My New Best Friend - Dodo the Sourdough

 I've taken up this whole idea of make your own sourdough bread really late. Everyone else discovered it back in the first lockdown, but it was spring and the weather was nice then, and I spent a lot of time gardening. During the second lockdown I mainly focused on Christmas and that (broken) promise that we'd be allowed a five day get together. 

But with another lockdown announced for after Christmas I felt I needed a focus to get me through to spring. January is too early for sowing seeds or doing anything outside in the garden so I was looking a house-based activity that would be more inspiring than dusting or ironing. Trying Veganuary helped me focus on food and cooking, and a sourdough culture seemed the next logical step.

 I asked for advice from Twitter before I started and someone recommended following Colm O Gorman, food columnist for the Irish Examiner, on Instagram, and his posts and videos made everything look SO easy. It isn't an overly complicated process - make some flour and water paste, keep it warm, throw half away each but day but feed the remainder with extra flour and water each - and sure enough at the end of a week I'd made a loaf, then a few days later another, and eventually one that looked good.

One of the delights has been the other things I've made 'on the side' from the half of starter that is discarded everyday (otherwise there's be the most massive loaf to be baked at the end of the week). I'd got the idea for this from author Sarah Jasmon (Sarahontheboat on Instagram) who I'd seen posting pictures of lovely things made this way.

First I attempted pancakes, just using the runny discard, but then I grew a bit more confident and added more flour to make cinnamon buns, dough balls, dumplings, and even cakes.

My two favourite things though are naan bread (cooked in a frying pan) and pizza.

Throughout these last few weeks it's turned out to be really therapeutic, giving me something to direct my thoughts and keep them away from lockdown misery.

 The sourdough culture is now at a point where I could allow it to rest somewhere cool for a few days, without needing to be fed every day, but for now I'm enjoying my experiments. 

Projects to see me through winter lockdown

 Today is Blue Monday, supposedly the most depressing day of the year. And this year surely has to be one of the most depressing on the record. Coronavirus is frightening. Lockdown is boring. The weather is generally dull and dismal - apart from a few rare days, we haven't had beautiful sunny frosty mornings, or even snow which would be exciting, and no problem as we're stuck at home - and spring seems a long way off. But even stuck at home I can decide to live a little differently.

I usually start the year with a list of resolutions, what I would like to achieve in the coming months but they often tend to be vague concepts rather than concrete plans. This year I feel I need something a little more specific than 'do art' or 'get fit', and I need something to do now, not when summer comes round. 

So I've replaced 'eat healthier' with 'join in Veganuary'. The rules are simple - avoid meat and dairy - and there's a finite length to it. Meals take more planning, to avoid pumpkin chili everyday, and longer to cook, which is good as it fills the day. 

It's probably not much healthier though, despite the soups for lunch, because there's no limit on sugar, and experimenting with vegan cake recipes is a good way to spend a damp afternoon.

As a sort of follow on to this I've decided, later than everyone else of course, to set up a sour dough culture. Two days in it isn't looking great, but there's time yet, and importantly it adds another thing which must be done each day*.

'Get fitter' has been replaced by 'up the step count'. There was a dreadful point towards the end of the first lockdown when I realised I was hardly taking more than a thousand steps a day! I don't want to fall into this laziness again. The weather isn't appealing for getting out and about right now, though I have some nice new 'sale' boots to wear, and my average step count has been dropping, but I can always add in a few minutes of zumba-style antics during the day, or just walk up and down the hallway for 250 steps every hour when prompted. 

Christmas marked a point where a lot of my knitting and sewing projects were finished, so after a week or so of laziness I've settled on what next. First a pair of gloves from Christmas present yarn, then a hat or scarf to match. 

Alongside, as knitting is an evening occupation, a skirt renovation, turning long and full, into shorter and somewhat tighter to wear with leggings. Another of my Christmas presents was a scarf-dying kit, but that's going to wait for milder weather as I think I'll do the messiest bits outside. And for later on in Spring, I've a grow-your-own-snowman-pumpkin' kit to start growing. 

I knit mostly while watching TV so, looking for a lengthy challenge, I've started rewatching Better Call Saul. That's a lot of episodes so should last for a few weeks. And then I'll follow it with Breaking Bad. The two don't quite join up yet, but they almost do. And for something more cheerful, I'm going to watch Frasier re-runs, if I can find it streaming somewhere.

For dark afternoons, I've taken up an old winter pastime - playing on the Wii, specifically Lego Lord of the Rings. Again, it takes a while, especially if the known bug (collecting things in the wrong order in the Weathertop section) kicks in and I have to start back at the beginning. When the days start to get longer, I'll probably abandon the little hobbits on their way to Mount Doom and sit out in the garden but fro now it fills a dead space in the day.

