Snipping and patching

The apple muffins have been munched, the chocolate muffins have been chomped, and the flapjacks are long gone - sometimes it seems like there is nothing to show for a weekend's work when the B&B guests have gone and the permaculture course is over.

But I managed a quick Friday night sewing special, so there is something material to show for all my efforts.

Nifty handle

I have been wanting to make one of Ayumi's patchwork wristlets for a while, and here is my version.

Friday night is sewing night

 Rather a nifty little number, with a wrist strap and key tab, and little pockets inside.

Handy pocket

Needless to say Princess Bunchy has paused in her veterinary endeavours long enough to commission one of her own. Just what she needs when she goes out, being only a handbag collector rather than a wearer.

Back to the sewing machine again, then. Hep, hep!

[And in case any of you are foolish enough to be thinking of things housework, take it from me and don't bother. Especially if you were considering applying housework to a computer in the form of cleaning the keyboard with a slightly (only very slightly) dampened duster. And particularly if you like to use hyphens, square brackets, inverted commas or the enter key, and wish them to carry on working after cleaning. {The jury is out on whether a new keyboard will be necessary.}]

Have a good week, my dears, and take it from me, stick to the sewing: you know it makes sense.

An unfortunate encounter

But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the first time that she has seen the cold light of dawn from an upstairs window for many weeks, and the cold light of dawn is one of her favourite phrases, betokening as it does all sorts of elopements, escapes and adventures.

She has had an adventure herself this week, having been marauded by a cheery dentist, who smiled and smiled but was yet a villain.

His gleaming white teeth were mouthing platitudes as he bent over the chair and as she opened her mouth to reply politely, wham! there was a needle embedded in her jaw, just a little scratch as it scraped the bone and made her teeth creak (he was actually holding it behind his back, would you believe, do they practise this on dental training programmes, the big smile, the pleasant conversation and the quick draw?).

And then what a sight she was (were people laughing and pointing in the street, she didn't dare look).

Would foundation be able to cover that big purple bruise? said Princess Bunchy. (Certainly, it would need stage make-up of a heavy duty sort.)

Your face has sort of dropped down on one side, said her dear sister, helpfully. You look like you have Bell's Palsy. (She tested her facial muscles by raising her eyebrow and essaying a tentative grimace. No, not a palsy or a stroke, one must be thankful for small mercies.)

It's all right, it's not a haematoma, said the dentist when she showed him that she really had turned into a hamster, in spite of what the receptionist had said on the phone. He smiled gleefully and said that perhaps she could wear a large scarf if she needed to go out.

A brown paper bag, more like, she muttered bitterly to herself, except then she would no doubt fall over and add to the effect so ably produced by the man with the sparkly teeth.

There was nothing for it but for her to retire to an armchair by the fire, eat copious quantities of very soft chocolate muffins broken up exceedingly small, and sulk (I think she will thus have a rotund midriff to match the hamster visage, and thus feel even more unable to meet her public face to face).

She would also like to thank all the lovely people who have sent kind emails and enquiries as to her wellbeing, and apologize profusely for her tardiness in replying, her only excuse being that January is the cruellest month and a period of hibernation proved to be the only solution.

February is almost as bad, but at least you don't have to get up in the dark quite so much.

Sew many reasons to be cheerful

[If you were looking for the giveaway, you will find it here.]

No reason to be crabby

I am showing my age when I say that 'Reasons to be Cheerful' by Ian Dury is part of my cultural hinterland, but when I saw the confluence of two bloggy positive thinking initiatives, Planet Penny's Reasons to be Cheerful, and Lily's Quilts Fresh Sewing Day, I felt that it was a good idea to stir my stumps and come up with my own reasons to think positive.

First of all, thank you most kindly to all of you who have enquired about my hand. Yes, it is still there on the end of my arm, and it is still encased in rather revoltingly coloured plastic, which I have embellished with orange and white Sugru (if you would like some, too, they tell me there is a discount code until 19 December, which means you get your fourth pack free - just write YAYCHRISTMAS in the box). But I am quite reconciled to it all really, if a little frustrated when I try to put my coat on, and patience is a virtue, etc.

But I did of course manage to crack in a little bit of sewing before things went awry, and so when Princess Bunchy was working out her Christmas presents I was actually quite pleased to find that we had enough little purses (from the Keyka Lou Pleated Pouch pattern) . . .

