What a difference a day makes

My cycle into work today was in complete contrast to my foggy journey home yesterday.  An eerie stillness interrupted only by a shrieking siren accompanied my late afternoon ride along the river, the lack of bird song emphasising the oppressiveness of the chilly, grey blanket that enveloped me.  This morning was a different story altogether, with an irritable duck loudly berating the rest of his paddle (clearly, not a morning Mallard) and several blackbirds singing cheerfully in the trees overhead.  And with very few cars crossing Eden Bridge, the traffic noise was merely a comforting murmur as I pedalled along!

Christmas Traditions

Although I’m not overly sentimental, maintaining traditions seems to matter at Christmas. We resolutely decorate our tree on Christmas Eve with an eclectic mix of baubles and take it down on 6 January, long after most people have tidied their decorations away. Our Christmas cake reposes on my mum’s cut glass stand (which only ever saw the light of day in my childhood home at Christmas) and just like Mum, I make mince pies on Christmas Eve.  However I suspect that particular tradition was born originally out of her dis-organisation so clearly the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!!

                                              

On the 5th day of Christmas....

On this 5th day of Christmas, I was reflecting that although the public hype begins  earlier each year, Christmas now seems to be over once the last cracker has been pulled on Christmas Day itself. Even my limited forays into social media have informed me that in the homes of several friends, Christmas trees and decorations have been taken down already and that the stressful run up to the festivities may not have delivered The Perfect Day. Perhaps, surprisingly, our determination to avoid the hysteria and have a quiet and peaceful Christmas means we can actually enjoy it for longer

Calamitous events come in threes!

Last week, cycling by the river, I skidded and fell off my bike, landing inevitably on my right shoulder, which has only just repaired itself after I tore my rotator cuff in June.  Then I developed tonsils the size of melons and a sore throat so rough that I could have sand-papered a forest of trees. That caused us to miss a festive Ceilidh.  Finally, one of the unpredictable nerve pains that I developed after my shingles outbreak, returned to plague me in the dark hours of the other night.  So hopefully, that’s it.  No more incidents for a while!

Nursery Pudding!

On Tuesday evening, a friend came for dinner.  I was just preparing a baked cheesecake dessert when Andy, who was catching up on a cookery show, spotted that one of the featured dishes was a steamed, treacle pudding.  He immediately suggested that I cease production of the cheesecake and serve a syrup pud instead as “B would enjoy it”.  Other, stronger, women would have told him to make it himself but sad, sweet-toothed individual that I am, I was tempted myself.  Enough said! Several hours later, we tucked into sponge and custard and the cheesecake was ready for the freezer!

 

Treacle Pudding by Angela Hartnett

Ingredients

180g/6oz unsalted butter, softened, plus extra for greasing

3 tbsp golden syrup

180g/6oz plain flour

3 tsp baking powder

3 free-range eggs

180g/6oz Demerara sugar

1 tbsp black treacle

Preparation method

1. Grease a 1litre/1¾ pints pudding basin with butter. Put the golden

syrup in to the bottom of the basin.

2. In a separate bowl, using an electric hand whisk, mix the flour,

baking powder, butter, eggs, sugar and treacle until well combined.

3. Pour the mixture into the basin and cover with a piece of greaseproof

paper.

4. Take a piece of tin foil and make a pleat down the middle, then place

this over the top of pudding basin and tie it in place like a lid. The

pleat allows the foil to expand during cooking.

5. Place an upturned saucer or a ramekin in a deep saucepan and sit

the pudding on top. Add boiling water until it comes half-way up the

basin. Place a lid on the pan and simmer gently to stream the

pudding for about 2¼ hours, topping up the water as necessary.

6. To check if the pudding is cooked, insert a metal skewer into the

pudding. If it comes out clean it is ready.

7. Carefully remove the pudding from the pan. Loosen the edges by

running a knife around the pudding and turn out onto a plate

Loch Lochy

Our pre-Christmas break upto Loch Lochy was perfect.   We had no real idea of what to expect but the snowy landscape, lovely hotel and complete absence of pre-Christmas hullabaloo was just what we needed.  I was feeling a tad smug as I had at least posted all my Christmas Cards earlier in the week so was able to maximise the opportunity to relax.  The weather was damp and misty as is so often the case in the Highlands but we still got out for a couple of walks, found a few geocaches and managed a little bit of Christmas shopping

Cycling in slush

We had a sleety snow storm this morning which made my daily cycle to work somewhat interesting. Sharing a dual cycle/footpath with pedestrians was a challenge in itself, as many of the leaves littering the pavements were frozen and covered in slush so they presented a treacherous surface for the unwary. Despite keeping to a low speed, I was unnerved to see people ahead of me, their ipods plugged into their ears, skittering about with little obvious awareness of what was going on around them. Thankfully, I made it to the office safely, without skidding or taking any one out!