Hopefully by the end of lockdown I'll be able to put a 'completed' tick against most of the items on my list, but till then they'll keep me occupied.

Above all I want to be positive in my outlook on life.

*the sourdough DID get going and has turned out brilliantly. 

Looking forward to winter?

Today is a bright sunny day. Blue sky is appearing from behind the clouds, and it looks like an excellent day for getting outside walking or gardening.

But winter is on the way. With its short days and bad weather, it's never the best time of year, and with the renewed threat of coronavirus, and possible disruptions to whatever we might have planned for Christmas holiday season it's looking more depressing than usual. 

By now I would normally have a number of evenings out planned at gigs or the theatre (summer is off-season as bands do the rounds of festivals, and theatres take a break) but even the limited socially-distanced events I've seen advertised don't seem all that appealing, and I don't want to risk booking anything for spring as who knows what the situation may be then. 

It's time to face it - this winter is going to be one spent at home.

Time I think for a cunning plan, or at least to find ways to make the time pass in a not-too-dismal fashion. The thought of curling up under a blanket with a box-set running on TV is tempting, but having something to focus on and achieve - from creativity indoors to exercise outside - is essential for me; it stops me worrying constantly about the pandemic and its effect on all our lives.

Outdoors, I'll be spending time in the garden whenever possible; at the moment there are apples to pick and trees to trim, so I'm occupied out there while it's fine. There won't be so much to do as we head into winter, but shortly into New Year seed-sowing for flowers and veg starts again, and as soon as we reach February I'll be searching the flowerbeds each day for the first signs of snowdrops.

Having got back a reasonable level of fitness (after the laziness of early lockdown), I want to maintain, and even improve, it. I'm trying to get my step count higher each week, so I'll be trying to keep up one day out walking each week, weather permitting. For the past couple of years Zoe at Splodzblogz has been challenging herself and her followers to get outside for an hour each day throughout November. I joined in last year, even though I didn't manage to do it every day, and again it's one of those things to give focus to the days. I'm not sure if she's intending to do the same this year, but I'm going to try anyway. 

Obviously at this time of year indoors can frequently seem more appealing than out, and I'm planning to take time out for 'me time'. Not the soaking in a candle-lit bath vibe, but things which absorb my attention and make a little semi-creative bubble in which I can lose myself.

I've rediscovered my clothes making mojo during lockdown. I was trying anyway to do a combination of buy no new clothes and use up the stash, so it fitted well. I've finished a couple of skirts, am in the middle of another, and, as I still wear trousers more than skirts, I'm thinking of taking some old, relegated to the back of the wardrobe, long floaty skirts in brushed cottons and turning them into tops. For evenings in front of the TV, I'm starting to plan ahead what I might use from from wool stash to make cardigans/jumpers for winter. I'm still making a summer one in cotton (!) but need to move onto warmer things soon.

Over the past few months, I've also revived my interest in cooking - prompted by the intermittent gluts of produce that come from the allotment. Earlier in the year we had an unprecedented surplus of cauliflower (a lot ended up in the freezer). More recently there's been an abundance of kale, and I've enjoyed finding new ways to use it - from stir fries to soups to chilli. Looking through recipe books and sorting out the numerous recipes cut from magazines keeps me occupied in itself, even without the end result of dinner. I've found myself starting to plan meals several days ahead (something I hardly ever do) and trying something new at home seems like a better idea at the moment than eating out. Over winter there'll be less allotment produce, but the stored apples, pumpkins, and beetroot will be looking for innovative ways to be eaten. And, way behind the trend as always, I could even start a sourdough culture.

One of my resolutions this year had been to find time for something creative, and at last I've organised myself enough to do it. I'd hoped to be able to join a 'real' art group or take a short course or two but neither is possible with coronavirus. Instead I've joined an on-line art group which is giving me the necessary 'push' I needed to take up pencils and scrawl, and also to allow myself time to do it.

In many ways this feels like setting out New Years resolutions. I'm hoping all these plans will give me something to focus on over the coming months, instead of feeling cooped up, waiting impatiently for spring.

The Good Life Experience, at home

Over the weekend I was 'out' at another festival -The Good Life Experience.
In better times this would take place at Hawarden Castle in North Wales but this year the real life event has been postponed and re-formatted into a social-distancing-friendly online event beamed straight to festival-goers living rooms.

