Cornflower

Bess

     On Saturday morning our much-loved dog Bess reached the end of her life.

We had twelve very happy years with her and her importance as part of our family can't be overstated.

In the early days of Cornflower I wrote this about our dogs: 

     The affection, unconditional approval and companionship which they give us are a source of comfort, amusement, entertainment and delight in a sometimes trying, harsh world. They are constant in their devotion, eager to please and always in a good mood. Unlike people, they don't ask for much, and they unfailingly show their gratitude. We are lucky to have them.

We were indeed lucky to have Bess. We miss her very much.

Books and cakes - 32

   

   

     "Stephen's mother always made us a beautiful Midsummer cake - the whole family got some of it, but Rose and I never let others join in our rites on the mound ..."

        What might Cassandra's cake have been? Food doesn't feature much in I Capture the Castle (and the family are actually often hungry) so there wasn't a lot to go on. Spoilt potato cakes and burnt porridge are hardly appetising, but happily the Cottons provide better fare for the impoverished Mortmains, including peaches they've sent over from Scoatney.

    The fruit was the key for today's cake, and although here at the end of August we are two months past the longest day, we can still enjoy something redolent of that season; peaches are ripe, blueberries are easily found, so Nigel Slater's 'cake for midsummer' it is.

  It could have been strewn with rose petals, as Nigel sometimes favours and Cassandra might quite like, but it's very good, just as it is (as is the book, I think!).

Up, up and away?

     A very generous friend has given us the gift of a flight in a hot-air balloon. Mr. C. is raring to go, while I - though I like the idea of it - am not sure how I'd take to it in practice. I am quite happy flying in planes but I feel very uncomfortable in cable cars and the like and I'm worried that the balloon would be similar to that, that I'd get up about thirty feet and want to come straight down.

    I've just read a book which includes a balloon ride, and while one character loved the experience, the other most definitely did not. Have you ever done it? Would you recommend it? All advice gratefully received!

For whom the bell tolls

 

 

     This is the Time and Tide Bell at Bosta on the small island of Bernera, off Lewis. As that link will tell you, it's part artwork, part data-recording apparatus and is one of a series of such bells to be situated around the British coast.

    When we were at Bosta two weeks ago we arrived when the tide was more or less at its highest point and we were very taken by the bell and its quite eerie, mournful ring - think of La cathédrale engloutie and the legend of Ys. As we swam (or, in the case of the one without a costume, photographed the wild flowers) and picnicked, so the tide receded until the bell could be reached on foot across the skerries and its music had stopped, but I'm so glad we were there in time to hear it.

    (And here for good measure is Donne's poem).

Talking of cowls ...

... as we were the other day, I spotted these very pretty ones

 

in More Last-Minute Knitted Gifts by Joelle Hoverson, which is just out.

The pattern for the 'soft as a cloud cowls' (3 versions) is written for a cashmere yarn which looks to be about the same weight as my alpaca. They feature in the 'more-than-eight-hour-gifts' section, so at the rate I work that'll be about five years.

I tried to interest my daughters in the 'pointy elf hat' shown on the cover (sizes baby to large adult), but despite Alice's observation that wearing one would make Harriet look taller, neither was over-keen.

I jest, of course, and must say that there many other lovely items in the book which my girls and I would happily wear or use.

In those days ...

"... the Majestic was still standing in Kilnalough at the very end of a slim peninsula covered with dead pines leaning here and there at odd angles. At that time there were probably yachts there too during the summer since the hotel held a regatta every July. These yachts would have been beached on one or other of the sandy crescents that curved out towards the hotel on each side of the peninsula. But now both pines and yachts have floated away and one day the high tide may very well meet over the narrowest part of the peninsula, made narrower by erosion. As for the regatta, for some reason it was discontinued years ago, before the Spencers took over the management of the place.  And a few years later still the Majestic itself followed the boats and preceded the pines into oblivion by burning to the ground - but by that time, of course, the place was in such a state of disrepair that it hardly mattered." 

    So begins the Cornflower Book Group's September book. Here are all the details, and I hope you'll come and join us in reading it.

Friday flowers - machair

     "In summer, the grass on the cliff-tops is thick with flowers: bog asphodel and bog pimpernel; branched orchids, the stars of tormentil and milkwort. 'Under such skies can be expected no great exuberance of vegetation,' Dr. Johnson wrote, but this miniature spangle of Hebridean flora, never protruding its yellows and deep purples more than an inch or two above the turf, is a great and scarcely regarded treasure. I think of it when in England I walk on expensive Persian rugs; the same points of dense, discreet colour, the same proportion of ground to decoration; a sudden flash of the Hebrides in a rich man's rooms. It is a private signal to me, a bleeping underfoot, winking through the burr of conversation and offered drinks: Remember me."

