Wow, it’s been such a long time since I’ve felt the urge to write. Not just ‘ought’ to write, but ‘wanting’ to scrawl down the most inner workings of my normally jumbled up mind. I have been on the edge of ‘wanting’ for a very long time, but the time wasn’t quite right. So I’ve waited and hoped, hoped and waited and wondered if the drivers that fire my synapses up would reappear.

Something has distinctly changed, it’s almost like I am beginning to knit together, or maybe stitch together – you may be the judge. Not perfectly, not completely, but enough that I can turn around and recognise myself again, I can think, ‘There you are, I remember you.’

It will be the fourth Christmas and three Christmas trees without hubby, and even though I feel like I am starting to mend I still misstep and find tears starting to tumble mid fairy light sorting. But as they say, grief has its own timetable. Mine has been slower than some peoples and much deeper than I expected. I’ve watched other woman bounce back within a year, finding someone new and start living brightly again. But honestly? That was never going to be me, I needed time and peace and apparently a lot of it.

And if I’m being honest, I think the diet has played a part in the delay of finding my contented self. When you’re watching ever calorie, every gram of fat and every morsel is rigorously analysed as to how it best fits into my plan. Whether that be wild nights on a Friday and manipulating the overall calorie count to work or which particular carb and protein will best fit into my plan that day to give satiety and flavour whilst still giving me an overall 500 calorie deficit. It narrows your world, gone are the days where I would be roasting, baking cakes, jam tarts and mince pies with gay abandon, simply because I fancied making them. Much as the dogs might adore me, it’s only (generally) me to eat them all up. Occasionally I’ll whip up a batch of fairy cakes with a handful of fruit in them for good measure and freeze them, so as I may take one out on a cold and windy Sunday evening and enjoy with a hot cup of tea. Facebook memories pop up with images of flour dusted worktops and loaves cooling on racks and I admire just how much we all managed to enjoy. I have quite recently purchased myself a bread machine which is wonderful so that I am able once a week to make myself a small loaf without too much strain and then enjoy it very slowly – although I’m not really sure if this is what was meant by slow food!

But this is where I want to be. Weight loss has given me so many pleasures, being able to move more easily for one, but there have been costs of which I have paid willingly. I will probably always be that woman who looks at a slice of cake in the way that a new mother looks at her first born child. Full of love and longing. But that’s the price I pay at this moment in time and I accept it and I choose it.

I can feel myself shifting in a good way. A sense of peace and of coming back to myself. Not the same woman who baked and kneaded and lived very busily in the moment – but a leaner, wiser, calmer woman who is ageing well and is joyful in her moment.

Maybe that is all this post is, a marker in time to say that this is the beginning of my return, a gentle stretch after a long sleep. Where I begin to make peace with who I have become and to find myself and my creativity again with writing, small adventures and the kind of everyday noticing that used to bring me such joy.

I’m not fully whole yet, but I’m on my way and I can feel the sparks of curiosity for oh so many projects – you know what I’m like, a new project and I’m a happy girl. And that, that is enough to start writing again.

I’m so sorry for letting the blog slide for so long. That won’t happen again. At last I am beginning to feel that I have found my identity on living on my own. Its not to say its without anxiety and worry, but I’m generally plodding on in a good way. I’ve had the most brilliant winter, it has been absolutely wonderful comprising of many trips out with various members of our newly formed gang of people I went to school with that were in my year. There has been shopping, singing, quite a bit of singing actually – who knew we all liked a sing song, from Christmas carols to rocking it to Meat Loaf hits at the theatre and quite a bit of drinking. The laughs come thick and fast and I think its something we have all loved. A lovely pair of them even took me in for Christmas Day, it was such a wonderful day, lots of laughs, games and the food never stopped… Brilliant. I really appreciated their generosity of spirit.

