Cornflower

Cornflower Book Group 2009: Volumes 11 & 12

     "Floating upward through a confusion of dreams and memory, curving like a trout through the rings of previous risings, I surface. My eyes open. I am awake."

And -

"My dear wife Carrie and I have just been a week in our new house ... a nice six-roomed residence, not counting basement, with a front breakfast-parlour."

These are the opening lines of the book group's November and December titles respectively. To find out more click here.

The PhD of clothes

    While looking for something else, I came across this article (though its advice must now be so last year...) which says that if you've cracked the pashmina you can graduate on to other scarves, "successful scarf-wearing being the PhD of clothes" - though it helps to be Debo or Marilyn Monroe!

 

Natural textiles

 

Rowan berries in real life,

and as the textile designer renders them (more information here).

My mushroom caps are seen from above,

while these are shown from below.

And leaves,

 

or the world as seen by a bird in the treetops!

You can find more Marimekko fabrics here.

Ripping yarns

     "There's more to knitting than getting it right first time, and not everyone can learn quickly. But adventures with yarn can be rewarding, soothing, creative and pleasing, and knitting is a skill most definitely worth acquiring."

So writes Jane Brocket in the 'Learn to Knit' section of her magical book Ripping Things to Do, and she cites My Naughty Little Sister Does Knitting by Dorothy Edwards as an example as the little girl knits a scarf for Mr. Cocoa Jones "who is the perfect recipient of her coaly, floury, multicoloured knitting and isn't in the slightest bit worried about the holes."

    I don't think Bernie the St. Bernard pictured here was bothered about any irregularities in the tiny scarf Harriet knitted for him a few years ago. Seeing me knit for the first time in ages, both my daughters wanted to have a go, so I took them to a yarn shop to choose their materials (and that was an experience in itself as they were bowled over by all the colours and textures), I showed them the basics and they got going. Harriet made the dog's scarf and has picked up the needles a few times since, but if she's anything like me when I was young, she'll have phases of enthusiasm for the craft, and that's fine - who knows what she'll do with it in the future.

   In her book, Jane goes on to give some practical advice for the beginning (or resuming) knitter, whether adult or child, most importantly that it's better to be taught by "patient demonstration" (my granny taught me when I was small), which failing, look at the how-to videos on the internet. Seeing someone else fashioning even the simplest thing from yarn and needles provides a strong creative impulse; in my experience, that's not be underestimated!

Breakfast table

 

    Having been to look round the new John Hope Gateway building at the RBGE we planned to try the restaurant at the first opportunity, and as their breakfast menu looked particularly tempting, scarcely had the doors opened yesterday when we were there.

   The table at which we sat was inscribed 'Elm (ulmus glabra)', the Wych elm or Scots elm; a neighbouring one was Ash, another Sycamore, and so on, the timber for the furniture all coming from trees felled in the four gardens (Edinburgh, Logan, Dawyck and Benmore) which make up the RBG

That was the table, but what was on it?

 

Scotch pancakes, Ayshire bacon, maple syrup, and good coffee.

A. A. Gill says in Breakfast at The Wolseley, "Breakfast is a meal apart...It doesn't have courses or an order; it isn't prescriptively sweet or savoury; there is no generally accepted sense of its length or constituent parts. It's bespoke, tailor-made to you: a private meal or habit. Breakfast is the most personal and idiosyncratic construction .... It is the most intimate of meals, a euphemism, a glance and a sly smile."

Doesn't that make you view it in a whole new light?

(For The Wolseley itself, click here).

Petrified forest

     The leafless, lichened branches of a rhododendron, 'Coronation Lady'.

Pudding cake

   I love pudding cakes and puddingy cakes - dense and moist and slightly squidgy, good warm with cream or custard or cold with coffee or tea. They are the sort of cakes I make most often and they tend not to linger long as everyone seems to share my taste for them.

    Here's another: Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's Apple and Almond Pudding Cake from River Cottage Everyday (I'm enjoying this book very much having so far tried the brownies and the sausage and root vegetable casserole - just the thing for this time of year). But back to the cake. You gently soften the dessert apples in butter, sugar and cinnamon, then make a sponge mixture enriched with ground almonds.

 

   Arranging the apples on top of the sponge, drizzle over them all the buttery pan juices and bake for around 45 minutes (it took only 30 low down in the Aga's baking oven, but mine is pretty fast).

 

Serve in thick slices!

At the garden gate

     We are regular visitors to Edinburgh's Royal Botanic Gardens, and have watched with interest as their John Hope Gateway building has been constructed over the last two years or so. It is now open and we've been to take a look.

