Birthday Puzzles

So I received two new jigsaw puzzles for my birthday and have managed now to complete them both. 

They were both ones that I had asked for and the first one puts me forcibly in mind of a comment made about me by my Russian teacher to my parents at the fifth form parents evening; to wit 'even her pleasures seem very serious'. Since this was in reference to my liking for classical music I didn't see at the time, and still don't to be honest, what business it was of his, nor am I the only 15 year old in the world ever to have liked Sibelius, so it seems a strange thing to have said. But possibly even now my pleasures are 'too serious', to judge from my choice of this

Belle Epoque Paris, peopled with such luminaries as Oscar Wilde, Baron Haussman, Guy de Maupassant, Sarah Bernhardt,and of course several Impressionist artists. I have to say that it was a bit of a challenge to do, as all the buildings are illustrated in a very impressionistic style, meaning that many many pieces were neutrally coloured with nothing on them but brown or grey smudges. But it was enjoyable and I can see me doing it again 'one day'. 

Ditto to the doing again for the second one 

which I assume  is much less 'serious' in Russian teacher terms.It is however a prime example of why I never start doing jigsaw puzzles with the edge.I mentioned this in an FB group recently and many other puzzle fans were amazed, but really, look at that edge.Apart from a few protruding flowers, where on earth would you start?

Just to remind myself, should I be looking back at this in times to come, I have this week had a good sort out of my jigsaw puzzles. I'm giving myself a bronze star. The sort out is not (at all) the same thing as a cull. But I have re-organised the places in which they are kept, and noted several which belong to the 'do once more and donate to the library' group. I also noted with some surprise that I have several puzzles that I have never even opened, so perhaps I should concentrate on those once I've completed the 'once more and then they go' pile. 

I am now signing off for just over a week while the OH and I head south to the Glorious Kingdom of Fife to celebrate forty years of wedded bliss. As I have said to several people, a week's self catering near Kirkcaldy is  not the luxury train trip across Australia which  we had planned, but it's a nod in the direction of marking the occasion. 

Loki

No not a disquisition on the Norse God, or indeed on the character portrayed by Tom Hiddlestone in the Avengers movies (although it may raise a smile on the face of some readers to record the plaintive question posed by my younger son recently  'Mum, what is it with women and Loki?'. What indeed? I had to say that I didn't know but Loki was just, well, preferable to Thor is so many ways that possibly I couldn't put into words)

..................

And dragging ourselves back to the question of which Loki I am talking about if it isn't either of those two, it is this one*

. 

Gorgeous, eh? He's a snowy owl at the Suffolk Owl Sanctuary and in line with my policy of giving to animal charities in 2020 we have sponsored him for a year . Because he's an owl, an everyone loves owls, don't they? Apart from mice, voles and other small rodents of course. It seems unlikely we will get to visit the SOS and see him in person for quite some time, but maybe next year. 

*obviously this is not a personally taken photo of him but their photo  sent in the adoption pack. My photography skills are not at that level!

100 Books to Read Poster Number 16

As you see it was The Enchanted Wood by Enid Blyton.

Luckily the addition of Borrowbox to my local library service saved me from having either the expense of buying it, or the embarrassment of taking it out of the library in person, as it is a book for very small children. It came as an audio book, read by Kate Winslet, who seems to be a bit of a go-to person for children's audio books. The fact that it was in audio format did at least mean that I could do something useful while listening to it. It still seemed awfully long.

I'd never read this book, which I think is also sometimes called The Faraway Tree, and I am astonished at how often it pops up on this kind of list. My mother disapproved strongly of Enid Blyton, although I am not quite sure why (she was not of the generation that would have objected to the gollywogs for example) so possibly she was, as a teacher, just following the lead of those librarians who deplored Blyton's limited vocabulary and formulaic storytelling. I gather her work was also banned from the BBC for decades as being 'second rate'.   

