New beginnings

Each day brings the promise of renewed hope. This Christmas hearts will be broken, our faith in others challenged and it will seem that nothing will ever be the same again. The sun always rises and sets, a reminder to ourselves that everything passes good or bad.

Photo copyright SvD.

The Secret Language of Trees.

 

 

 

 

 

I have written before on this blog about the secret language of trees which exists in their bark. We can tell their age, their health and the species of tree by looking at the bark. What captivates me is the pattern that defines the tree's personality. As an artist, I see a weave for a carpet here or brushstrokes of oil paint on a canvas. Imagination. It's the one thing you either have or refuse to cultivate. Let your mind roam and think about something else besides the hum drum of life. Go for a walk in the woods and look at the trees.

Photo copyright SvD.

Food to heal

Tomorrow will be three weeks exactly since I got the winter bug: sore throat, lethargy, coughing. Oh joy! Antibiotics which I last took more than 20 years ago have helped clear the chest infection and food has also made a huge difference. I dragged myself to work though which set me back quite a bit hence coughing and spluttering still. I should add that the love of a good man has been wonderful too.

This recipe, reminiscent of my childhood which my late mother made often, has the right balance of peppery kick to clear the lungs. Groundnut stew, chicken simmered in a thick peanut sauce over boiled rice went down a treat and it takes less than an hour.

Photo copyright SvD.

The Beauty of the Human Condition.

Photo copyright SvD.

My salad days.

When I was a university student in Bordeaux in the 80s, I lived off three things more or less: shop-bought Moussaka which I shared with my neighbour, Yves, washed down with bottles of beer and followed by numerous Camel cigarettes. The other favourite was Carbonara from the local Italian restaurant where the owner would start ladling extra sauce onto the spaghetti as I walked through the door. For the princely sum of 26 francs, I could eat a huge bowl of Carbonara laden with crispy lardons, a green salad and half a carafe of red wine. The owner was very generous  and ensured that my Carbonara was swimming in the egg sauce although it has remained a mystery to me how a large vat of the sauce was forever simmering in the background. Aficionados will know that the Carbonara sauce is raw egg with perhaps cream and a grating of nutmeg, amalgamated over a bain marie or cooked by the freshly boiled hot pasta.

 

The third dish that I adored and have never, ever found again was in the local crêperie where for 20 francs I could eat two large crêpes wrapped over patties of minced beef topped with creamy spinach. The dish used to be a complete delight to eat and was so nourishing. To this day, if I am tired, I always have a bloody steak and spinach.

 

Of course when I returned to Bordeaux last year after thirty years, none of those establishments was still standing. Life goes on but my memories will always keep me company.

 

My homemade Carbonara.
Photo copyright SvD.

Happiness is...

...sharing your dreams together.

Photo copyright SvD.

Walk your blues away.

My favourite way to clear my head is to walk. Now, who would argue that not only does this view inspire but it relaxes too. Win, win all round and free!

Walk it off in Beautiful Britain!

Severn Trent Draycote Water, Rugby,Warwickshire. Photo copyright SvD.

Throw away your cookbooks...

Good food that nourishes is not entertainment. They say in Hollywood that there are only seven stories but the interpretation of each is different. Cue to The Star Is Born, a perfect example of the same story told a different way. Cooking is no different. Forget celebrity chefs who are retelling a story you could discover yourself. This recipe is from my love who likes fish and wants easy peasy preparation which still allows for the ingredients and flavours to shine through. Fish with kale,  onions and garlic, roasted in an open dish in a very hot oven. Really delicious and easy. Salt, pepper, olive oil and the fish of your choice. Simples.

Photos copyright SvD.

Have a boule....

....I've  written before about my dislike of supermarket bread which is why I make bread once a week. A boule lasts me 6-7 days. Ok, so this takes a couple of hours from start to finish but it's worth knowing what you're eating, isn't it? I think so.

Photo copyright SvD.

Beautiful Britain

Photo copyright SvD.