I first heard about it quite a few years ago, when, having dipped my toe in the festival scene at Curious Arts, I wanted to rush out and experience more. The Good Life Experience seemed a good fit for me - a celebration of all the things that aren't fast, commercial and 9-to-5, from crafts and cookery, to wild swimming and star-gazing.
Life got in the way back then but it's still on my 'festival bucket list', and if anything this year's at home taster session has deepened my desire to go.
For this year though, the Good Life Experience had to move online; free, but only for those who already have tickets for next year, or, like me, have our names down on the waiting list. In advance I received a package with info about events, vinyl to to take part in a creative workshop, recipes for the campfire cookery, and badges and stickers. Putting plans together it almost seemed like heading off to a real life festival.

I didn't try to do everything. I often arrive at festivals with plans to do and see a hundred things, but they never work out. I did have a busy, fun day though.

I started at 10 with a stretch and exercise class led by Leighton Sharpe.  It's not normally my kind of thing, and even less likely to be at a festival after a late night and erratic sleep in the tent, but sitting around with a cup of tea after breakfast I thought I'd look in via Zoom and discovered that the early part of the session looked do-able even for me, though I did drop out quite soon.
Later I caught a variety of Good Life Experience 'regulars' talking under the banner of Reimagine Your Life about how they'd coped through lockdown - the affect on their businesses and daily lives, what they'd learned, watched, listened to. It made me reflect on my year, what I've missed, and what I've oddly enjoyed about this time. Perhaps I'll stretch these thoughts into a post later.

Cerys Mathews read poetry.


Romy Gill demonstrated things to make on a campfire that were a far cry from toasted marshmallows and burnt (but still sadly uncooked) sausages.

In his Reasons To Be Cheerful event Mark Shayler introduced three people who via diverse paths have found their special 'thing' in life - for Kingsley Walters that was leatherwork, for Yvonne Telford, designing vibrant clothes to make women stand out, and for Amanjot Singh Johal it was running a specialist 'gin joint'. Mark's idea of 'have less, buy better' is something that I realise I've been practising for many years - buying individually produced craft pieces or clothes instead of high street mass production. I think my life is enriched by it, and anyway I like to have things which are a little bit unusual.

David Setter led a vinyl art workshop. It's a little like cutting out shapes of ready-gummed paper to create a collage - but trickier and demanding much more dexterity. David made it look so easy! I'm pleased with my finished kingfisher, adding some leftover scraps to make water, and might try to make another picture from the leftover snippets.

After demonstrations of campfire cooking and how to mix a perfect G+T, I decided to try both, bringing my day to a close cooking in the easier environment of my kitchen while the festival disco track played in the background. My attempt at roti flat bread wasn't a success (both burnt and undercooked like campfire sausages), but both courgette sabzi and the G+T were excellent.













All in all I had a really enjoyable day (although my daughter rather laughed at me attending an on-line festival). There were other activities I could have taken part in - joined a dance workshop, learned how to whittle a spoon, or watched a dog show held on Zoom (possibly the best use of that platform that I've heard of). One day I'll get along to Hawarden itself (perhaps next year with luck) but for now I have something to occupy me ...




Included with the information pack was The Good Life Handbook; fourteen activities for fourteen weekends - a preview of a book to be published later this year, full of challenging and engaging things to do. I firmly believe that despite my age there are new things to experience and discover (and, no, not a trip to Bali. That's never been my style), so I'll be trying some of these activities, and maybe adding some of my own.

Lockdown - Week 7: May 5th - 11th

It feels like this week has just been one long exercise in waiting - for cold nights to finish threatening frost so I can start the next seasonal phase of gardening, and for Boris's big announcement on Sunday.

Meanwhile I've been re-discovering my interest in cooking and baking. For a while I haven't been making much effort. When she lived at home, my younger daughter had become the main cook. When she left, first to university, then to live in Manchester, I drifted about making little effort (at first I even forgot dinner-time), then my parents fell ill, and microwaving a frozen meal became the norm. My husband seems to show the same enthusiasm for a dinner that's taken straight from the freezer as he does for one that takes an hour or so's effort. It's taken over a year, and this enforced quiet time, for me to have any real interest in what I cook, but now I'm finding my inner domestic goddess, and cooking to please myself.

A lot of what I'm baking is essentially comfort food - muffins and cakes - but following on from my home-made tapas of the other week, I'm experimenting with new recipes, generally centred on allotment produce, or last year's frozen version of it. So this week's menu has included blackberry and white choc chip muffins, cake and jam with rhubarb from the allotment and garden, and tray-bake and risotto to use up the last of last year's leeks.



