Jottings - November 1st

 This week has been one spent at home (I felt half-term holidays would make even our usual 'safe' places too busy), so my focus has been on the smaller things, from waking to sunshine through the bedroom window, to catching a brief red sunset or a glimpse of pink clouds at the end of the day. 

I've limited my walking to our suburban estate, staying on hard surfaces and avoiding the playing fields and wood because of rain and mud. Even the pavements were beautiful though, covered in leaves of differing colours and shapes. 

The rain, or the avoidance of it, added some more special moments to the week - a flock of rooks against a briefly clear sky, a burst of brightness as the sun set, and a lucky dash out to bring in laundry just before a torrential downpour. 

Around the house, apart from time spent delighting in the autumnal view from the kitchen window or thinking how pretty creamy beans looked in a maroon bowl, I've ticked a number of small jobs that have been lurking around for a while off the to-do list - which always feels like a major win - and hunted out and cooked another new dinner from the cookery books. 

This week's recipe was creamy garlic chicken from Pinch of Nom by Kate Allinson and Kay Featherstone; it tasted great, but was rather fiddly to make. I'll definitely cook it again, but change the method to make it simpler. Oh, and I added pasta which probably wasn't what the authors intended in a 'diet' book. 

Another foodie delight was a surprise handful of blackberries and raspberries from the allotment - just enough to brighten a breakfast.

One morning I spotted a surprise visitor in my greenhouse - a wren. Fortunately it flew away as soon as the door was opened but I've no idea how long it got inside, or how long it was there. Something had been eating the grapes, and digging up seedlings, but I'd assumed it was a mouse. Maybe the wren had been living inside for quite a while. I've seen it flitting round the garden since, so presumably it's no worse for its adventure.

A major contributor to this week's good mood has been the success of my planned clock change - or lack of it. I realised round about July that I'd not managed to adapt to the Spring clock-change. I was still living on GMT; getting up, and going to bed, an hour late. By then it didn't seem worth trying to get in line with the world, so I carried on as I was, and last weekend everyone re-set their clocks back to 'my' time. I'm now apparently waking earlier and going to sleep at a reasonable time, and all with no effort on my part.

The new lockdown announcement hasn't really come as a shock; mostly because I felt prepared for it. I'd expected a firebreak would be coming soon, and started this series of 'looking at the good side' posts in readiness for it. Apart from seeing family, it will have little effect on me, so, so far at least, I'm taking it all in my stride.

Jottings - 25th October - Autumn

 

If there's such a thing as a theme to these ramblings, then this week's is about enjoying autumn - from delighting in the glorious colours of the trees or kicking up fallen leaves, to searching out new seasonal recipes, it's all mood-enhancing, and an antidote to the gloom of political and coronavirus events. If the weather's been fine, I've been out walking. If it hasn't, I've watched the leaves drifting across the lawn, and searched my recipe books for warming dinners.

I started the week with an afternoon at Kedleston. The weather wasn't great but it stayed dry, and we had an enjoyable potter under the trees of the Long Walk, spotting various sorts of fungi on the way. 

Being determined to keep my new exercise habits, I've been out walking near home several evenings, when even a suburban tree becomes beautiful, with streetlight glowing through yellow leaves.

 And of course, with clear sky and a bit of clever timing, there's always a sunset to be seen.

At home I have a variety of trees - apples, birch, cherry - but this week two have been particularly delightful. The rowan outside my window is an absolute joy on a sunny day, and even the far-too-large-for-its-space sycamore or field maple just outside the garden, which annoys me most of the year, now looks wonderful glowing against a blue sky.  

A little wind brings the leaves falling  over the lawn in a golden shower and settling in my vegetable patch where they contrast sharply with the dark cavolo nero kale.

It's getting colder though, so time to double-up skater boy style by layering two t-shirts; a Sean McGowan shirt (from the old days of going out to gigs) with an appropriate slogan for this week - When people are divided, people can be owned. (don't start me on the way Manchester has been treated or the despicable way the government has got out of funding free school meals for half term because this is meant to be an upbeat sort of post)

Having got back into the habit of cooking more dinners 'from scratch', I've been on the hunt for warming autumnal meals. I spent a busy afternoon immersed in cookery books tracking down recipes that would use the produce coming from the allotment. The Abel and Cole Cookbook, being centred around seasonal produce, was particularly helpful with lots of ways to use pumpkins. There's a sad lack of ideas about how to use the constant supply of kale, so that's back to my inventiveness. 

We have beans as well this week, as the plants have been cleared out, so I decided on 'borlotti bean and squash stew' - though these Kentucky Wonder Wax beans are nearer to cannellini, and I used pumpkin instead of squash.

It was another week ending on a good note and a family visit. This time from our toddler grandson (and his parents). We went kite-flying on the playing fields and then for a walk round the wood, though with a toddler in charge of the expedition we ended up in mud! 