Now we are into the end of February so of course my thoughts have turned to the allotment. The greenhouse has been washed inside and out and this year I have removed all of the compost to replace it. It was quite a job but I got there in the end. Last year I noticed that a couple of my blueberries had died so this year I bought in three new ones, an early, mid season and late version, making it to five blueberries, which should keep me going quite well. They’ve all been planted in ericaceous compost and been fed blueberry feed, so I’m quite hopeful. I also bought a thornless gooseberry which will have dark purple fruit. I’m all for buying thornless varieties of fruit, it makes life so much easier. There was a lovely little gooseberry bush here but I’d never seen thorns like it, you couldn’t get near the fruit, that had to go.

I’ve been sorting through my seeds, there’s nothing like a good shuffle through your seed packets on a February evening to get the sap rising after the hibernation of winter.

With that in mind, I trotted to the plot in-between the showers yesterday and planted a few seeds, whilst listening to the birds and heavy rain drops.

Broad beans, early onward peas, sweet peas, leeks and chilli’s. I’ll plant a few more peas and beans in a couple of weeks for succession. Brassicas will be started then and after that it will be time for the runner beans, courgettes, cucumbers and pumpkins and we will be off to a flying start. I’m going to start the parsnips, beetroots and lettuces at home over the next night or two in paper cases. Of course I will run out of room at the allotment but I think we can take that as a given, knowing how I love to pack everything in.

I’m currently weeding out the strawberry beds, they are full of twitch which has roots that go all the way down to Hades and is a devil to control. But try to control it I must, so it’s a long job. There are lots of big jobs still to do, I’m working three hours a day with one notable day that I went back after lunch and actually achieved a five hour day on the plot. I needed a long hot soak in the tub after that.

At the moment I’m trying a new to me plant based meal subscription kit by Planthood. Its main joy is that it is restaurant quality chef prepared, so much of the hard work has been done for you. We are in the middle of what is termed the hungry gap where there is very little left on the allotment and we will have a couple of months before we get anything to eat. Although I do have well stocked freezers to keep me going I thought this was the time to try some new ideas. I’ll let you know in more detail what I think of it when I’ve tried more of the meals. Obviously once the allotment is back in full swing it will become redundant, but this is the first meal.

This was high protein chilli garlic tempeh noodles with crunchy rainbow vegetables and toasted sesame seeds. I felt it was under seasoned and I’m not a heavy handed user of salt, so added some soy. I’d not eaten tempeh before, it is denser than tofu and I would say a nuttier flavour, although it has a back flavour on the palate that I’m not too keen on. I think I prefer tofu. In fact I’d go so far as to say that I won’t be ordering a tempeh meal again. But the prepared sauce was good. It is meant to feed two but there was enough for three meals so that was a win in a way, but I found that too much for just one, maybe I should have frozen a meal. The next two meals look interesting, rich & fragrant laksa with tofu, pak choi, vermicelli noodles, crispy shallots, chilli, coriander and lime and then sri lankan daal with crispy courgette & corn fritters, date tamarind chutney and organic soy yoghurt. The truth of the pudding as they say is in the eating, time will tell. Planthood have 40% discounts to try them with if you look around the net. I was hoping for a code to put on facebook etc, but the discount code only seems to work if you have peoples email addresses, which I don’t tend to collect email addresses like I used to.

It is a British propensity of going from feasting to frugality often in the same week, where perhaps an expensive meal or two was had over the weekend with less expensive foods consumed during the week. This was such a problem in the middle of the 1800’s that booklets were written to help the middle-class housewife who previously had often had staff to help cook and clean. Staff were possibly more adept at producing meals within budget but as housewives ran the whole household now work weary husbands were coming home to banquets one night and a thin soup the next. Mrs Beeton’s Book of Household Management literally took off such was the need to understand the basics.

