Things I have done:

Saturday was a very weird day.

It was the village book and plant swap - I was helping mum with the plants, meaning I had to stand in the pouring rain (the only day it rained). My hair went very curly, my shoes were soaked, and trying to make polite conversation with villagers I had never met. 

It wasn't all bad though - I went into the hut (village hall, but small so it really is lovingly called the hut) with Ma Baillie to look at the books. Most of them were Richard and Judy's Summer Read types, but there was the odd other book, such as a collection of dictator's biographies. My favourite was an erotic vicar/vampire book with the subtitle 'They came at the same time, but only he was alive', and a picture of a busty vampire-type and a dashing Vicar. Someone bought it. Mum has her suspicions. 

I bought Long Way Down because a few people have been talking about it recently, and when we watched it I managed to miss out a third of it. I also bought a Discworld book for my sister.

Things started to get a bit different when I was invited to go to an art studio/gallery to help interview the artist Andrzej Kuhn. The gallery's owned by a lovely pair of artists, who love music as much as their art. Kuhn was interviewed (he is such an interesting man and artist), the other three artists were at their easels and Mrs Kuhns sat on a sofa with the 2nd most adorable dog in the world. She really fascinated me - she was the type of woman that authors find so physically interesting, they use pages to describe. She looked like she had a hundred stories to tell, and she probably did. I liked her very much. I have just realised this is probably because she reminds me of Ms Deborah Jenkins.

After lunch, I was fetched the most amazing guitar and asked just to play. And I did - for hours! My fingers were aching and I was pretty sure everyone had noticed that I'd been playing the same things over and over again, but every time I stopped a shout came from behind one of the easels to 'Carry on, carry on!' Also, I couldn't move because Mrs Kuhn was drawing me. Unfortunately I had to leave before it was much more than a sketch, but I was still incredibly honoured. I have just asked my sister to draw me. She laughed. I'm going to draw her instead. 

There's something about rain that makes me tired. I love the rain - as long as it's proper rain, none of that misty stuff, but after a while I just want to snuggle up with a cup of tea. 

So when I finally got home and discovered a mother's meeting in the living room, I chose to sulk in the kitchen. Not really being in a sulking mood, I chose to get rid of my excess energy by playing hockey in the kitchen.

Saturday night was Eurovision. I am not going to say anything else about it. 

Almost forgot - I went to work with mum's friend at the cookery class. It was rather amusing - lots of loud, characterful women (aged around 60 and dressed nicely) who would not stop giggling. I can't remember most of it, but I do remember laughing in the pantry a lot. Amazingly, they asked me back.

Um, that's pretty much it. I think.

F xx

Things that make it summer:

The dozen or so of you that read this (if my hit counter is right) may have noticed that true to form, I have started to forget about my blog. In fact I am considering abandoning it all together - 'just throwing things into the void'.

But I am not sure. I may just do it intermittently. Yeah I know, but I'll be doing it intermittently on purpose so I won't feel guilty about it.

Well now I just feel like I'm talking to myself. Justifying it to myself. 

Whatever.

Whatever. Sometimes I like to act like a stereotypical teenager because:

1: People assume teenagers are clichés anyway 

2: It's fun to be grumpy sometimes.

So, we've had summer. A scorcher of a weekend. I'm tanned, freckled, and slightly pink on my nose - all signs that it's sunny! According to old English folk-lore, it's summer when you can place your foot over ten garden daisies - we just had our grass cut so I can't check this out...
 The weather's also brought out the salad plants - you can see them growing by the hour! The chilli I stuck in the pot did not grow. Instead, one of the neighbours who heard of my gardening expertise, gave me a started chilli plant. Lovely.

The same neighbour offered me a job for an afternoon helping her at a cooking school, which I'm rather looking forward too. Probably because we watched Julie & Julia again, and I want to stride around booming 'BON APPETITE' (not ape tit) á la Julia Child. On the night we watched it with my Mother, I managed to set the grill on fire with a Linda McCartney Vegetarian sausage. Apparently I won't be allowed to do any actual cooking at the lesson now! 

Talking about summer (well, I was a bit ago...) I am SO excited about seeing Mumford & sons, Laura Marling and Johnny Flynn at Hop Farm Festival this summer! Thinking about it is almost making me hyperventilate... *Dooph* - that was the sound of me momentarily passing out.

I should probably do some photography soon, but all I've been doing recently is manual labour (I'll explain in a mo) and lazing about in the sun. Guessing it's not something people would be interested in seeing.