What a shame that we Brits constantly complain about the weather as if it's a curse. Every twenty years or so we get an outstanding Summer where the vegetables actually mature rather than rot and the tomatoes go red in the fields. This year's Summer was glorious and the Autumn has not been too shabby either. I spend my weekends driving around the countryside, stopping at pubs with my love and our two dogs. We've hardly had to seek out the roaring fire indoors except once and usually will sit outside or finish our lagers and head off with the hounds for a casual stroll along the canals. Have you caught the clue as to where this photo could be? It's not on the Continent that's for sure. Britain is a beautiful, magical place to get to know- ancient churches, moody weather that lends itself to strong ale and introspection. And to the millennials in London, a place that is foreign to the calm and charm of the countryside, I say this- there's more to life than the Big Smoke. Explore and fall in love with our green and pleasant land. You might actually learn to be proud to be British.

Everything passes....even Time.

 This morning the sun rose and so it will every day. Time, the great healer, waits for no one.

 Photos copyright SvD.

Misty Autumn morning.

The sun rises this morning over fields covered in a magical mist. I think I spied Sir Lancelot.

The hound and I enjoyed every minute of our morning meditation saunter and with such gratitude!

Photos copyright SvD.

How to be happy...

Stop in your tracks and take in the view.

Photo copyright  SvD.

Hake with peas.

Another day in the office and rushing around non stop. My supper tonight was hake with peas and eaten straight from the pan. Took 15 minutes and was so easy peasy. Excuse the pun. Everyone can cook!

Photo copyright SvD.

'I wish you enough,' said the elderly mother to her daughter as they said goodbye.

I came upon this moving story on the net. I am not the author and how poignant is it!

Photo copyright SvD.

I WISH YOU ENOUGH

Recently, I overheard a mother and daughter in their last moments together at the airport as the daughter's departure had been announced. Sta...nding near the security gate, they hugged and the mother said:

"I love you and I wish you enough."

The daughter replied, "Mom, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Mom." They kissed and the daughter left.

The mother walked over to the window where I sat. Standing there, I could see she wanted and needed to cry.

I tried not to intrude on her privacy but she welcomed me in by asking, "Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?"

"Yes, I have," I replied. "Forgive me for asking but why is this a forever good-bye?"

"I am old and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is the next trip back will be for my funeral," she said.

When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, "I wish you enough." May I ask what that means?"

She began to smile. "That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone." She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail and she smiled even more.

"When we said 'I wish you enough' we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them". Then turning toward me, she shared the following, reciting it from memory:

"I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye."

She then began to cry and walked away.

They say it takes a minute to find a special person. An hour to appreciate them. A day to love them. And an entire life to forget them.
 

Cast your troubles away.

Where I live in the glorious English countryside, the local farmer has been preparing the field where he kept sheep all Winter for ploughing. Life goes on. The sun rises and sets. So cast your worries to the wind because tomorrow is inevitable just like the sun.

Tonight on my walk. Photo copyright SvD.

Take your chances...

The farmer has replanted wheat (I presume) in the field he recently harvested. These seagulls followed the tractor as it disgorged seeds and gobbled up as much as they could, pure highway robbery but they succeeded! Take your chances while you can because life and time wait for no one. PS That doesn't mean steal. The farmer provides extra seed just for the birds but that is his choice.

Photo copyright SvD.

And can you help?

I came across this carcass in the field on Sunday morning. I cannot identify it from my various bird books. The down on its chest was thick and luxurious. The marking seems quite distinctive. The carcass measured around a foot long without the head which clearly is not there. Many thanks!

The RSPB has helpfully responded to identify the bird: https://www.rspb.org.uk/birds-and-wildlife/wildlife-guides/bird-a-z/lesser-black-backed-gull

Photo copyright SvD.

Ripeness is all.

Folklore tells us that Summer ends as the elderberries ripen. Indeed, the nights are cooler and the morning dew has returned. The damp underfoot on my morning walks is a true indicator that Autumn is here.