But once you do understand the basics then how you plan your budget becomes a masterpiece within itself. Personally I’m not a restaurant dweller, I could wax lyrical about why I’m not, but the sum part of it is, been there, done that. As I get older, I just can’t be bothered to play the game, eating two or three courses that I’m not finding interesting, often on uncomfortable seating, (but that might be a me problem!) listening to the clatter of other people eating (were restaurants this loud when we were younger?) and to pay for the privilege of doing so. I’d much rather just go down the pub and have a few drinks with friends to catch up on the gossip and banter.

So these days I’ve taken to feasting and frugality in an ingredient household way. The frugality part is really easy with having an allotment, munching on corn on the cobs, fresh roasted tomatoes on home made garlic bread, minestrone soups and roasted pumpkins combined with various salads is never going to be a hardship. Combine it with a little good cheese and it becomes a hearty supper. The feasting is in the developmental, I’ve given myself permission to do this stage. It’s something hubby and I used to do and it is time to return to that. So in the last few weeks I’ve enjoyed the odd fillet steak with home made chips, half a dozen oysters with a homemade mignonette sauce, caviar and cream cheese with a few home made blini’s, crab and smoked salmon on wafer thin crackers to name but a few. I’m eyeing up the lobster tails, it would be much more fun to buy live lobsters but I’d have to go to the next city for that and the scallops looked most interesting the other day. Heading into deeper territory of the shell fish season always makes me happier.

So in the spirit of frugality but I’m pretty sure it was feasting I made a homegrown apple pie with a 50/50 mix of cookers and eaters, heavy on the butter and cinnamon, a pure butter pastry with the fragrance of lemon. It was lush. Happy autumn cooking and eating everyone.

During a spat with my sister recently she threw into the argument that all I had was the allotment with such venom that it made me draw a sharp intake of breath. And since then it has festered in my mind and I’m really not sure how to come to terms with it. Of course I could ignore it, but there is that element of truth that my mind is drawn to the allotment and am I viewed as a someone that has nothing else in their life? Perhaps. Would that be a bad thing? Perhaps not. I’ve always viewed myself as having an eclectic range of interests, knitting, sewing, cooking, reading, art, photography, wildlife, swimming, blogging, make up, fashion etc etc. But the one I suspect I am the most passionate about is the plot. So perhaps that’s how I am viewed. Well there we are, crazy allotment lady it is. I can think of worse pursuits.

We are now in late September at the plot and due to two very good friends my tidying up process for the end of year has gone much better than expected. Julie came over on Sunday and we spent a jolly couple of hours hoeing much of the plot which has given me such a head start. I’m just waiting for the rain to come so that it will soften the ground enough so that I can start my winter digging. Then yesterday Arthur came over and helped me dig out the compost bin. He did the digging I did the toting, and I am so grateful as his help in an afternoon saved what would have taken me a week. I feel well on track to finish tidying up for this winter now and it will make the start of next years work so much easier.

Last spring I was not in the same place and I felt very wobbly about the plot, this time Andrew next door came to my rescue with a pep talk and helped on my strawberry bed and that simple act changed my direction into a more positive stance and I was off on my jolly little way once more. Small acts like these can make such a positive change, I am very grateful. (He also mowed my track a few weeks ago when my arm was playing up and that helped so much).

So September, what has this year been like? I would say it has been a dark summer, so dark the blackberries came to fruition much earlier than usual. But because of the rain they are very big. Brassicas seem to have done well, its been too cold for the courgettes and tomatoes struggled but have come into their own. I had my first real bowlful of cherries and the apples are the biggest I’ve had. The pear tree suffered from some sort of mould/fungus, probably from the damp, so not so many of those. But I’ve had more than enough to eat and am still squirrelling away supplies for the winter. Next year I should get my first asparagus and I am really looking forward to having an established bed.

But for now I will get more of my tidying up done whilst having breaks in the sunshine watching the birds and insects and communing with the allotment cat. Just doing me.