Those of you that know me probably don't see me as the best candidate for manual labour. I am a 5ft 4, 8.5stone 19-year old girl. I am not a brute. Yet I manage to uproot 5 tree stumps single-handedly. That's a lie, I used two hands and a fork. A gardening fork, not a kitchen fork - I would have to be a brute to it with a kitchen fork.
Therefore, I do not feel quite as guilty as I did before about not hitting the gym as much. My biceps are not starting to resemble iron girders, and I do have a funny twinge in my shoulder, but it feels so good to use my muscles again! (That makes me sound like a body builder... I'm really not)

I'm off to do some bench presses  eat some cake!

F xx

Things I did this weekend:

After recovering from my exhaustion I went on an adventure. It was supposed to be pretty simple – I drove to dad’s flat in Windsor, stayed the night there (and ate three Krispy Kremes... One of them for breakfast. Oops!) Then set off the next morning for Marlborough to visit my adorable friend known as Gandalf (for reason I cannot begin to explain here).  The journey was, uh, interesting. My normally trusty sat nav (named Miss Deborah, my car is Mr Holbrook) decided the best route was cross country, which I could just about handle. Imagine this: Driving through the beautiful Wiltshire country side, windows down, as a Laura Marling album playing softly against the gentle summer breeze. The single track road leads you to the top of a hill, where you are surrounded by beautiful patchwork valleys. Miss Deborah’s shrieking tone breaks the silence; ‘Arriving at destination, on left!’

My beautiful summer-drive dream was shattered. I’d only been to Marlborough a few times, but I was pretty sure in the last two years it hadn’t been raised to the ground and replaced with a field. Yet my sat nav was adamant that I was in Marlborough High Street. Tits. I did what any self-respecting young woman would do and panicked, phoned Gandalf to say I’d be a tad late and grabbed a handful of Haribo.

I eventually made it, despite traffic jams and the lack of parking in Marlborough. Amazingly I was early. Gandalf was late. Lunch in Ask was pretty normal, except for the restaurant filling with smoke every ten minutes (the only advantage of sitting by the door – asthmatic Gandalf could breathe)

Strange moment - a man in his late 20’s came up to Gandalf and started a full-on, but friendly conversation about her knee (she’s on crutches), he was so comfortable in the conversation I assumed she knew him – she didn't. Turns out neither of them knew the second man that joined the conversation, though they all seemed pretty animated in their knee-focused conversation. I have a bad knee, but am not on crutches nor having an impending operation so was not permitted to join the conversation. Didn’t want to take part anyway. Pah.

I eventually made it down to my old school for a BBQ and a trip to the pub. Most of the old pupils were old, though there were a few ‘youngsters’ there. I spent most of the night being embarrassed in front of the Headmaster and his wife by the old pupils that had attended a wine-tasting evening when I was a Prefect – that was an epic night!

I was supposed to be camping in a field in the village with two boys that were in my year. I say boys - they are both over 6ft, individually weigh more than three of me and are generally a bit boy-ish. There was only one tent so I was intending to sleep in my car. Luckily, whilst at the pub, an old pupil, who happened to be my old biology teacher, and now house mistress of my old house offered me her sofa. I could not have been more grateful! I skipped the cricket on Sunday – it started to rain and I wasn’t in the mood for sitting in the rain whilst old men got far too excited by the prospect of standing around for hours.

I cannot think of anything more lovely than sleeping in my own, giant bed. It is the most comfortable bed in the world. That’s not an exaggeration, it really is! Strange how home-sick I got just by going back to school for a day. Don’t get me wrong, I loved it when I was there, but I love being at home more.

Mostly because I get to play guitar all day and eat real food. 

Fxx

PS. If any of the above seems a little German in it's grammar, apologies, but for some reason that I cannot fathom, my Germanic heritage seems to be showing itself in my written language...

I haven't written for ages because:

1: I'm ill

2: I'm rubbish at sticking at things. 

Will write when I have energy again. 

F x

I am a domestic goddess and an impatient mess all in one.

So I'm still obsessed with cooking stuff - especially bread and cakes. I know. As mum already put it 'You're going to be the size of a house'. I'm trying not to become such a monstrosity, though it is hard when everything's just so delicious! I'm going to start sending my bread and cakes, if only so I don't devour them. Let me know if you want one!

This morning I made what I believe is the greatest home-made bread known to mankind. But I am biased.
Here's a little picture of my yummy bread: (there were 2 more rolls, but I ate them. Nom nom nom)

Ok, so they may not be perfectly formed, and yes, that one is heart shaped but the just so good! Maybe I was just light headed from all the kneading.... 

