Deeply depressing

It’s been a depressing few days since Trump Mark II was elected, and I’ve kept away from social media and news sites (even my beloved Guardian) for fear of falling into a deep and gloomy hole. It’s clearly going to take a while longer. Emergency cheering-up procedures have centred round food: I admit to a self-indulgent Worcester Burger Shop delivery, and there’s making scones (and I put clotted cream on the Waitrose order), an apple Charlotte, a full roast-pork-with-crackling dinner last night … Having the wood stove lit over the weekend was also good.

Most unusually for me, I didn’t observe the Silence either yesterday on Remembrance Sunday (10th), or today on Armistice Day (11th), though I have as usual been wearing the White Poppy from All Souls’ Day onwards. There’s a whole area of thinking about death and destruction which is starting to seem more imminent again: Trump, Putin, Chinese expansionism. I know that my generation is historically exceptional in having avoided living through a war that had direct domestic impacts, but I’m increasingly concerned that we may yet see one.

As distraction, there have been Green Party newsletters. Lots and lots of them, including two batches for Bromsgrove. In fact, I’ve done nearly 17,000 over the last ten days, at around three hours a day. I’ll think about asking for them to be a bit more spread out in future! Still, it’s been the kind of thing that requires enough attention to stop me ruminating, without actually being mentally demanding, so that’s all good. And I’ve taken the plunge to “upgrade” both laptops and the upstairs desktop to Windows 11 – a more mentally demanding task!  However, it’s necessary if I’m going to successfully sync data on the newer, more powerful, but much bigger Thinkpad to the elderly T460s, which has been a struggle to keep going but is more convenient. The plan is to have both in simultaneous use for as long as the old one holds out.

On a more positive note, the assorted “any time but Christmas” cacti have been flowering profusely, and the winter jasmine outside the French window is magnificent (and there’s some in a vase indoors – just about the only flower still going).

garden bits

The leaves are off the Black Pear, though still hanging on on the Deacon’s tree. I’ve picked the remaining Black Pear – those that had escaped gales, codling moth, and bird pecks – and stored them on the slats in the shed.

The badger is clearly active at the moment- latrine holes in the former courgette bed, and in the heap of soil it’s excavated from the former compost bin.

Other garden work was to pull up the last of the decaying courgettes, and take down almost everything that had bamboo frameworks to climb up – that’s the runner beans, and two sets of sweet peas. I’ve cut the top off the Morning glory, but otherwise left it, as there are still plenty of flowers each day. Three figs look as though they might possibly ripen, though the fig leaves are yellow and falling, so I’ve brought the fruit in and stuck them under cover with a banana – more in hope than expectation.

So, mainly a bit of tidying up in the unexpected sunshine. Only an hour’s work, but I’m still getting very breathless and weak after rather little exertion – the respiratory infection that started over five weeks ago has not yet fully cleared up. Indoors, I had a Homefire delivery of heat logs and kindling early in the week, which I put away in the cupboard yesterday, as I had to have the Riso out for printing. Today saw a small delivery from Lekto, of what they call “night briquettes”, compressed bark supposed to burn for up to eight hours. It’s an experiment, but I do have the problem after the stove has been going for several hours of the room starting to get too hot! Mock-coal briquettes aren’t really an answer, as they need wood with them or they go out.

And today is the last “light” day. Back to GMT and darkness, if not at noon, certainly at teatime. Ugh! Winter season food: there’s a large casserole of Boston Baked Beans in the oven, to have with Brussel sprouts.

Autumnal day

Among the colourfulness of the autumn leaves, it’s easy to see why it’s called “The Black Pear of Worcester”. The wind’s getting up, and will probably strip the leaves, but the pears usually hang on until I pick them in November, to be stored until ready for eating in March.

I was in danger of falling behind my target of two meat-free days a week. I’m not very fond of Quorn mince – it’s rather tasteless, and is of course ultra-processed food. However, in a well-reduced tomato sauce, with garlic, a branch of thyme, and a little smoked paprika, it makes an OK foundation for a veggie lasagne. The first picking of leaves from the winter lettuce was a good accompaniment. Leftover quorn lasagne tomorrow, and two portions to go in the freezer.

I’ve picked the last few Annie-Elizabeth apples, so for later there’s apple dunfillan – a nod to the Scottish influence in my family. Although it’s something that I was brought up with, most people – including most Scots, I think – have never heard of it. However, it’s something I like to make once or twice a year as a filling autumn/winter pudding.



turning the corner …

Having woken at 6am and got up, I was feeling so grim that I went back to bed at 1030, and didn’t wake until about 1300. A massive change – I think I’ve turned the corner after nearly a week of this lurgy. Temperature close to normal, headache diminished, coughing and snottiness reduced, and not feeling completely incapable, though it’s been a question of “doing things” for twenty minutes followed by resting for 40 minutes!

Glorious sunshine this afternoon, which meant that I could have doors and window open, boiling up pickling vinegar while picking remaining tomatoes and cutting down the plants. There were very few nearly ripe ones worth putting on the windowsill to see if they change colour, but no problem getting the 3lb of green tomatoes my chutney recipe needs. Plenty of windfall apples to add in, though these are still mainly the ones that have fallen early due to codling moth infestation so need a fair bit cut out before use. The last, glorious, Deacon’s Pear picked to have at supper time – unless severe gales are threatened, I’ll leave the Worcester Black Pears, picking them in November and storing until February/March before use.





autumn cravings

Dark evenings and cold drizzle have triggered a massive carbohydrate craving! My body is clearly trying to store up fat for winter hibernation … and it’s succeeding: 1.5kg (about 3 lb) put on in the last week, which is not good.

I’ve still got the last quarter of a lemon-and-caraway-seed cake to finish, ditto large apple pie (bought pastry, homegrown apples), and the second half of a cottage pie is nearly ready for supper. Sensible diet to resume tomorrow … probably.


runner beans old and new

The runner beans are dying back (partly because I didn’t water them during the recent dry spell). Soon it will be time to bring in the pods to finish drying, hull, and store the beans for winter soups and stews.

Nearly the last of the 2023 beans were soaked overnight, boiled briskly this morning, and will go in the slow cooker as part of a bean/lentil/onion/chorizo stew for tonight.


post-election slump

Post-election slump – I didn’t wake up until nearly midday (and then had a nap of over an hour this afternoon). The rest of the day has been intermittent bits of self-pampering. The first homegrown strawberry this afternoon was fantastic – I’d forgotten how much better homegrown is than shop-bought. I fancied a crema catalana for pudding – sadly, I had no oranges so made do with clementines (as walking the hundred yards to the shop did not appeal) with lemon.

Election day – ii (domestic interlude)

Just after the last set of elections – the local ones on 2nd May – I got around to getting decently acquainted with my 3D printer. Having lost my previous strawberries in the notoriously-waterlogged Worcester winter, I decided to print some strawberry towers. The first one was planted up on 12th May (details here), followed by two others.

It’s now a bare two months later. The first tower – the “early” ones – is laden with fruit that is rapidly approaching ripeness. I’m delighted, and it’s unexpected, as strawberries generally don’t do brilliantly in their first year.