First of all I must apologise for the long absence. It’s been a bit tricky but at the moment I feel like my life is slowly forming into something new and I like it. Old friends have come back into my life and give much laughter, newer friendships have grown into deeper understandings of each other and it’s starting to be pretty good actually. There has been other stuff, not so good, going on and I just needed to step away from the internet. To give myself time to breath this summer without thinking about blog posts and the like. But I do enjoy my online diary and intend to continue. I’ve always thought it will be fun to read from the start in my later years.

So I’m just going to jump in with what I’ve been doing lately.

I hauled the pumpkins home this week, there should have been more but some had rotted, some didn’t grow and I’m pretty sure a couple went missing. Casual theft on allotments is common and its always one of those frustrating issues that is very difficult to deal with. I’d counted 14 earlier in the season and I brought home 8. If I see some varieties on my travels, notably one or two onion squash would be nice I will add them to my collection.

So what is my favourite food? Anything home cooked with as many flavours packing a punch as is possible especially when many of the components are home grown. I particularly enjoy what I call a Buddha bowl, which is basically a healthy version of a pick and mix beige buffet that you might have had at your grans on Boxing day. And you never eat the same variety of Budha bowl twice, it’s always ‘oh look, I’ve got a carrot, head of broccoli, pepper what shall I do with them?’ This particular plate was inspired by an offer that Sainsbury’s had with their chicken legs, 2 kg for £2.60 with your nectar card. There were twenty legs, ten went straight into the freezer, the others were popped into the oven covered with Reggae Reggae jerk barbecue sauce (highly recommended) and a sprinkle of seasalt. Next I prepped a small pumpkin and threw that in with the chicken dressing it with the sauce with a red pepper perched on top. Prepped the seeds from the pumpkin and seasoned them with sweet smoked paprika, fennel seeds and malden sea salt, spray of oil and roasted those. I made a sweet dressing for the pumpkin with fresh chilli, rhubarb and orange jam (home made of course) fresh coriander, balsamic, vinegar and olive oil. Prepped the salad, iceberg, cucumber, tomatoes, beetroot and red onion. Rescued the last of the dolmades from the fridge and found a squidgy of mayonnaise. It was very good.

There would have been more leftovers but the whippets managed to get their long noses over the edge of the roasting tray and stole two pieces of pumpkin. But I can’t begrudge them it as pumpkin is so good for dogs, as it is everybody, packed full of vitamins and minerals and their seeds are packed full of magnesium, zinc, antioxidants, omega 3 and 6 and iron. And if this plateful of wonderful food won’t keep the doctor away I don’t know what will.

British working class photography 1989 – 2024

First of all when did I get so old that a collaboration of art can be dated to the last 35 years, from the date I married and had my first child. But it definitely means that I was there! So I thought it might be fun to explore, not least you don’t get much more working class than a dustbin mans daughter! Although I married up, as so many pretty working class girls did in the 80’s, the class divide never quite putting us in our place. We didn’t really look at it like that, we just married for love. I was shocked when trying to get into an area of social work in my fifties, during the long and arduous interview process, to be judged and verbally commented on that it was ‘very unusual for people to marry out of their class’, by some snooty middle class social worker! You see a working class background is stamped into your DNA, no matter how much you earn or where you manage to go to university, your identity is clearly visible for any that care to take more than a casual glance. It’s in the way you look, dress, walk, eat, talk. I for one have always been proud of my identity but if I weren’t it would be practically impossible to escape and those that have and try to discard their heritage, I feel lose something of themselves, they’ve sold out and are then without identity, never quite fitting into the middle class world that they try to aspire to, their working class friends never quite trusting them. I’m lucky, I live in an area where the working class, who managed to stay in quite an expensive area, are still tight knit. We have weathered the storms and when we get together we often just have a good laugh at how damn poor we were.

So obviously, I was going to go and see this exhibition. I’m hooked before I go. It did not disappoint.

The End of History brings together twenty six contemporary working class artists who use photography to explore the nuances of life in all its diversity both inwards into their own lives and communities and outwards to the wider world. Here are just three.