Unfortunately the carrot cake was not so successful. The last one turned out ok, this one was far from it.

It started once the mix was made and I poured it into the tin. There may  have been a huge clue, as the mix stopped millimetres from the top, but as I watched it in the oven it reached the top and stopped. Perfect! 

Mum put a quiche in below it, and the carrot cake got its 10 minute poke test. Still liquid in the middle but bound to get better. 

10 minutes later, I take the quiche out and see a grotesque growth on the back half of it. 

Then I see it. All down the back of the oven are stalagmites and stalactites of carrot cake - Cheddar Gorge has nothing on the inside of my oven! 

I cleaned most of it out before I took this picture:

                              

The rest of the cake has now sunk. One onlooker has made the suggestion of heating it up and eating it with ice-cream. I shan't. I don't want to balloon.

In other news, I have planted a salad mix in a pot for summer:

                                                  

Yum. 

I also tried  to plant some chilli. I did very well, until it came to putting the seeds in the soil - they were no where to be seen.  As you can imagine, that made planting them rather tricky. Now, as some of you may know, I do not  have the patience of a saint, so instead of looking for them in the 'barn' I went into the kitchen, grabbed a chilli out of the cupboard and shoved it in the soil. I think the sign says it all really:

                                  Grow Dammit

Yesterday (possibly the day before) my dad's brother and his family came round for tea. Whilst Aunt, sister, cousin #1 and #2 and I were in the kitchen, eating carrot cake, uncle and mum were in the Well Room trying to change the light bulb in the well (our house used to be the village pub, and there's a rather deep well with a 2inch thick glass plate over the top of the old well...).

Imagine, if you will, a loud Glaswegian scream: 'CASSIE, CAAAAAAASSIE!!' 

I should explain Cassie is my cat. My cat that had taken a running jump into the open well. 

Cue further panic and my uncle, who is  luckily a fireman, lean into the well and pluck her out. I say pluck, yank out by her neck is probably more like it! She had clawed her way up part of the wall and was headed towards the over-spill pipe before he got her. 

She was then flung at me, so I rang out her tail and got her a towel.

I have never laughed so much at a poor helpless animal!

Actually that's a lie. When she was a kitten she was in the garden, leaping through the grass, dancing in the breeze, pawing at a passing butterfly. She sprung into the air, caught the butterfly, and landed with an almighty splash in the pond. 2/9 gone.

F xx 

Things that are inspiring/need inspiration:

Look what my lovely mother bought me instead of petrol money: The Self-Sufficiency Bible!

I love this book. If I could marry a book and live on a small-holding raising chickens and growing carrots, it would be with this one. That's a bit weird, but you get the point!

It's not only that it's about self-sufficiency, it's just written so well! Unlike rather a lot of books on the subject, it's not over-complicated, doesn't assume you know the difference between a cucurbits and a Solanaceae and lets you get involved on any level - 'From window boxes to small holdings'. You can read it from cover to cover, or flick to the bit you need. Bloody fantastic.

Also, it has great recipes for all your produce (I've already made a batch of cupcakes, banana bread and a carrot cake).

There is a slight problem - because we're moving house, I can't justify going into the allotment and planting lots of  fruit and vegetables, so I'm just using everything up! I am using eggs from our chickens though, so that's something! 

All this baking, together with Meryl Streep's portrayal of Julia Child in Julie & Julia, has given me inspiration in the kitchen. Grilled mushroom served with spicy Moroccan cous cous, spinach and peppers made a delicious lunch, even if I say so myself (I'd never cooked a mushroom before and was bloody proud!)

I buy/eat a stupidly vast amount of salad, but most of it goes all soggy and gross within a day, so mum bought a living salad. Basically, it's fully grown lettuce, rocket etc. that you can keep on your windowsill and trim when you need salad - fresh! Because it's already grown, it'll only last 10 days though, so I'm going to plant my own salad and chillies from scratch. As Julia would say; 'BON APPETIT!' 

 (Apparently appetit has two P's... otherwise it says Ape Tit.)

So I'm guessing I've bored you enough with all my country bumpkin talk... Photography it is then!

I need ideas for photo shoots I can do own my own - lots of people do 365 (a photo a day, duh) but I don't have the ability to keep stuff like that going! Some people do F-friday, (take a pic of something beginning with F every friday), I was going to try and do some including sign language, or  use one object in a series of shoots... I don't know. Let me know if you have any ideas!

TTFN 

F xx

ps. Sister just put Bridget Jones on, I could not be happier!! Even if my legs do only go up to here...