Bah Humbug

It isn’t even half way through December and I’m already heartily sick of Christmas muzak in shops and public places.  It seems that the moment bonfire night is over, we are treated to Wizard, Slade and Wham assaulting our ears wherever to go. Each year, I feel that the over commercialisation of Christmas cannot get any worse but I’m always wrong. It’s clear that there seems to be a belief in the minds of retail marketing managers that the playing of Christmas music will provoke a Pavlovian response in shoppers who will immediately open their wallets and spend, spend, spend

Resilience

My friend’s husband remains critically ill with no sign of improvement.  I can’t begin to imagine how his family must be feeling, the severity of his illness coming as a shock to them.  But my friend and her sister, who naturally is being incredibly supportive, are both strong women, a trait inherited from their mother who was a resilient Irish woman with a big heart.  Thankfully, that quality will sustain them through the coming weeks, whatever the outcome.  Sadly, but inevitably, some of us will find ourselves thrust suddenly into unimaginable situations; it’s important we develop the abilities to cope 

Advent

Despite Nerea being almost 21, I was unsurprised when she insisted on having her pocket Advent calendar filled with treats again this year.  I made it for her when she was a baby and it’s made an appearance every year since, even when she was living abroad.  The only difference is that the contents have changed.  In years gone by, the pockets were filled with  hair slides, chocolate snowmen and novelty stationery items but now, although we still have sweet treats, there are several forms  of chocolate liqueur and alcoholic beverage accompaniments in addition to the sugar canes and Santas!

Your thoughts and prayers are needed

Tonight, one of my dearest friends is facing one of life’s toughest tests. Her husband is critically ill and fighting for his life. The circumstances that have brought this about are irrelevant; all I know is that she is a beautiful person who must be truly suffering. Whatever the outcome of this ongoing situation, ultimately, it will be life changing for all those involved, including their children who are with her at the hospital.  Please keep my friend and her family in your thoughts and reflections tonight and if you have a faith, please offer up your prayers for them. 

Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery

Although I don’t know Birmingham well, I needed to find a quiet place that wouldn’t be playing Christmas muzak as I had to join two telephone conferences during a change of trains.  In desperation, I headed off to the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery and found a spot in the Tea Room with a refreshing pot of tea. Between calls, I explored the museum and was delighted to discover several paintings from my childhood “Art Book”, the Staffordshire Hoard, a gallery celebrating local social history and a Henry Moore sculpture!  I’ll definitely be returning to this wonderful city centre gem!

The Blind Girl  by John Everett Millais

There may be a platform alteration.....

I had my fingers crossed all day yesterday as I was heading South by train. I rarely have a hassle free journey so was astonished (yes, really) when I arrived in  Birmingham unscathed.  I headed off for a cup of tea and a conference call to a place of culture before resuming my journey.  And that’s when my travel disruption powers automatically activated, for my train to Reading was delayed for 90 minutes!  Clearly my inner desire to view hitherto unseen railway architecture had worked, although the remodelled New Street Station fails to meet my criteria of a beautiful station!

Beauty is all around

A pair of flying swans, their long necks and beating wings iridescent against charcoal clouds, swollen with rain; A rainbow, soaring into the sky across the patchwork of fields and stone walls below; The pink and orange cushion of dawn light, chasing away the darkness of night. 

I‘m very fortunate to have witnessed these simple yet memorable sights over the last couple of days, being lucky enough to live in a part of the world that has so much natural splendour. But, anyone can find something to delight in as beauty is all around us if we look closely enough….

Repent, repent

The countryside surrounding the Scottish/Anglo border is littered with legacies of those violent centuries when land and property ownership was hotly disputed by Border Reiving families. Standing on Trailtrow Hill, the Repentance Tower formed a watchtower for nearby Hoddom Castle. The tower is known as such because Sir John Maxwell, who had made allegiances to the English, was bribed to support the Scots in exchange for the hand of Agnes Herries and the title, “Lord Herries”. But as his actions cost the lives of several of his loyal supporters, Maxwell allegedly built the tower as a sign of his remorse

Winter Roses

I thought winter had arrived the other morning as I needed to wear gloves on my cycle to work for the first time in months but, I couldn’t help noticing when I was shutting the back gate on my way out, that there were still over 2 dozen roses in bloom.  I thought  I’d picked the last of them 3 weeks ago before we went away to Wales but there were rather more buds hidden under the leaves  than I had realised.  It lifted my spirits to see them, reminding me that beauty can often be found in unlikely situations