. . . and wallets (from the Keyka Lou Basic Wallet pattern) to go round, including one for the £2 Secret Santa (I think whoever gets this gets a good deal!), and moreover, I have a couple left over for emergencies (you know, that feeling you get late on Christmas Eve when you are wrapping the presents and find that you have fewer presents than names on the list [which of course doesn't happen in well-regulated households]).

So in spite of a little hurdle along the way, my sewing for November is something to feel quite cheerful about (all thanks to the discipline of the Christmas Challenge, I am sure).

Quite astonishingly we still have lettuce in the garden, and a few flowers, too, and I can even feel cheerful about the rain, the more the better in fact, or it will be hosepipe bans all round next year.

So Reasons to be Cheerful, one stitchy, two horticultural, and three meteorological - what more could a body want? Apart from tea and cake, that is . . .

All in the bag: heaving out a winner

Twice in the last couple of weeks I have been listening to Radio 4 and heard people I know from university days, who are most definitely on the way to being Eminent (if they are not already) opining in a most grown-up and erudite fashion, the second time this morning when I was standing in the kitchen, enmeshed in domesticity, well wrapped up in a pinny and stirring up some double chocolate muffins.

I think that I am beginning to feel a failure, never having been invited onto Radio 4 and actually not doing too well on the grown-up front (although the very sagacious Angela did call me erudite recently; I am thinking of having a badge made with the label 'Erudite' to make up for my lack of an Important Job, or indeed Eminence).

Bag on a tree

I comforted myself with the thought that I do know how to knit socks (although I am struggling with my Postmodern Socks at the moment, not so much with the theory as the putting the postmodernism into practice), and that yesterday I made a Ruched Happy Bag and a Swatch Book Cover, both to be carried in my recently completed Multi Tasker Tote (made from a pattern by Anna Maria Horner) - fabric Pop Garden flowers in green by Heather Bailey, together with Bijoux Tile in ice blue and red (all from Saints and Pinners).

For Multi-Taskers everywhere

And anyone who has need of a Multi Tasker Tote must of course be multi-tasking, which seems to be a most happening thing to do, although possibly for credibility's sake the Efficient Multi-Tasker should be wearing a suit, and as you will see from the photographs so ably composed and taken by the Head Chef I am failing most sadly on the sartorial front, the recent vertiginous drop in ambient temperatures having necessitated the donning of vest, cardi and mitts (luckily we have B&Bs arriving tomorrow so lighting the fire is allowed (this is why I was making chocolate muffins again, and not of course for me to comfort eat while contemplating the ashes of my career ambitions, oh no)).

How not to stand

I would not dare criticize the Head Chef's competence in fashion photography. I hinted that the photographer must be below the subject for a slimming effect, and thus the suggestion was that I should stand on a very wobbly chair (one of whose ilk has been known to collapse under the weight of an only moderately large course attendee on a former unfortunate occasion).

Note the photographer's careful attention re extraneous objects in background of photo

On viewing the results of the Head Chef's shutter work and being asked to comment, I made the mistake of being honest, and ventured the opinion that the images were Not Up To Scratch at which point I found out that the fault was in the way that I was standing. It was good to clear that one up, and I shall be very careful not to stand in any pictures again.

Loops and pockets - how jolly!

I am happy to say that my jolly new multitasking bag is far more photogenic than Pomona the granny fashionista, the epitome of cardigan grunge chic, and I would ask you to admire the nifty little inside pocket, so artfully divided into sections for pencil and pen (for multitasking mummies always have such things handy for sticky moments in restaurants even when their offspring are way beyond the stage of having any call for such old-fashioned writing implements).

And the contents are even more exciting for one of my limited needleworking skills - I have made another Ruched Happy Bag, from Amy's wonderful pattern (you can see my first Happy Bag here); these are truly happy bags, for they make me most happy to have made such a professional-looking zippy bag.

And I have also made a Swatch Book Cover, from a Keykalou pattern, so that I may always be prepared with notebook to hand in case I have any Deep Thoughts, which I can write down in the hope that one day someone on Radio 4 would like me to expound them so that I, too, can join the pantheon of those who fulfilled their early promise and made their Aged Parents proud.