Early Autumn is a time of plenty, ripened fruits must be picked now before the damp and cold wind rot them. I used to be a serious jam and chutney maker converting the spoils of my gardening addiction. For those of you who do make your own preserves, remember to pick fruit on a dry day, early in the morning and away from busy roads.

Now is also a good time to collect wild herbs to make herb liqueur (collect the leaves of whatever you can find, except the poisonous ones obviously, soak them in a ceramic pot with pure alcohol. Strain after a few weeks, add sugar and store in corked bottles). Very good for digestion.

Ripe elderberries this morning. Photo copyright SvD.

Ripening grapes 'au naturel' and not in a greenhouse! Unheard of twenty years ago- the British Isles are getting warmer.

Photo taken last Sunday. Photo copyright SvD.

Filled in badger set, photo taken last Saturday. Photo copyright SvD.

And on a sadder note, Autumn is a time of culling unwanted animals before their breeding season begins in the Spring. This badger set has been filled in by the farmer after he extracted its inhabitants and disposed of them. This matter causes me a lot of sadness but I live next to a farm and it is not illegal to kill badgers neither is it my place to give the farmer a hard time as he permits me to roam all over his land.

The badgers I mentioned in my earlier posts are no more unfortunately.

At this time of the year we see the provocative ripeness in nature which also signifies an ending- the bejewelled fruits have reached their maturity, their end. And then there is the sad tale of the badgers whose end had nothing natural about it.

Slugs in love...

Two slugs locked in love's embrace and forming a perfect circle, symbol of infinity.

This morning on my walk. Photo copyright SvD.

Memento mori.

My wonderful friend, Gwen, died today and I shall miss her terribly. Over more than twenty years, we laughed riotously, drank a lot of wine, ate a lot of good food and consumed vast quantities of whisky, cognac and anything 40% proof after dozens of suppers shared as we put the world right.

There is an expression that one will die peacefully if one has lived a good life. Gwen did exactly that surrounded by those who loved her.

Farewell, witty, sarcastic, beautiful and special Gwen. I shall never forget you.

Hedgerow Sparrow last Saturday morning flew into my glass door. I put him in the greenhouse to wake up but he never did. Photo copyright SvD.

Food is fuel......yee ha!

I walked four miles today and I was in the office from 9 to 5.30. There are some days when cooking makes me cringe but if it's so easy I could do it with my eyes closed, I might be tempted. This recipe is inspired by the great outdoors and cowboy films. You fry your bacon, you add your beans. Simple. Now let's watch that sunset together.

Cowboy Beans (with cherry tomatoes for colour). Photo copyright SvD.

Spaetzles to Heaven

I'm not German neither am I an expert on German cuisine but my love of spaetzles came to me from my ex-husband whose first wife was German. Spaetzles are a type of quick noodle made with flour, nutmeg and eggs. I use a flat cheese grater to pour the batter into simmering unsalted water- all Germans are politely asked to forgive me for improvising with a cheese grater. Once cooked, the spaetzles are tossed in bacon fat, butter and sauerkraut and topped with crispy lardons and breadcrumbs. Delicious! My supper tonight. I will walk off all this scrumptious fat when I trot my usual 40-50kms per week.

Photo copyright SvD.

How to Live.

When I see people buying ready-made meals in the supermarket I want to scream. Cooking is easy and if you want to stay healthy, learning to cook is an absolute necessity.

I work full time and I cook every day. Why? Because I love the ritual involved plus I need to know what I am eating. I make my own bread because I loathe supermarket bread. The way I live is not extraordinary, it's how I grew up.

Tonight I was inspired to make apple sauce from the orchard outside my kitchen window (the dry summer has forced the apples to ripen months early). And pork and apples are a match made in Heaven. This meal took less than an hour from shelling the broad beans to making the apple sauce.

Broad beans in a parsley sauce, pork chop with a homemade apple sauce.

Photos copyright SvD.

Althorp and the mystery of Diana's resting place.

