing ........
So let's hear your favourite sayings , historic or otherwise...........
And don't forget to explain them..........

Nothing

Weekends are generally noisy affairs here in Trelawnyd.
The Prof is quite a loud character.
There is much chatter, clapping of hands and the sound of flat feet on bare floorboards.when he is about
The tv or radio are often on
They sounds too loud for daytime..I always think
Everywhere seems noisy nowadays. Music in shops and bars. Traffic.
Crying babies on planes.
People talking on their smart phones with a shout rather than a whisper
And this is written by a man who is slightly deaf!

The Prof has gone to church after I made a passable roast beef dinner.
and although there is plenty to do,
I have decided to sit in the armchair in the silence of the cottage on this sunny afternoon ......and there is  nothing to hear except the gentle snore of the dogs in the living room and the drone of a lost bumblebee

Bliss

Apples In Church

 It's harvest festival tomorrow and I am down for church cleaning this week, so I made sure that the pews were buffed and that Gaynor the mad organist's stool was polished and gleaming.
The church had been decorated simply with oranges and apples, which was rather sweet....I do so hate it when the odd tin of out of date rice pudding makes its way onto the font
I've said it before but I do rather like cleaning the church. It's silent and calm...and very Zen

 

Anyhow having banged on about friggin Peace and quiet

I returned to the church shortly after with our food contribution for the homeless shelter

The Church ladies were all there decorating further

And one pointedly and rather patronisingly  told me off for not looping the cord on the hoover properly

So much for Zen eh?

On a lighter note

Strictly is back

Anita is a lucky bitch

Children Remember Everything

Children remember everything.

The boy was around eleven . His father never took him out on a one to one basis.
He was just too busy.
It was just not done.
The boy was happy enough for he was part of a big family.

One weekend the boy's mother told the boy that his father would take him out on a nature walk together.
The boy loved wildlife and was quietly excited.
So after lunch they drove into the country and parked in front of a large private house set before it's own small wood.
They got out of the car and the father told the boy to enjoy his walk around the wood, he wouldn't be long as he needed to talk about some business in the house.
The boy took himself back to the car after a short lonely walk.
He sat there in silence for a good half hour before his father returned and they drove home.

Children remember everything that hurt.

Mary Berry Rallies

Carole from Georgia emailed me today and wanted to know how the poorly, bald bummed hen was doing...the one I had wrapped up on the draining board a week back.
Well here she is .....
Looking a little untidy but bright as a button!
And no more wounds!.....she even laid an egg a few days ago