     That passage is from Adam Nicolson's book Sea Room, his 'biography' of the three Shiant islands (which lie between Lewis/Harris and Skye). The pictures were taken beside the beach at Bosta on Great Bernera, off Lewis. For more on machair flowers click here. 

Yarn in the garden, Lewis style

    This is yarn and it was photographed in a 'garden' - well, strictly speaking 14,000 acres of Hebridean wilderness, but who would not use a location like that as a backdrop if they got the chance?

 

    The yarn was an unexpected but greatly appreciated present from a friend. It is all alpaca and was bought at Spring Farm Alpacas (they don't appear to do mail order but are nonetheless a very interesting site - agistment caught my eye, though I think they are a bit too far, sadly!). Anyway, to business and what we have here is white suri 2 ply (100g), brown huacaya 2 ply (100g) and fawn huacaya dk (150g), all wonderfully soft. I don't have yardages but what would you suggest making with it? A lace shawl or scarf, perhaps; maybe a cowl? It deserves to be something special.

Harris tweed - 2

     With the exception of the picture top left (which was part of an exhibition at An Lanntair arts centre, Stornoway), all these were taken at Carloway Mill on Lewis where we had a tour and an introduction to the various processes involved in the making of Harris tweed. You'll see there the raw wool (washed), the dyeing key for matching, colours gathered together according to the recipe for a given shade, part of the complex spinning procedure, another piece of machinery (and much of it was of quite an age) whose use I have forgotten, and then some bolts of the finished cloth. Just a quick note on finishing, we saw a length of tweed being prepared for despatch, and before folding it was brushed with a switch of some plant material.

  Naturally, I felt a small purchase was in order, so I bought a couple of pieces, the colours those of the clouds reflected in the waters of the loch; (I think they are destined to be cushions in the more prosaic setting of my study).

Harris tweed - 1

 

   If you've followed the blog for a while you may remember this post from last year when in Lewis/Harris we visited Garynahine Harris Tweed and met Mr. John MacLean, weaver of this fabulous material and a most welcoming man. As one of our party bought a length of Mr. MacLean's tweed on that occasion, this year we returned to show off the finished jacket and to see what is currently on the Garynahine loom.

    Above are shots of the work in progress, while the next two pictures show more of the range of colours and patterns in which the tweed comes.

    Below are some close-ups of the finished jacket (the model himself is far too 'shy' to appear in long-shot!). I love the complexity of the colours and their subtle blending.

 

 

     Having seen the weaving part of the tweed-making process, we then went to the mill where all the other stages of manufacture take place; I'll show you something of that in the next post.

The loch

at dusk,

and in the morning,

in the rain (that's Mr. C at his favourite pastime - and note his lady ghillie doing all the work),

when it's still,

and with the mist just lifting.

   We've been in this idyllic spot on the Hebridean island of Lewis again; being back in 'the real world' takes a bit of adjustment.

Friday flowers

Thalictrum delavayi -

looking both ways.

 

There's a close-up from last year here, but what you don't see in the pictures is that this plant (self-sown) is hard by our dustbins and provides partial but pretty camouflage for them!

Somewhat astonished

.... to see where we are on this!

What's in a name?

     "I share your dislike of the shortening of names but I must say that I'm not sure 'Alexandra' is entirely suitable for you. It seems to me that you require a name with rather more brio. I see you as a 'Lexie'. What do you think?"

    That passage comes from Maggie O'Farrell's The Hand That First Held Mine, and when I read it last night I felt a post coming on. We did talk about names a while ago, but I think we're allowed to re-visit the subject three years on! So, do you like your name? Have you shortened it or changed it - informally? Is there a name you wish you could use for a child or an animal? Any thoughts on nicknames? 

 
"That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet", but I've yet to discover whether 'Alexandra' is more or less fragrantly a 'Lexie'. No doubt all will be revealed soon.

Elevensestime

    I've recently discovered the very friendly and (virtually) delicious 'Elevensestime' tweets on Twitter, so here's my contribution today, in real time and in pictures.

    This is Banana Cake from The Thrifty Cookbook by Kate Colquhoun, the perfect use for a couple of over-ripe bananas. As the author says, "this is a failsafe sweet and sticky loaf cake made in a bowl with a fork and no sophistication whatsoever", and she's right! Harriet mixed up a batch last night, and I can see a repeat performance happening today as it's utterly fuss-free and very good.

It may look plain but it's actually very tasty, and for variation Kate Colquhoun suggests adding some chocolate chunks, or ground mixed spice, or cinnamon with chopped walnuts or pecans.

    I'm off to have another slice with my coffee. Enjoy your elevenses, whatever you're having.