Althorp, the Spencer family home, makes for an interesting day out. I recently visited but I doubt very much that Diana is buried on the island on the lake. Why? The lake is some distance away from the house and it seems a cold and lonely place to be buried.

I'm more inclined to believe the local rumour that Diana is buried in the family vault in the nearby St Mary The Virgin church at Great Brington. Her father is buried there as well and it would make perfect sense for Diana to be with her dad. I have no proof, of course. I can only say what I feel.

The Spencer crypt below:

The crypt is behind  these blue railings which are fitted with an alarm.

The spot (near the window) inside the Spencer crypt where I believe Diana is buried.

The crypt to the left in this photo.

Althorp.
If I'm right, Princes William and Harry are aware of where their mum is. And that in itself is very telling.
Photos copyright SvD.

Huge skies, endless vistas.

In screenwriting they call it POV when the audience sees something from a specific angle. This shot is perhaps more reminiscent of a cowboy on horseback but it is, in fact, on my daily walk. Tonight as I took this shot, I could swear I saw a face in the clouds. An anguished face looking backwards.

Photo copyright SvD.

Now that the wheat has been harvested....

Mr Badger has lost his secret passage to the water trough in the calves' field.
El geriatric dogo feels very small next to the hay. (For townies: after wheat is harvested, the remaining stalks are rolled into bales of hay for animal fodder in the Winter.) In memorium.

Photos copyright SvD.

Forget Summer...

In 23 years I have never seen apples ripen in Summer but our recent drought has forced the fruit to mature too quickly. Apples traditionally ripen in the Autumn when they are picked and stored over Winter. The sun-drenched immature fruit is ripening then falling off the tree from lack of water. A long dry Summer will mean little stores in Winter.

Once again nature has a lesson for us: what we do today has an impact on tomorrow.

Photo copyright SvD.

Midweek supper...

Food to me is about nourishing my body. I work hard and I'm getting older so anything processed is out. I cook every day and eat supper at a dining table with lighted candles. This clears my head from the office dramas and allows me to appreciate my meal and to give thanks. As one gets older, a simple, peaceful life is a type of paradise. After supper I might go for a short walk and if I see a badger or deer that will be a perfect end to my day. Be yourself. Be happy with whatever is your lot. Shut out the noise around you. Peace.

Photo copyright SvD.

Cumberland sausage and kidney bean stew with roasted bell peppers.

Lucky? Happy? Happy. Lucky.

On my 6.30am walk today, the hound and I came upon a mortally wounded pigeon, its left wing ripped off by a dog. Shame on the dog owner to have a stupid animal and to leave the pigeon to die an agonising death. By the time the hound and I arrived on the scene, the pigeon was conscious but unable to move other than to drag itself on the stomach, a gaping wound where its wing used to be. Another dog walker appeared with his pug, Monty, and we decided to ring the pigeon's neck. I would hold the bird and Monty's dad would do the deed. We debated clubbing the pigeon to death with a stone and went in search of a large enough one. As we discussed the execution, along came a cat who grabbed the dying pigeon from right under our noses before you could say 'poor pigeon, this is making us late for work'. Both dogs, avid cat haters, didn't have a chance to do the whole barking, growling, we-detest-cats thing and looked genuinely startled to have been 'outcatted'.

The moral therefore is for you to decide. Was the pigeon lucky or unlucky? Unlucky to be attacked. Lucky for two 'saviours' to show up to end his misery? Or was the cat the luckiest and possibly the happiest of all? You choose.

Photo copyright SvD.

You Humans Are Very Strange....

This morning. Photos copyright SvD.

This sheep looks at the hound and I with utter disdain as we walk past every day. I love the black patch which adds to that look of utter antipathy.

The local vicar who is a frequent walking partner dislikes sheep and often remarks that they are 'born to die'. That's usually when I remind the vicar that faith is about peace and love...

Setting Sun.

Nature teaches us about how irrelevant we are in the grand scheme of things. The sun rises and sets in spite of us. Think about that.

Tonight on my walk:

  Photo copyright SvD.