Kelly O’Brien, a visual artist and lecturer’s work was I feel very powerful with her look at hidden histories, her Nan’s back and bra painted quite the picture of hard work and sacrifice. For me, I think it was one of the strongest pieces in the whole exhibition and completely inspirational. If you were to take a political stance, you can immediately see that all pigs are not equal just from this one image.

Anna Magnowska’s an illustrator, sexual health nurse and art physiotherapist has had to juggle several roles to support herself in her art practice. Her encounters while working as a waitress were particularly informative of the power dynamics within society. Having worked as a waitress as a pretty 21 year old, I can testify that you get this in all directions from the power plays that bored middle class housewife’s or their business owning husbands direct at you, (this coffee’s too cold, its been sat there 3/4 of an hour while you chat, I’d like a free top up – every single time they come in), the leery men who think you’re game for anything, or the head waiter that you never go anywhere near in a dark corridor or else he will try to pin you against the wall and feel you up.

Another favourite was Tom Wood’s pieces on bus journeys. Buses are the domain of the working class in a way that no matter how many incentives the government trial (and the £2.00 a trip is a reasonable incentive but don’t let me bang on about how practically everywhere, especially London, get’s free travel at 60 years of age) you will never get the middle class out of their vehicles, no matter how much you tax them or how cheap you make the bus. (unless its short hops in London) People will travel on the tube and trains, but a smelly old bus where in my opinion you can see the whole of working class life unfold before your very eyes, the middle classes would rather look away.

I love bus street photography, I find it fascinating, the bus is a complete world within itself. I find bus travel very illuminating and wonderfully chatty. You can make strong connections in five minutes and never see them again. I find myself thinking about people I’ve met or seen, talked to, or didn’t. Bus travel is often a window into a person’s soul, a great leveller, where people are just themselves, where they sit and be, where everything can be revealed without them realising. The joy of going shopping, the weekly trip out, going to pick up the grandchildren, visiting the sick in hospital, the grind and tiredness of work, new outfits with a new boyfriend, its all there ready to be revealed as you hop on the bus to your destination. Other artists i’ve found and loved was Nick Turpins, On the Night Bus and Night Owls, Portraits of Life on the Night Bus by Sarah Lee if you fancy a look.

Getting back to Tom Wood’s pieces, these two caught my eye. Aspirational fashion for young working women juggling children and buses and graffitied bus stops are the epitome of the working class space, almost as iconic as a fag ash and smoke filled sports and social club.

I think a very thoughtful show to take time over.

And of course the bonus was that I have now been to see Dippy, she was still waiting for me and i’m happy to say will be here until next year.

I think Valentines would be a lovely time of year if it weren’t for the hopes and disappointments that it has invariably sprung upon me throughout my entire life. Hubby was hopeless, bless him, and unfortunately before him I never seemed to attract the right sort of boy who would, (as we watched from the pub yesterday) stride down the town, with the most glorious bouquet of flowers for their beloved.

So this year I choose me and wish to share with you all the things I have loved over the last month or so.

Firstly, I think I can share, we have a baby on the way and I will then come by the name of Nanny. Or Nan, or Naaaaaan as they grow older. And… it’s a girl! So there will be lots of lovely dresses and skirts and ruffly ballet skirts and ra ra dresses and oh the worlds my oyster, it will be lovely.

But first there had to be a Baby Surprise Jacket by Elizabeth Zimmerman in yarn that had been carefully put in my stash at least 15 years ago with the sole intention of becoming the first garment that I ever knit for my first grandchild. Knit in Regia Square Colour 6 ply (dk) in colour way 1125 (still available on Amazon as Square Circus!) And next I carefully hunted down the exact shade of red ladybird buttons that I had imagined for years. It came out perfectly, exactly as I had imagined.

Next on the list was looking through Vinted and finding a big stash of baby wear for 0 – 3 months, which i bought and carefully washed. And this image made me happier than you can ever imagine.

Is that not the cutest pile of clothing you ever did see? Hopes and dreams are wrapped up right there, it makes me very happy.

