Jam jam jam

The theme of this week in the WithaY household (other than work, sleep, work, sleep, deal with domestic stuff, sleep, work) has been jam.

Plum jam, to be specific.  We don't have a plum tree in the garden, although there are plans afoot to do some clever planting and espaliering (sp?) in the future.  However, Father-in-law WithaY has a tree in his garden, so when we called round to the house at the weekend on the way home, we decided to pick a few plums.

I think we ended up with about 40 pounds of fruit.  So, we ate some, we put some in a bowl to take to Father-in-law WithaY at the nursing home, and we looked at the remaining 38.5 pounds of plums.  What to do, what to do?

Jam.

Obviously.

We got everything ready...sugar, plums, water, recipe book, jamjars....perfect.

Please note, that little bowl of plums is the one we took to Father-in-law WithaY, not the one we used for the jam. 

We cut the plums in half, took the stones out and boiled the bejeezus out of them for a bit. 

Then we added the sugar and boiled them a bit more.  There was a degree of confusion about the correct amount of sugar.  We had to multiply the recipe by 3.  Or was it 4?  Anyway, there was a rapid and irreversible escalation of confusion which ended with me being sent out of the kitchen in disgrace to think about what I'd done. 

Mr WithaY continued with the jam making alone. 

Anyhoo, some time later, we had jam.

Lots and lots and lots of jam.  If I wasn't still on my weight loss regime (stone and a half so far, slow and steady, thanks for asking) I'd be scarfing down hot buttered toast with home-made plum jam like a machine.  A MACHINE.

We still have quite a lot of plums left.  Suggestions on a postcard.

Rain

The rain today has been torrential and scary. In about 30 minutes at lunchtime we saw the garden develop several new water features. At one point I thought the shed might be flooded.



Check out all the apples on the tree. With any luck we'll be able to harvest a fair few later in the year.

In case you are wondering, the cage in the corner is not for Mr WithaY. Our dog used to stay there when we were out. He hated it.



Other news: My jam making went well. ALthough I think I may have made a couple of pounds of strawberry toffee as well as jam. Tastes nice though.

A night at the Races

So, guess what I have been doing? Apart from watching Mr WithaY glaring at the mole tussocks, I mean.

Here's a clue: I lost some money and got very cold.



Yes! We had a night at the races! It was an interesting experience. Salisbury racecourse, an evening meeting. We took a minibus from the pub, arrived at the course and cracked open the Champagne. Mr WithaY managed to hit someone's car with a Champagne cork just as they were getting out of it, which was impressive. Luckily they either didn't notice or decided not to come over and tell us all off.

Salisbury racecourse must be unique, in that you can't actually see any of the race apart from about the last 15 seconds.

They have rectified this by putting up a huge screen so you can watch it on TV. While you stand in the rain.



And that bit of the track is obscured by the many hundreds of bookies, who take your money and then laugh as your horse (whichever one you pick, even if six of you all pick different ones, which is odd) comes in last.



We bet at the Tote. We lost. We bet on course. We lost.

We tried pretending we knew about the form, the history of each horse, where it had travelled from, the state of the track, the Jockeys' personal preferences, anything. We still lost. Here is a picture of us all pretending we know anything about racing.



Here is a picture, an exciting action shot, of the race. My horse is far away, off the right hand edge of the photo, sauntering down the final furlong, probably texting his mates and checking his iPod. Bastard.



I bet on one horse, the bloody thing actually fell over in the paddock before it even got to the start of the race. To be fair, it eventually came in second and I won £7.50 but as I had put down a tenner I was still out of pocket. How does that work? Even one of our smart maths teacher mates had to have Odds explained to her by the bookie.



It rained a bit. But there was a Queen tribute band. It was truly bizarre.



Other news: Been to see Mr WithaY's dad in hospital, and he is a bit more comfortable, so that's encouraging.

Went on to Salisbury. Did did some shopping and bought a few DVDs*, had a very, very late lunch in Wagamama's, somewhere I have not been before, and ate soup with noodles in and chicken dumplings.

Ooh yes. I bought a huge stack of bargain strawberries in Salisbury market, just as it was closing and am going to make jam tomorrow. Never made stawberry jam before. I might have to join the WI if it turns out ok.


*Tonight we have mostly been watching Blades of Glory, which was entertaining.