Literary Mountains

I enjoyed another literary evening yesterday.  The theme of “mountains” resonated positively with me but surprisingly, I couldn’t find any poems that produced the emotional response I was seeking. Instead, I found several passages of descriptive prose that reflected my thoughts.  The supper contributions were all delicious and enhanced the convivial ambiance of the evening but it was the breadth and depth of the readings chosen and in one case, composed, that made the gathering memorable.  I’m intending  to explore the work of Norman MacCaig  as his poetry was as powerful, beautiful and resolute as the mountains he described

The Mutiny on The Bounty

As a chil, I remember being horrified by the film, Mutiny on the Bounty, starring Marlon Brando and Trevor Howard ("I love you Laura. I will love you always until the end of my life"; infinitely more preferable! ) which inevitably, despite its historical inaccuracy, was a favourite of my blood-thirsty brothers. In later years, attempting to broaden my knowledge of the ill-fated mission, I began to read "The Bounty Trilogy" by Charles Nordhoff and James Norman Hall but didn't get beyond page 56. But, irrespective of that, I was delighted to visit recently the site of Captain Bligh's London house

London Necropolis Railway

I’m always astonished at London’s secret past.  Last Thursday I discovered the terminus of the former London Necropolis Railway at Waterloo. Opened in 1854, it offered a solution to overcrowding in London's existing graveyards, providing transport for coffins and mourners to Brookwood Cemetery in Surrey. The building was specifically designed with private waiting rooms which could be used to hold funeral services, and a hydraulic lift to raise coffins to platform level from the railway arches where bodies were stored before their final journey. It closed in 1941 after a bombing raid but remains an incredible insight into social history

War Horse

We’ve just watched “War Horse” and despite knowing the story, it was a roller coaster of genuine emotion.  Some of the images, particularly those of fighting from the trenches during the shelling, were incredibly powerful and moving.  Mr Glis’s Grandfather fought at the Somme and was one of the lucky ones who survived. His brother, sadly, was one of the thousands who died. What was clear from this film was that there was nothing glorious about this war (and countless others) and a generation of young men was needlessly wasted. And yet we still haven’t learned to love one another

Moel Siabod

 Moel Siabod has all the essential requirements of a favourite mountain. An interesting walk in, through old mining and quarrying works, a splendid ridge to the summit and an interesting but straightforward descent with some varied scenery.  It’s also our primary mountain weather forecasting tool as its summit is in view of our holiday cottage.  If we can see it, it’s either been raining or is just about to rain: it it’s invisible, then it’s actually raining. Our recent journey to the summit was on a splendid autumnal day with only a hint of rain, giving us wonderful summit views

                                                                                                                                                            

St Gelynnin, Henryd

Tucked away on the side of a hill above Henryd near Conwy nestles a small chapel dedicated to St Gelynnin .  Discovered through our geocaching adventures, it represents worship from years gone by, when the agricultural dwellings scattered across the hillsides provided homes for large families who, in fear of God, the local Minister and their neighbours, attended chapel each Sunday. Although the pews looked to be suitably uncomfortable for  enduring those “hell fire and damnation” sermons, there were some delightful features, such as the ancient writings on the East wall and the font at the back of the chapel

St Cwyfan - the little church in the sea

Our recent week in Wales introduced us to several more hidden gems by way of geocaching . Our first find was a tiny chapel, dedicated  to St Cwyfan, perched on an island just off the coast of Angelesy.  We had to approach by a causeway at low tide which was something of an adventure but we all managed to make the crossing without slipping on the seaweed.  Sadly the chapel was closed to visitors but we were able to peep inside and imagine how former parishioners would have sat and listened to sermons to the accompaniment of the crashing waves

Our Week in Wales

Our annual week in Wales seemed to come and go in a flash.  As a pre-winter restorative, it works very well, although after just one day back in the office, a week wasn’t nearly long enough!  Almost inevitably, and despite my best intentions, I have eaten far too much (although I did avoid hot toast at breakfast in an untypical burst of puritanical self-righteousness) and now feel that I should embark on a healthier eating programme that, sadly, doesn’t involve daily rations of home-made cake with a cup of tea.  Somehow, carrot juice just doesn’t match up to carrot cake

Halloween

We may no longer have a small person living in our house but we can still participate in some Halloween fun as several  children on the street will be “trick or treating”  tonight with their parents.  The recent, over commercialism of Halloween is something that still sits uncomfortably with us but when it’s limited to small children dressing up as witches or ghosts  coming in search of sweeties, we actually quite enjoy it.  There’s a sparkly spider’s web on the front door, a small, carved gourd glowing in the dining room window and packets of sugary treats ready for distribution!

Park in the Past

A friend of ours is involved in an exciting new venture called Park in the Past.  It’s a Community Interest initiative that hopes to transform a disused quarry in Flintshire, North Wales into a unique window into the past so that visitors can step back in time and see how our ancestors lived. The ambitious plans include building a fully functional Roman fort and Iron Age farmstead which will be sustainably managed, using locally produced materials.  The site will encourage experimental archaeology in addition to creating and supporting the sustainable management of wildlife habitats. It’s a superb, local community initiative

But is it art or abuse?