What else has made me happy this year? Well we now have a wedding and for a week or so, dresses were flying in and out of the mandycharlie household. I’ve settled on two, one in dark green the other dark teal so both on the same palette, to be chosen the day before the wedding as to which I feel most confident in, being a woman who barely shows her legs these days. Although I have intentions to change that a little this year. We have just a few weeks to go so the “motherofthegroomdiet” is in full swing, wish me luck, another half a stone would be nice.

I tried my luck at growing some tulips in water, basically because I didn’t fancy my chances planting them while Noah was rushing to finish his ark because of all the rain. They were very pretty, I don’t think I would plant so many in the same container next time but I loved them.

Not one to blow my own trumpet, but others do it for me occasionally most notably by my friend Mary at knitting this week 🙂 so I’d better mention it. I won Greatest Loser of the year award at Slimming World for the 2nd year running. Just so’s you know, I’ve lost 6 stone 5 lbs now. Still a way to go but feeling so much lighter, stronger and healthier. It’s all good.

There has been food. Of course there has been food and one of my favourite dishes this month has been this Ramen inspired Slimming World Food for the Soul inspired dish I made which was very good.

And lastly there have been lovely people. A night out and an afternoon in the pub, theatre trip, knitting group and slimming group, line dancing group, a lovely friend who picks me up to go swimming, another who takes me to the gym, just enough to break the monotony of the continual rain, I am grateful for them all. 

So happy Valentines to you all. Have fun. x

Has been quite the journey in the last 12 months. Last January I was very much new widow deep in grief but this New Year I feel very much that I am allowed to have fun and be happy. I have to say that I have had a lot of support along the way and I am very grateful for that, they know who they are.. to have been able to catch that spark of joy again, and have fun, has been an absolute blessing and I am very grateful.

So this Christmas I decided that I was going to do A lot. And at times I thought I had bitten off too much and was going to feel exhausted, but pacing myself when I needed to and doing what felt right at the time I was able to enjoy every aspect.

Firstly I put my Christmas tree up mid November, much to the horror and amusement of my closest friends. I asked on Facebook if they thought it was too early, and it was a very divisive question I have to tell you, but they knew, whatever they said… it was going up! So up it went and I felt better for seeing it in all its glory having not seen it for two years.

Next turkey thighs and drumsticks started to come into the supermarkets, so I started to play with them. You can always tell when I’m in happier times because my creative brain is either at the plot, kitchen, sewing machine or knitting, so I think I probably bored to death my Facebook friends with pictures of stuffed turkey thighs or drumsticks being dismantled and made into one concoction or another, all of which have proved delicious so I make no apologies for the forensic detailing.

And then over the last month I’ve basically been building one positive experience after another. Obviously those that know and love me understand I love good food and I relish the change in the seasons this time with an R in the month so bringing in good quality shell fish. (although apparently the French make no such distinction!) So I’ve enjoyed mussels and most recently half a dozen delicious oysters with a shallot vinaigrette and a couple of glasses of champagne. Who says us singletons can’t enjoy exquisite food on our own. Keith Floyd often extolled the virtue of a single supper, where the ingredients were either too costly or laborious for a dinner party or where it no longer fitted into the ideal of food fashion and I completely agree with him. I want to renew my acquaintance with a freshly grilled lobster (having previously bought your live lobster) with garlic butter to dip the tails and claws into with a glass or two of a chilled white burgundy is something on my to do list this winter. 

And sometimes the ingredients can be as cheap as chips or as in this case these wonderfully fresh sardines, this tasty supper was just pennies but oh so good.

There were theatre trips, Slimming World parties where I dressed as a Reindeer and along with my partner in crime won best Festive dress, most amusing it was, especially when trotting around Sainsburies still in full costume.

The Santa hat was found and worn on all excursions.

A wonderful evening spent with friends turned out brilliantly.