The building houses exhibition areas (the Wych Elm exhibition is full of beautiful things), audio-visual displays, a shop with outdoor plant sales area, and we're looking forward to trying the restaurant, reached by a rather striking spiral staircase:

 

The exterior includes a large terrace, and I love the use of stone and wood:

 
While in time there will be a biodiversity garden next to the building, for now there is a wild flower meadow featuring ....

O my goodness!

    Do you remember the 'O'? Follow the links here to discover what it is now a small part of. I'm very pleased it's that!

Persephone books and cakes

     Regular readers will know that every month around Book Group time I bake for our 'virtual afternoon tea', making something lifted straight from whatever we've been reading or inspired by it in some way.

     Today, I'm doing what we hope will be a regular feature along the same lines, another bit of 'outside catering' for Dovegreyreader, and for anyone who'd love to take part in the Teatime Reading Group at Persephone Books' Lamb's Conduit Street shop in London but can't make it in person. DGR is talking about the book over on her site, while I've donned my pinny and have the kettle on the Aga all ready for you here.

     The book in question is the Classic edition of Good Evening, Mrs. Craven, The Wartime Stories of Mollie Panter-Downes; it is one of my favourite Persephone titles and I recommend it unreservedly. I've chosen the story The Hunger of Miss Burton (first published in January 1943) as my prompt for the 'cake': the eponymous Miss Burton, whose meagre diet makes her think constantly of food, looks forward to her Saturday afternoon trips out of the school at which she teaches to " a bogus Elizabethan café in the High Street".

 

   "...she crossed the road quickly to the orange-shaded warmth of Ye Olde Tudor Café. She sat there for an hour or more, spinning out her order of hot chocolate and scones, glancing ironically at the pictures of well-fed people in the Tatler. 'The Lady Marigold Taggart-Bly leads an austere life at her cottage in the country.' A week at St. Ermin's, my girl, and you'd know all about austerity.....She asked for a second order of scones and ate them to the last crumb with deliberate, enjoyable greed."

 

No hot chocolate for us today, just a cup of Earl Grey, 'Lily's Scones' from Nigella (and they are very good indeed!) and some mulberry preserve. I think Miss Burton would have felt quite satisfied.

  

Turning over a new leaf

     Reading Sarah's post of two days ago got me thinking about changing the way I do things, because like Sarah, there is a lot I have to do and want to do and trying to fit it all in isn't easy (perfectionist tendencies don't help, either!). At this point I ought to say that if you've emailed me and haven't had a reply, I do apologise but I have a backlog, and other things have had to take precedence.

   I'm cutting this short and asking for advice - which will no doubt be of benefit to more than just me: what's the trick to time-management, or balancing all the calls on our time and the many commitments, from work to domestic ones? Have you turned over a new leaf and become more productive, or less stressed? Have you read a book which has helped particularly? Are you constantly spinning plates, trying to keep everything going - as I am doing - or have you learned how to put some of those plates down so that the rest get proper attention? If you're not too busy, it would be great to hear your thoughts!

   By the way, I found the leaf still damp with dew, but its colour was so vivid that I had to pick it up and bring it home. It's dry and papery now, curled in on itself. Turned over.

Later: thankyou to everyone who has commented on this post and given such good advice and suggestions. I really appreciate it!

     

Fireside

    The first fire of the season!

    I put down my book (though it was very appropriate for a cold evening), took up my knitting and for once we watched some television - pretty rare for me. All I lacked was special hot chocolate. Next time...

As to fireside reading - what do you think that should be?

The Cornflower Book Group

     Anyone wanting to find out a bit about the CBG might care to read this short post.

And as for this ...

 
 

... just call it a swatch (any resemblance to the cuff of a sock is purely coincidental).

I was intending only to see how the yarn worked when knitted, so I slung the skein round my neck and got going. Having reached the point you see above, I had to decide what to do next so I took the other end of the yarn and some more needles and cast on to try out a particular stitch pattern. I must have looked quite odd, draped in lengths of merino and attached to two lots of knitting, but the experiment told me what I wanted to know, I've rattled back the tiny experimental piece and the sock swatch continues. The colours remind me of a pheasant's plumage.

Nor does this

 

     Well, it says in Knitting Socks with Handpainted Yarn that you should choose your pattern according to the degree of colour variation in your yarn, and to avoid pooling you should have special regard to the length of each colour section, so I had to unwind a length of the skein in order to do that, and then it made sense to cast on sixty stitches to see what would happen on the needles. Just being prudent.