Despite recently abusing a paperback book to make a 3D tree, as a book lover and hoarder, I'm still not entirely sure what to think about cannibalising books for crafty, artistic purposes.  Even though I used a battered, thrift-store,crime thriller that I’d read in the tent on our summer trip without worrying about damaging it, I felt guilty. I simply hadn’t been able to throw the book away and because it was too tatty to donate, I decided to turn it into a folded, paper Christmas tree.  Although it’s unfinished, it looks effective and yet I remain feeling discomforted!

A disgusting habit

When in London I enjoy the opportunity to walk along the famous (or even not so famous) streets admiring the buildings or looking at the architecture while making my way to a destination. But being a non-smoker and asthmatic, since the smoking ban, I have become increasingly aware of the large number of people who now smoke on the street.  It’s extremely unpleasant to walk through a wall of disgusting, choking pollution.  Having been to both Washington State and British Columbia, I think we should adopt their approach of not allowing smoking outside within several meters of doors and windows.

Earth Caching in the City

When I left my meeting last week, I didn’t seek out the company of those fellow attendees who were going out for a drink but instead, disappeared off in search of several Earthcaches.  That may appear unsociable but contrary to outward appearances,  I’m actually quite happy with my own company after a day of meetings with strangers.  London is full of hidden geological secrets  and Earthcaches are a splendid way of discovering them. After discovering street stalactites, ancient Egyptian granite and fossils, I headed off to the river beach to find flints in the dark. I enjoyed a perfect evening!

A sense of history makes my day

The weather in London was glorious when I arrived last Thursday morning. I thoroughly enjoyed my brisk (as rush hour was over) walk from the station to the office and entered the hallowed portals with a degree of reluctance. But happily, it wasn't all shade and shadows as the meeting room was at the top of the building, with a double aspect. With barely a turn of my head, I could see both Westminster Abbey and Cathedral, the Post Office Tower and the top of the Palace of Westminster. My craving for a sense of history had been satisfied temporarily!

"Sole" seeking

 

There’s a tree on a lonely road at Knowesgate, near Kirkwhelpington in Northumberland that bears an unusual fruit.  Its branches are laden with shoes of all kinds.  No one really seems to know how the custom began but there are many theories. Some say it was a couple of local tradesmen who adopted the alleged American tradition whereby prospectors used to hang old boots from a tree near to their excavations as a good luck charm.  Others say they’re hung there to promote fertility or represent “walking” a life journey. Whatever its history, it’s quirky and an entertaining conversation piece

A windy hilltop

I knew I was back on an English hill top when I stood by the trig point looking across a sea of knee high heather in a howling gale.  The only thing that was missing was the chill factor as, the temperature was unseasonably warm meaning  the wind hadn’t frozen my extremities, as usually happens.

I love the wide open spaces of boggy, tussocky moorland that seem to be unique to this part of the world. To tramp across rough ground, face into the wind, is one of my greatest pleasures and something I appreciate every time I’m out there!

Reflections

As I walked into the Newcastle office this morning, my spirits were lifted by the reflections on the River Tyne.  The low tide had become a canvas of still, calm, water creating a beautiful, mirrored, industrial portrait of Dunstan Staithes.  When I remarked on this to my colleagues I was surprised at how few seemed to appreciate the shifting landscape outside their window. Perhaps it’s only visitors who can appreciate the restless, ever changing scenery of the tidal waters. Its magical properties seemed lost on those who, bowed down with workaday cares, pass by each day, unseeing of its beauty,

Exercise is good for you? Really?

I’ve recently begun running again and despite various aches and pains, have enjoyed the experience in a masochistic way. I enjoy being out of doors and on a work day, when the alternative is being closeted in front of my computer in a stuffy office, even when the weather is cool or windy, it’s always preferable.  Sadly, I don’t ever seem to get the post exercise high that many other people enjoy, so I’m probably not pushing myself enough but try telling that to my brain as my aged pelvis, hip and knee joints protest.  Now where are my trainers?

World Earth Cache Day

I was very pleased with the Earthcaching event that Andy and I hosted in Carlisle on Sunday in celebration of World Earthcaching day.  3 newish cachers and I added to the “enjoyment” of the event by undertaking a 3 mile Earthcache run, before meeting up with the other local cachers who were collectively tucking into home-made cake. Sadly, geo-dogs were in short supply apart from 3 Kinnear’s beautiful terrier, as the event was in the town centre outside the Cathedral but we were all entertained by a splendid yellow Labrador who gatecrashed the party, attempting to rob us of cake!