This is a rather nifty pattern, which works for the two sizes of Moleskine Cahier - it thus makes a good present, for wherever the recipient is located, they are sure to be able to find refills. Not only do Moleskine Cahiers come in large and small, they also come in ruled, plain, and squared, so by choosing the fabrics appropriately I have come to the conclusion that you can make these Swatch Book Covers as a present for almost anyone (can you hear the production line cranking up?). And what is even better about both of these patterns, they only use small pieces of fabric, so great for using up stash - just right for an thrifty Christmas as the world economy approaches ruin.

And now we come to the Very Important Bit: choosing the winner of the Sugru giveaway.

Can I help?

As I cast about for a receptacle capacious enough for all of you to fit in, my optics fell upon the Multi Tasker Tote and the Little Stranger lurking about with intent.

In here, you say?

As you will see, the Little Stranger needed a little explanation and encouragement, but I think she is beginning to understand the concept of the blog giveaway.

How far down?

A sausage roll is an added incentive - I am not sure what they put in dog sausage rolls, but I suspect that it is either Addictive or Mouse.

Oh, I see!

And so my little furry friend rootled around in the recesses, and out she came with a winner.

Got one!

The photograph doesn't make it clear, but hip, hip, hooray for Mrs Micawber - perhaps you could let me know your address so that we can get the Sugru winging its way to you.

It's Mrs Micawber . . .

The Little Stranger was disappointed that there was only one winner to be rootled for today, but hey, who knows, another day may bring another giveaway.

Now I must get back to the production line: the geese are getting fat . . . .

Fantastic chocolate muffins

It's not just me blowing my own trumpet by telling you that these are fantastic chocolate muffins - I actually received a text from the Head Chef saying so, and that is a compliment indeed considering that his usual comment on anything I cook is that it could do with a little more salt . . .

So as a little bonne bouche for a weekday evening, and mindful of the fact that I have sadly neglected my adoring readers (cough) this week, here is my recipe for the most fantastic double chocolate muffins, baked in the Aga, but just as nice from whatever oven you choose.

Ingredients:

(For this recipe I use the metric measurements, so imperial are untested.)

Makes 1 dozen

150g (5 1/2oz) self-raising white flour
2 generous teaspoons (tsp) baking powder
50g (2oz) Green and Blacks cocoa powder
75g (3oz) golden caster sugar
100-125g (4oz) good quality chocolate chips (I use a mixture of dark and white chocolate)

75g (3 oz) unsalted butter, melted
2 free range eggs
200ml (7 fl oz) milk

Sift together the flour, baking powder and cocoa in a mixing bowl, then stir in the sugar and chocolate chips. Add some more chocolate chips if you feel the need.

Beat the eggs into the milk, then pour the melted butter into the egg and milk, and beat together.

Pour this liquid into the bowl of dry ingredients and mix together.

Divide between 12 muffin cases in a muffin pan.

In a 2 oven Aga, use the roasting oven with the shelf half way up and bake for 20 minutes turning half way. In a conventional oven, bake for 20 mins at 190C/400F (reduce by 10-20 deg for a fan oven).

Health warning:
These chocolate muffins are very delicious, and call to you from the cake tin when you are feeling a little low. If you don't have children in the house to gobble them up in a trice, your midriff is sure to suffer (don't ask me how I know). This effect can be counteracted by going to the gym, where 20 mins hard labour on the exercise bike will use up only 100 calories, but make you so hungry that you will need more muffins and a latte to revive yourself (this I definitely do know).

Absence note:
Pomona has been stitching away with the assistance of her dear Rose, and has several completed items of her very own manufacture as a result of such industry. Photos will surely follow if the sun shines, but hints are to be found here and here. (She is feeling very pleased with herself at this productivity - surely the Christmas season can hold no fear at this rate? This year there will be no emergency scarf knitting on Christmas Eve. Definitely.)

Shiny shiny

As is traditional when it comes to the time to pick a giveaway winner, the wind is whistling and wuthering fit to blow bits of paper all round the garden. I suppose that I could have just stepped outside with my bowl and let the zephyrs do the choosing, but I didn't fancy chasing round the raised beds after the winner (especially as I don't have my laceups on this morning (oh no!)), so I took the coward's route and stayed indoors to do the mighty deed.