Life at the moment is, I feel, a lot like this photograph taken from the far side of our local wood. Just out of shot is an encroaching housing development, which like the virus, and the restrictions to contain it, could spread across enjoining areas. For this winter, I'm going to keep my sights on the field and countryside beyond - not going out further other than to places I know are safe, finding good things around me, and trying to not worry too much about things which are out of my control.

Fungi and autumnal foliage at Kedleston

This week's day out took me back to Kedleston Hall for a stroll under the trees of the Long Walk.

The day wasn't as bright as I'd hoped but the turning leaves made up for that, and it seemed perfect weather for fungi-spotting.

Off through the gates leading to the Long Walk. 

So many different sizes and shapes of fungi! I have no idea what any of them are.

At the end of the walk we took a slight detour to visit something we've not seen before - the Splash Pool. I'm guessing it was effectively a private swimming pool, formed, as the lakes are, by damming the brook which runs through Kedleston grounds. I'm rather glad I didn't find it in summer as a splash in it would be hard to resist.

 

Jottings - 18th October

 I feel a bit (lot) like we're heading into a deep, dark (quite scary) tunnel for winter. While my area hasn't been put into any of the increased risk covid zones, there's talk that Nottingham, just down the road, having been put in Tier 2 this week will be going up to Tier 3 soon.

 As an antidote of sorts to all this worry and gloom I'm thinking of going back to my 'what did I get up to this week' posts, with an emphasis on the small pleasures in life -  cooking, crafting and art, and above all getting out whenever possible and enjoying autumn.

I've already set myself a number of 'winter resolutions' as I think this year they're needed more now, when the days are getting shorter and darker, than they may be in January when spring can feel just around the corner, and I'm hoping they will keep me focused and occupied in the months ahead.

This week has been a bit up and down, and it's impossible to ignore the sadder moments.

On Tuesday I watched a livestream gig and I was reminded of how many times I must have casually said 'see you next time you're up here' to performers, expecting it to have been only a month or two away, not next spring. It's in such odd moments that the enormity of this year strikes home. How self-employed people in the arts are surviving I don't know. The government of course is advising them to retrain (not a particularly helpful suggestion!). I did the questionnaire and my suggested new occupation is 'quarry engineer'. This sounds quite fun - I get to blow things up (cue Michael Caine 'you're only supposed to blow the bloody doors off'), play with diggers, and maybe discover dinosaur fossils. For me though, it's a bit of fun; for anyone affected, it isn't.

The next day I went 'home' to change the flowers in my parents' memorial vase at the church. In part because it would have been their wedding anniversary this week, but also because replacing the real flowers with artificial will keep it looking relatively tidy throughout winter - and as the village is in Nottinghamshire I don't want to visit too often. Going there is always a sad occasion, yet part of me is relieved that my parents weren't still alive to be caught up in the chaos of coronavirus.

On the other hand, the boring supermarket 'collect' trip was made glorious by sunshine and autumnal leaves. 

Thursday was our 'day out' day, or more accurately afternoon. Making an effort to go out walking once a week at National Trust properties or similar has proved really useful, in terms of a change of scene and in getting fitter. This week we went to Calke, to the garden to see the pumpkin display, and then around the park. I clocked 10,000 steps on my fitbit, and rewarded myself by eating reheated chips from the previous day's takeaway dinner.

It's a busy harvesting time of year in the garden and at the allotment.  There's an ongoing balancing act dealing with produce, sorting, storing, cooking anything that won't keep. Pumpkins sit on the kitchen windowsill, apples fill baskets in the porch, tomatoes wait to fully ripen before freezing. Dinners as always revolve around what needs to be eaten, so this week that was apples - with bacon chops, with custard and oaty biscuits, with porridge - and kale - in any way you can imagine; chilli, pasta sauce, added to stews, roasted.

The large chest freezer in the garage is now so full that something has to be taken out and eaten before anything else can be added! It's good in a way (and settles any fears I have over food shortages due to Covid and Brexit) but troublesome when runner beans and cabbages are being picked quicker than we're eating them. Partially to help cope with this abundance,  I've decided to add another winter resolution to my list - to cook something new from a proper cookbook once a week, rather than stick to the same old trusted meals week in, week out.

I prefer watching box sets to live TV, so I end up running through a series much quicker than the tv channel does. Fortunately the BBC have caught up with me, and Season 3 of The Bridge has turned up on I-player. I've seen this before but like so many things my husband hadn't. We got through it in about four nights though, so I need to find something else to watch. 

The week ended on a curious note. First the fun bit. My youngest daughter and her bubble partner came down on Saturday, and we had a great time. It's ages since I saw her, but the minute she's here that's forgotten and it's as if I saw her only last week. Sunday though was a weird day. I felt rather like a child who's had too much fun on their birthday or at Christmas, and doesn't know how to settle back to their 'everyday' routine. Fortunately in the evening we found something fab to watch - Armando Iannucci's The Personal History of David Copperfield with Dev Patel in the title role; just the kind of fun, engrossing viewing I needed.

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.