Along with a roasted turkey dinner for a good and supportive friend and meeting friends at the pub to while away a rainy afternoon.

There were Secret Santa’s at knitting and the smuggling in of the mince pies, along with a lovely evening Carol singing at St Johns Church and I nearly forgot another choral event I was invited to at the last minute at St Barnabus, the cutest church you ever saw, so tiny and adorable which was absolutely charming.

Christmas lunch at Son no.2’s was wonderful full of fun and laughter.

And so this has gone on. Dad’s 88th birthday… Where son no.2 and fiancee came over to see him as a surprise.

Ending with New Years Eve parties and an unplanned New Years Day party.

How lucky have I been, I feel very lucky indeed.

This year plans are already coming together, theatre trips have been booked and I must get to the cinema soon to see Wonka, I wouldn’t want to miss that. Gym memberships has been bought, swimming has been booked, knitting will restart. I must start a new quilt and start again on the allotment just as soon as it stops raining. Back to Slimming World next week, they’re basically my family now, they know more about my inner workings than my Dad! We laugh, we commiserate, we plan world domination!, or at least how not to get dragged down the crisp aisle, my nemesis.

It’s good, all good.

Happy New Year to you and yours,

much love, M x

Or as I’ve always referred to them since childhood, the Happy Fields.

The truth is I haven’t been back since before hubby became quite ill. So they were calling to me, but it is quite the walk from where I live, there and back and although when I was younger it would have been no bother I have in the last few years become lazier and fatter.

When I was a child I walked everywhere in Kenilworth and beyond, often walking with a friend to Leamington to see her Nan. We thought nothing of it. Then I got married and although I don’t drive, hubby did, so I just got used to using the car, although I did try to get hubby to see the joys of walking he never really took to it. Often even driving to the allotment, which is only a few minutes walk. I’d always tried to stick to the walking, but had become lazier as I headed through my fifties and really this is not a place I want to be. My ultimate plan is to be like the fit late eighty year old women on the allotment, they are a site to behold and have only become so fit because of tiny details that have formed habits which have stacked one on top of the other.

My fitness both mentally and physically has increased over the last year, I’m feeling better than I have in a long time. Mainly coming about by pushing myself, especially at the beginning, but there is one habit that I want to add and that is a several times a week walk to the Abbey Fields and back, hopefully with a swim included when they finish the new swimming pool.

Habit stacking the tiny details that make you healthier and therefore happier, that is my winter project for a better me.

And my reward will be the changing seasons of this lovely view.

I had an urge for fruit cake, but there is no way I can contemplate staring at a whole fruit cake for weeks on end. And I can’t give it to the dogs, which is my normal plan to hoover up the leftovers as dried fruit is toxic to dogs. So I enlisted Dad and then later son no.1’s help. They both readily agreed, although they didn’t realise that they were being set up, or even if they had they would still be very happy about it.

And you all know what this means…. It’s going to be that type of fruit cake! For those that don’t it’s hubbys mothers trusty Christmas cake tin all wrapped up. I’ve started to save the brown paper I wrap around the outside, this is the third cake it has protected, I’m pleased about the thriftiness.

Fruit soaked overnight with twice the recommended Brandy. Only because I noticed the fruit had soaked it all up while stirring it before going to bed, so I threw in another 100ml. Some fruit almost refuses to soak up the alcohol, but this particular dried fruit did very well.

All ready for the oven, with very careful almond placement.

After four hours on 140c

Which after an hour or so I started to anoint it with more Brandy. And then after another hour another big splash of Brandy. So far this cake has had about 350ml of Brandy. Mind you I did join it by imbibing a splash of the cooking Brandy in a latte, with some lovely dark brown sugar for ellevensies. The cooking Brandy was very good, weird that it was in a plastic bottle, but £11.50 a bottle from Sainsbury’s, the ratings were good, so I thought I’d try it.

Already to be wrapped up for the tin. I’ll let it mature for a couple of days and then divide into three.