This does not mean that I suffered a Blyton-less childhood. I borrowed some of her books from friends, had some passed on to me from other people and occasionally was bought one by relatives other than my mother as a birthday or Christmas present. All this stuff about banning and the general disapproval is all  a bit reminiscent of a lot of the more recent fuss around the Harry Potter books, and makes me reflect how odd it is that cultural commentators who deplore any particular children;s author in such terms, seem to forget hat children do grow up and heir reading tastes generally grow up with them. Whatever the fears  in the 1960s the country was not plagued with a generation of adults who were still considering Five go to Smugglers Cove as the apogee of thriller writing in the 1970s and 80s. To me, it just all smacks a bit too much of snobbery and oneupmanship.

Anyway to revert to the actual book, all I can say is it's not for grown ups but if I had read it as a child I would have loved it, if only for the central concept of the ever changing destination at the top of the tree. So a miss for me now, but a hit for me then.

I note with some relief that having been very careful and gentle with the coin wielding, the picture for this book emerged unscathed and recognisable from behind its silver cover. 

Anniversary Flowers

In a week's time we shall have been married for forty years. It seems almost impossible that it's been that long. I would say it hasn't felt that long, but then how long does forty years feel?

If things had been normal we would have been flying to Oz about now to spend a few days with my cousin  in Perth before boarding the Indian-Pacific for a train trip across the width of Australia. Well, it wasn't to be. I hope we will manage to do this another year; after all Australia isn't gong anywhere in the meantime. 

We are off next Saturday for a week in the Glorious Kingdom of Fife which, while not exactly a luxury train trip across Australia, is at least doing something to mark the occasion. Because we'll be away on the actual day my sister sent a h-u-g-e bouquet this week. It smells glorious and I've put it on the table in the sunroom, where I am spending a lot of my time these days. It gives me something nice to look at while I knit, rather than l the hugely guilt inducing view of TWWCTG. 

Jug Jug Jug (the most unlikely T S Eliot quote ever)

but I am in fact  talking about an actual jug - to whit, this one:-

Isn't that lovely? I mean, probably only if you have a bit of a thing for jugs, but if you do, isn't it? 

Many years ago when we used to come on holiday to Orkney there was a local ceramicist called Ellie Pearson. She produced lovely work but it was a tad on the expensive side for a youngish couple with a mortgage and two children, and although we promised ourselves each time that we would  buy a piece of her work 'next year' somehow we never did. And then we came one year and she had retired so we had missed our chance. 

On a similar note we have long loved the things that come from the Westray Pottery. We have even bought things from there for other people, and  we promised ourselves that 'one day' we would buy a piece for ourselves. And lo! it came to pass that 'one day' was in fact yesterday. Spurred on by the news in an e-mail from the local craft co-op that the Westray Potter had retired we trotted off down to their shop in The Hope and bought a jug of his before they sold all their remaining stock and we missed our chance again.  It wasn't the OH's favourite, but it was mine. And for once I prevailed. 

Baking Subscription August

This was Pear and Frangipane Tart. It was delicious.

I have to admit to rebelling when I saw the instructions for the pastry making since they began with freezing the butter and then grating it. That all seemed like far too much faff when the end product was going to be bog standard shortcrust pastry so I lobbed the butter and the flour and salt into the food processor with two tablespoons of cold water and it was fine. I learned long ago that the food processor is w-a-y better at producing pastry than I am.

The lattice is a bit rough round the edges. I put too much pastry into the case and left too little  for the lattice strips and looking at the photo now I can also see a mistake! but at least I showed willing. I egg washed the top, although why they tell you to do that when you drown the top in icing sugar (and I only used half the amount provided) I can't imagine.

I was pleased with it though and expect I'll make it again. I keep an album of photos for these bakes on Facebook and was rather surprised to find that this one garnered more reaction than almost any other one I have ever done. 

Beginning the Harvest

I think I have told the story here before about how the experts at the local gardening club told us we would 'never grow raspberries on Burray'. Generally we grow more raspberries than we know what to do with, so some years a packed freezer means a treat for the local bird population. 

This year though we will be picking for ourselves and here's the first crop. There were still loads on the  canes needing to ripen when we got these on Sunday so we'll be venturing to the raspberry plants again tomorrow if the sun is shining. Or if it just isn't raining.