Saturday, 23 March 2013

Silence in the garden

There is certainly silence in my garden because the weather is so disgusting that I'm unable to get outside to get anything done. Late March and not a thing planted! I've been skulking about inside reading books and doing far too much baking. Some of the books have been on an Irish theme, first this William Trevor which led me to re-visit Elizabeth Bowen. I love the subtlety of her work.  These two books describe a pace of life far slower than today, they have certain similarities and pin down emotions beautifully.
Tomorrow our book group meets for Sunday lunch to discuss a 21st Century Irish novel, 'The Forgotten Waltz' by Ann Enright. I'm expecting a very lively discussion! If you've read it then I would love to know what you thought of it.
I'm taking a treacle tart to contribute towards lunch
and made some macaroons with the pastry that was left over.
Both recipes come from my very old Bero booklet.
You'll get an idea just how old it is by looking at the cover photo!
You've heard the saying, 'A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips'!

Friday, 15 March 2013

Rhubarb, rhubarb

Yesterday we woke to welcome sunshine and a frost - no snow, no bitter wind. We were able to walk out into the garden and take a look around. The storms of the previous days had succeeded in lifting the lead flashing on the roof so we erected the scaffolding tower to carry out repairs. The tower is one of the most useful things that we have ever bought. It was purchased after Himself had fallen off a ladder. I do the second in command routine of standing below and passing things up and down. I'm also prone to the useless and possibly annoying refrain of, "for goodness sake be careful."
I took a look into the forcing pot to see how the rhubarb was coming along.

Excellent, enough to make a pudding.
Forced rhubarb, in the foreground, is more succulent than when it is grown in the open ground.
This orange and rhubarb meringue recipe is a favourite.

We ate some warm from the oven, but you should really wait until it is cold and the orange sauce has set.

The garden flowers have taken a hammering in the excessive cold.
My 'St Patrick's Day' daffodils are usually in flower on their name day but there will be no chance this year.
We walked into the woods this morning before the rain set in.
We hadn't been down to the little pond for ages as the woodland tracks have been a quagmire. In our absence the whole area has been cleared, steps made and new trees planted. It looks very bare and ugly at the moment, in what has always been a rather magical spot, but I'm sure that nature will soon reclaim it and soften everything down.

Monday, 11 March 2013

Mothering Sunday

The flower shops were busy this weekend. I saw this little Patterdale terrier waiting very patiently outside whilst his owner was inside the shop choosing a bouquet. He and his small daughter came out, with a lovely arrangement of flowers, and introduced me to Nero, ten years old and cute as a button!
There were charming small arrangements at pocket money prices.
What a nice idea.
 I went to another seed swap where I changed my shoo fly (thank you Rosemary, for your info!) and packets of my copious supplies of coriander and white foxglove seed for this tempting selection of vegetables and flowers.
Now I just need some decent weather so that I can get to work sowing seed and planting!