Not a trace of breakfast in sight

And the upside of remaining safely in the kitchen is that you get to see my beautiful shiny sink (oh yes!). The Flylady would be proud of me - no backsliding here - my sinks have been shiny ever since my first encounter with Her Flyness. And funnily enough, this shiny sink business really is like the broken window syndrome - this morning I left before the Head Chef and Princess Bunchy (not only am I knocking my house into shape, the plan is also to knock my cake-ridden body into shape by going to the gym at an ungodly hour), and returned expecting to see the dregs of breakfast leering at me from the sideboard - and instead, what did I find? A shiny sink smiling beatifically at me . . . The Head Chef hopes that I am impressed; I am reserving judgement.

Admire those reflections

I am getting on much better with the Flylady now that I have bought the book - I find the website slightly frenetic, and became totally confused about where I was and where I should be, and in one of those late-night book-buying sprees (I blame Princess Bunchy and her musical talents - it is always when I am sitting up late waiting for my nearest and dearest to return from some event that I run amok in the halls of Amazon because sitting at the computer is the only thing that will keep me awake) I bought the wonderfully titled Sink Reflections in the hope of demystification.

First shine your sink

And I am happy to tell you that now all is clear and shiny - I am much more at ease with the linear narrative of the written word, all has fallen into place, and I have sorted out my to-dos and my tick lists, my house is clean and I can spend the rest of the day hand-quilting (oh, happy day!).

The tension builds

And so, having made some more cake to fill the holes eroded in the gym (possibly), I can now present you with the winner. I did think about putting the Little Stranger into the sink to do the draw (and I am sure that she wouldn't have minded, as long as something edible was involved, and her definition of edible is comfortingly wide), but then I thought that I would have to start right back at the beginning with the bleach and Shiny Sinks 101, and I have made such leaps since then it would seem a pity to take such retrograde action.

Enter sausage tongs, sink right

So I opted for the sausage tongs instead. As a vegetarian this did involve some heart-searching but I felt that this would introduce an extra element of randomness as I do find them rather awkward to manipulate (not enough practice). It took a few goes, and a few restirrings of the bowl (I kept finding that I had picked up a whole bundle of slips at a time), but eventually I got the hang of it, and here we have the winner (and I can tell you that it was not easy to take a photo with one hand while keeping the tongs clamped shut with the other).

And here is the lovely winner: Menopausal Musing who said, 'I would love to own the Sergeant Pepper teatowel and the Tunnocks one - red is such a cheery colour!' Perhaps you could email me with your details, and I will pass them on to the lovely Al at All Tea Towels.

Oh, the bliss of a shiny sink!

Commiserations to those who did not win this time, but why not put your favourite tea towels on your Christmas list? Just think what fun you could have making things shiny, shiny - I think this one would coordinate rather beautifully with my sink, and this one would look rather fetching on the Aga. I have also used tea towels as rather fun recyclable wrapping for presents;  it seems so much less wasteful than paper, and I have spotted a few in the sale which would be just perfect for some people I know . . . 

Flying; or, the best gingerbread ever, with a few hints on cookery

I have been Flying along on the housework front, you may be glad to hear (or not as the case may be), and am now feeling quite overcome with heat and exhaustion and am in dire need of Cake.

Looming domesticity

Today I did step up a gear - the Bedtime Routine is cracked (clean up the house just before bed - 20 mins - piece of cake), then the Gratitude Diary (thank goodness I can lie down now), and the sinks are shiny, shiny, so this morning I went a little further and put on lace-up shoes.

I think the Fly Lady's shoes would be cleaner (and probably shiny)

The Fly Lady is quite firm about this, and insists that you get up in the morning, get fully dressed, including Lacing Up Your Shoes, but I in my innocence and ignorance started Flying wearing ballet pumps. (They do have bows, permanently tied, and somehow I thought that I could get away with this.)

Have very High Hopes

But no, we Stay-at-Home Mummies (does running a business from home validate or invalidate this epithet?) have a nasty tendency to end up on the sofa if we can kick our shoes off easily, not to mention leaving said shoes lying around cluttering up the place . . . and yes, she's right, yesterday afternoon I suddenly found myself on the sofa, shoes on the floor, on the way to nodding off - and I wasn't even in the right Zone.

I had washed the mattress cover and patchwork quilts from our bed when I should really have been decluttering the sitting room where there are cupboards which have not seen the cold light of day in aeons (especially the yarn cupboard, which has to be approached under cover of darkness because it all has a nasty habit of tumbling out and revealing its excess when I dare to open the door).

