Ear slugs

It seems as though winter has remembered what it's supposed to be doing, and we have had a much colder couple of days over the weekend.  Heavy frost, even.  Alright for me, I was snug at home with an abundant supply of tea, cake and duvets.  Mr WithaY, on the other hand, was living in the woods for a week, sleeping in a hand-made bender for at least one night.

Not, as I hoped, a wooden facsimile of the wise-cracking Futurama star, but a rude shelter crafted from sticks and tarpaulins.  Apparently it was "bloody cold" and a slug fell in his ear.  He said he removed it "immediately" which was a relief.

Ah, life in the wild.  I'm glad I'm only BY the woods, and not actually attempting to live in them.

Ah, slugs.

Years ago, when I was living in my teeny little student house in Winchester, Mr WithaY used to come and visit at weekends.  One night, one chilly damp night, I asked him to fetch me a glass of water from the kitchen.  The kitchen was downstairs, and it got visited by slugs.  I had stuffed all the cracks and ingress holes I could find with paper to try and keep them out.  I had put salt on the floor to stop them coming in. I had even, on the advice of a probably mental friend, put garlic on the floor to offend the slimy bastards.

Nothing worked, and most mornings I came downstairs to find slug trails all over the place...on the floor, up the walls, on the windows...it was revolting.

This particular night, Mr WithaY scampered downstairs to fetch the glass of water (he was young and in love, so was eager to please) and I heard an anguished cry of "Oh God NOOOOOOOO!"

I knew exactly what he'd trodden on with his bare feet.

I've been busy while he's been away, which has been very pleasant.  I hadn't realised quite how easy it could be to become isolated when you don't go out to work, and a few days of bad weather can make it very miserable.  Luckily for me, there are some fab people living in the village who don't mind me popping in to drink their tea and eat their biscuits every now and again.

Apart from socialising, I have been sewing.  And knitting.  And baking.  I made a chocolate cake as I had a mate coming over for tea one day, and it worked rather excellently, though I say so myself.  It's a cake with no flour in it, so it is potentially very mousse-y if you undercook it, but even if you do that, it's lovely.  It's made with dark chocolate and butter melted together, and sugar, eggs and vanilla, whisked up till it's huge and fluffy, all mixed together, then baked in the oven.  Nom nom nom.

I might make some more this week.

I've also been pruning things in the garden.  Roses, the crabapple tree and the flowering trees at the side of house  have all been chopped up tidily to within an inch of their lives.  Hopefully they'll all revive in time for the Spring.  We've already got a crocus in flower in the lawn, which is ridiculously early, and the snowdrops in sheltered corners are in flower.

Business developments are creeping along, but I'd rather we get everything sorted out now than discover in 3 months time that we didn't make the right decision, and have to start again.

Elementary

August. Gah. It's dark, windy, rainy and bloody freezing this weekend.

This Bank Holiday Weekend.

Yes, a long weekend, traditionally used for enjoying the last few parties, beach trips and barbecues of summer.

However, we lit the fire in the sitting room yesterday, it was so bloody miserable. A few weeks back I had a bit of a buying frenzy on Amazon, treating myself to some boxed sets of DVDs. I think I was subconsciously pining for the long Saturday afternoons of childhood, and bought the filmic equivalent of comfort food.

I bought:

1) The complete boxed set of Johnny Weissmuller Tarzan films,

2) The complete set of Basil Rathbone Sherlock Holmes films,

3) A boxed set of Errol Flynn films, including The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex. That's a surprisingly long film, isn't it? Mr WithaY gave up after an hour and went to the pub; I stayed till the bitter end and then rather wished I hadn't. Not exactly a feel-good film, but the costumes were lovely. And Bette Davis was brilliant.

We've been watching the Sherlock Holmes films. Marvellous. I love Nigel Bruce as Dr Watson. He's a complete buffoon, blundering about with a look of painful incomprehension on his face, asking stupid, stupid questions about the most obvious things, whipping out his service revolver at the slightest pretext to blast bullets up and down the streets of London, then every now and again solving complex pictographic codes at the drop of a hat with no apparent difficulty. Superb.

Other news: Today we have been making cake. Not just any old cake though. Mr WithaY has made the Official Christmas Cake. It weighs about 8 pounds*, and smells wonderful. He plans to keep it in his study ("where it's close at hand") and feed it with brandy for the next four months.

Sounds like the sort of lifestyle I could enjoy myself, never mind the cake.

I took photos at all stages of the construction, so once I can get my phone to upload them, I will.

Mr WithaY, who is not a man given to wasting good food, was using up some of the dried fruit and so on that we cleared out from Father-in-Law WithaY's house. Among the scavenged groceries there were a couple of tins of black treacle. More of these later.

He mixed up the ingredients for the cake, cheerfully weighing and sifting and mixing over the course of the afternoon. It became apparent that even the biggest mixing bowl was too small for the mixture, so he went out to the garage, returning in triumph with the huge copper preserving pan. He scrubbed it out, and continued mixing the cake in that.

He is nothing if not resourceful.

Anyhoo, the cake was carefully spooned into the enormous brown paper, string and cake tin construction created earlier, and then decorated lovingly with glace cherries and blanched almonds. The almonds came from Mother-in-Law WithaY's tree in her garden**.

A mere six hours later, it was ready. It is currently sitting on the side in the kitchen, exuding glory.

My contribution was much less prestigious. I made a batch of cupcakes, half with pink, lemon flavour icing and sprinkles, half with brown, coffee flavour icing and walnuts. They were very nice, thanks for asking.

I also made scones, but the least said about them, the better. I ate one, but it wasn't particularly enjoyable.

Our mates who came round for tea (hence the cakes) took one away for their chickens. If I hear a "bwaaaaaaaark...ptooooie!" from their side of the village, I will know it was not appreciated.











*I know people who have had smaller babies.

**But she does live in the South of France.

Mmmmmmmmmpork

Had a very pleasant weekend, with a mate visiting for a few days. So we did a lot of touristy stuff, including having afternoon tea at the Red Lion in Salisbury. Well, it was pissing down with rain, and we were hungry.

We also bought our own weight in pork products from the butcher in Fish Row, which I cooked over the next couple of days, culminating in a traditional Sunday roast. It was all very civilised.

Today I have mostly been doing domestic stuff and eating leftover roast pork.

Back to work tomorrow, which I am looking forward to. Especially as I am staying at Middle Sis' house, which will be great.

And Mr WithaY comes home next weekend, all being well. Yay.

So. Not much news. Sorry.