It's been another busy 'out and about' week - Sophie Okonedo and Ralph Fiennes in the National Theatre Live's brilliant production of Antony and Cleopatra, another Frank Turner gig, and a So Many Sundays gig from Isolate Live, featuring Morning Crush, Tom Dulieu, then a gap for Boris's speech, and back to see Joe Tilston.
Another regular feature of Sunday is our family quiz. This week was a music quiz and we mostly proved we didn't know anything, but it was great fun, and the most I've laughed all week.

Otherwise, I'm losing myself with online jigsaws. I said they'd prove to be addictive, and they are. In part they may be a form of mindfulness, and they certainly calm me and stop me overthinking things, and the [pieces make a delightful 'click' as they fall correctly in to place.



The warm weather came back again briefly, the roses, laburnum, fuchsias and peonies all began to flower, and I spent a contented afternoon or two mainly just sitting in the garden

But despite getting my hopes up, the promise of summer didn't stay around, the frosts are still with us (so my newly planted peas and sweetpeas are swaddled in bubblewrap), and Boris didn't really have much to say apart from 'Go back to work, you lazy lot' which was of no relevance to me, so it's back to another week or more of waiting around.

Lockdown - week 5: 21st - 27th April

Part of me can't quite believe this lockdown has been going on for five weeks. The time seems to have passed in a daze. I've said it before but the day of the week, and the date of the month are losing meaning; the only real marker being the succession of flowers in the garden. The continuing warm weather still makes me feel that this is a holiday of sorts, which contributes to the aimless drifting of days.

With this in mind, I decided that I'd try to make something a little different for one dinner of the week. This week I tried making my own tapas - tortilla, patatas bravas, pan con tomate, chorizo in red wine and honey, and a cheese and meat board (or plate). It wasn't a total success as the tortilla got a little over-cooked, but as a whole it worked, and it's something that I'd eat out but not normally attempt at home. I even made gin tonico with my birthday Skye gin and  elderflower spritzer, garnished with lemon balm and thyme. I'm now wondering what to attempt for future weeks - possibly something that might pass as pub-grub with an 'all you can eat' salad bar, or 'extras' such as pickles and naan bread with curry.






I'm going to need to plan ahead for this when shopping but I'm now finding that although it may still be tricky to get a supermarket delivery (slots are sensibly being saved for the most vulnerable) it's comparatively easy to click and collect. This feels a safer, less exposed option than actual in-store shopping so Friday saw us heading off to top up supplies. Unfortunately the treats - chocolates and crisps - went a little rapidly, and we were soon down to 'proper' food.

I have a tendency to binge-eat like this at the best of times and lockdown has made that worse. At the end of Week 4, I looked at the scales and realised how easily and quickly I'm putting weight on, and decided I should do something to change my habits. I can't quite say I've been dieting, but I have started to watch how much I'm eating, and at least this week I haven't put more weight on (which counts as a result)

I've discovered online jigsaws - and yes, without a bit of caution, I could become hooked. As the pieces lock together they make an extremely satisfying 'click', so there's no change of putting a wrong piece in, and the monotonous sections such as sky are completed much easier than with a physical jigsaw.

I've finished a hat to go with my new rainbow scarf, finished a couple of weeks ago. Actually it's the second hat I've made, as the first was strange. I tried to use the scarf pattern but it looked like something a flower fairy might wear, so I unraveled the yarn, and knitted it up as a plain hat.



It's been another busy 'out and about' week, with livestreamed gigs and theatre.
Thursday - gig round at Frank Turner's, raising money for independent music venues, followed by Bruce Springsteen's segment from the Jersey4Jersey benefit.
Friday - Twelfth Night from National Theatre Live - brilliant and funny interpretation, and Tamsin Greig's Malvolia was wonderful. I followed it with Friday Night Dinner just to see her in something totally different.
Saturday - Bustival livestream festival, organised by Vans for Bands who are raising funds to supply their tour buses as rest and accommodation facilities for doctors and nurses. You can find more details on their FB page and a link to the crowdfunder here. I didn't attempt to catch all of the acts, just Mark Evans (with a Young Rebel set), Frank Turner (again), Will Varley, and Skinny Lister (with month old baby)
Monday - Sean McGowan livestream gig, followed by a trip to the theatre, this time for a RSC production of Macbeth starring Christopher Eccleston and Niamh Cusack




It's not been all fun though as recent news has reported that 'disruptive social distancing' is likely to the end of the year, and anyone over 60 ought to be considered high risk. For now things are manageable but I'm beginning to wonder what my situation might be in a few months, and whether I'll be able to see my daughters, especially if they're no longer working from home but mixing with other people in an office. Worrying, of course, won't make any difference so I'm trying to still take
each day/week one at a time; potter in the garden, sit in the sun, and try to enjoy this weird time.