Held together firmly

So it was lace-up shoes today, and my lovely Dottie Angel apron wrap to hold it all in - I have found that there is nothing like a nice pinny to make me feel domestically competent, but I am afraid that I peaked too early, in spite of Having High Hopes (no 1 on the list of Dottie Angel Dos) on the housework front.

Calming Dottie Angel traycloth and cookery book accessorized by food stains 

There is nothing like scrubbing down the B&B to bring on severe cravings for Tea and Cake, and so I rustled up some of the most delicious gingerbread you could imagine (for the children, of course), baked in the Aga, but it works just as well in other ovens.

Cake tin

This recipe goes back a long way - I won't tell you how many years but here are its beginnings in my school cookery book, or Domestic Science as it was termed - nothing creative about domesticity there, Being a Housewife was an Important Job (scientific rather than airy-fairy), and a full-time one at that (I am beginning to think that Being a Fly Lady is a full-time job as well, and am already looking forward to my next holiday).

Inspiring drawing of gingerbread

Please don't be put off by the fact that I only got a B+ for this - I have refined the original concept over many decades, and would draw your attention to the A I received for my macaroni cheese, which went into the Open Day Display (I think my drawing of the toast garnish is quite inspired, almost as inspired as my drawing of the gingerbread squares).

A very wonderful drawing of toast triangles

And what about my breakfast tray? There was no mucking about there, we girls were taught to warm the pot and put half a glace cherry on our grapefruits before laying up a tray to impress invalids and husbands as we tripped upstairs to give them breakfast in bed. And didn't it all come in handy for running a B&B?

Model breakfast tray for model housewife

So here is your recipe for lovely sticky gingerbread made in the Aga (or whatever cooker takes your fancy). Being so ancient, the quantities are imperial - I have given metric conversions but not tested them.

Delicious gingerbread

Ingredients:
8 oz (225g) self-raising wholemeal flour
1 level teaspoon (tsp) bicarbonate of soda
2 tsp ground ginger
2 tsp mixed spice
4 oz (110g) unsalted butter
2 oz (50g) dark muscovado sugar
4 oz (110g) black treacle
4 oz (110g) golden syrup
2 eggs
1/4 pint (150ml) milk

Shallow rectangular baking tin, preferably non-stick, approximate size 8in x 11in (20cm x 28cm) - can be a little bigger as this will just make shallower pieces of gingerbread - greased and base lined with baking parchment or greaseproof paper.


Method:
Sift dry ingredients (flour, bicarbonate of soda, ginger and spice) into a large bowl and mix together, making a well in the centre.
Melt butter, sugar, treacle and syrup together gently in a saucepan - do not allow to boil or you will have toffee instead of gingerbread.
Pour the melted mixture into the centre of the dry ingredients and mix together gradually until smooth.
Beat the eggs into the milk and add to the mixture gradually, beating well as you go.
Pour the mixture into the tin (it is quite a wet mixture) and make sure the top is level.

In the Aga (two oven):  put the grid shelf on the floor of the top oven, and the plain shelf on the second set of runners, and sit the tin on the grid shelf. Turn once half way through.
Conventional ovens: 325F/gas 3-4/160-170C (fan ovens tend to need a lower temperature).

Cooking time: 35-40 mins. The gingerbread is ready when it is beginning to shrink from the sides of the tin, and the top springs back when pressed (in the centre) lightly with your finger .

Leave to cool in the tin for 5 minutes, then turn onto a wire rack. Cut into big pieces or small as your fancy (or greed) takes you when completely cool if you can wait that long.

Time for tea

My cookery book says serve hot for tea - yum!

Look how Pomona has become rotund with grief

[I must stop baking so much cake as the Ploughboy is heading back to university next week, and the General marches off to be a fresher this weekend. I shall become positively rotund with grief if I carry on like this; I thought sending off number two would be a piece of cake in itself, but as the fatal day approaches I feel my heartstrings a-quiver and the tears waiting in the wings . . .  Princess Bunchy and the Aged Ps will be all alone but for the dogs and the hens and the pigs and the spiders, oh so many spiders, the feather duster has been much in play.

Shoes that mean business and a faithful friend in adversity

She tightens her apron strings and marches firmly on into the future with High Hopes and tight-laced shoes.]