To autumn around Belfast

What if "autumn" was a verb as well as a noun? If I talked about "springing" around Belfast that would have all sorts of energetic, full of life connotations that would not be inappropriate at all.

Well, despite the much lamented by me lack of blogging,we have been autumning around the city since last I typed, and it has all generally been very nice. We manged to get to the David Hockney exhibition before it closed, although I think the (three) boys were most impressed by the view of St Anne's Square from inside the Mac. That is actually my favourite part too!

Hockney has very special significance for me. I'm afraid it's less to do with his undoubted genius and more to do with the weeks my aunt and godmother summered me round London and its exhibitions. It was also very, very lovely to see some of the iPad work that Catherine and I saw on our Utter Jolly to Biarritz and the Guggenheim, Bilbao a few years ago.

Is this Hockney's mother? I very much identified with the slightly slumped resignation. Maybe the good lady wasn't feeling a bit weary, but as the autumn pulls on the rope towards dark and cold, I am certainly starting to flag!

 Last week at Hookery we had a very special night, because of an on-going and hitherto top secret special project. I didn't get much further than the chaise longue!

And so to last weekend. Brisk and bracing walk along Belfast Lough. The engineer inspects the machinations of a new fountain installation.

The boys carried their penny boards (penny boards?) in between places of sufficiently smooth, flat surfaces for a decent whatever the word would be. Look at the height of those boys!

I wondered if Sandra will be able to spot her wind turbines on the other side of the Lough? It should certainly be a familiar sight to Kezzie! I'm afraid I've only ever sailed it on a car ferry, and not on one of the luxurious cruise liners that still make us smile wryly at the benefits of The Peace.

This is Hazelbank Park- which has a little avenue of fruit trees: apples and pears. The boys were most disgruntled at finding traces of fermenting fruit under their feet. I am sure that this attention to new shoes will not last.

Prince Charming did some foraging, and we'd need to get some stewing done before we have some fermenting of our own. Not that would necessarily be a bad thing either...

And that is probably the height of it- except of course that the main event has not yet been covered. I keep waiting for the perfect moment to overwhelm me, but it never comes. So, Sandra's wonderful, lovely jaunt North as part of her recent trip to Ireland will have to push its way through the domestic mire very soon. What a fabulous weekend it was!

And so there we go. Mise had a truly beautiful piece on how much less blogging there is around now. I wish I was still blogging lots and lots. There is just so very little of interest here to share. It's all two boys at Big School now and the homework that it entails, and it entails a lot. It's having to have a list to remind you of what laundry to do when, and what nights to think about PE kit, Games kit, violin, guitar, Drama. It's always knowing that there is so much more you could be doing for x and y and z. It's about never ever ever getting around to making more leaves for the autumn garland, tidying my room, or applying more moisturiser!

It's mundane and it's domestic and it's so non-photogenic! That's how I autumn just now! You'll have to imagine the gorgeous golden light in the gorgeous golden trees and the gorgeous golden heads of my boys busying away on the floor, because Mum is at the desk.

Happy October!

1st September

 Well, here we go- or rather here we have gone. We're all back to school. New black shoes have veiled their pristine shine with grass. The alarm clock remembers what it is to ring in vain. Timetables are tacked to shelves filling nicely now with folders and books. The season has turned!

 Would somebody with agricultural authority tell my pear tree that the season has turned. A bit of mellow fruitfulness, please. The poor thing is definitely being rehoused soon in a much more sensible spot.

 Can you see the raindrops chatting to the daisy heads? If I was Pom Pom, they would be bathed in sunshine, despite the rain. End of summer in the Frozen North- chilly mornings and evenings, chilly afternoons now too.

 We love our chestnut tree. Look at all the conkers groaning. There will be a carpet of fun soon to cheer them up soon.

 While we worked with the silks on Monday, some Corrymeela volunteers looked after our children. They were so good at finding dreamy things for them to do too. Jo's dreamcatcher is going up to his bedroom soon- as he is rightly points out, that's where he does his dreaming.

We haven't quite decided where my dream is going. Kitchen or book room? Prince Charming says I should hang it where I do most of my dreaming. Tough choice!

Dreaming in silk

On Bank Holiday Monday, Catherine and I ran a creative retreat up at Corrymeela. Silk artist, Pauline Edmiston, who works with the Church of Scotland, used the silks to lead us through a reflection on our dreams and prayers in the morning, and then we made our own individual silk piece after lunch. It was an extraordinary day. Lots of photos below, but here is a link to our Hookery blog where Heather writes of her experiences on the day. I can't put it any better.

Crusty Lemon Butter Bake

Mags has asked me to guest blog here, so...

A couple of weeks ago I needed to bring a cake to a friend's. I fancied some lemon cake so I dug out my favourite drizzle recipe. It has to be one of the easiest cake recipes I have and was very kindly given to me 31 years ago by one of the grandmothers of my boyfriend at the time, Gran Caster.

Crusty Lemon Butter Bake was the title of the recipe and although it is a drizzle it will always be a Crusty Lemon Butter Bake to me.



The following week Mags visited and I whipped it up again, and you can tell from her comments in previous blog posts she quite enjoyed it. I'm not sure if Mary & Paul would have been happy to have this produced for the signature bake in this week's GBBO as it is so simple  - but I know they would have enjoyed eating it.

I'm considering a Gin & Lime topping, but haven't tried it yet.

So here is the recipe in all its simple glory:

Crusty Lemon Butter Bake – Gran Caster

Cake

6oz /170g  butter

6oz/ 170g caster sugar

2 eggs

6oz / 170g SR flour

Topping

4oz / 115g caster sugar

Juice of 1 lemon 

Method

1. Preheat oven to 180⁰C/ 160⁰C  fan/ 350⁰F / GM4
2. butter and line 14” x 9” tin (flatter with more crunchy topping) or 8” square (deeper cake)
3. Melt butter in large bowl
4. stir in sugar
5. beat eggs in separate bowl
6. stir eggs into butter/sugar mix with flour – don’t over mix
7. tip into tin bake for 40 mins
8. dissolve caster sugar in lemon juice
9. spread lemon paste over top of hot sponge
10. leave in tin til cold, cut into 16 squares

 Happy Baking

A promise of a recipe

The wonderful Niqi has agreed to do a guest post- and what a perfect time to talk about lemon drizzle cake, with that first episode of the new Great British Bake Off series kicking off with all those very extremely interesting drizzles.

Niqi is just as interested as me in the G & T version... She will be with you very soon!

One Last More

This nicely constructed photo was taken today for facebook, where all is aligned and presentable. To the top right of this shot was a tent with camping chairs, homemade crochet blanket, scatter cushions and Trangia where we cooked our lunch in the hot summer sun. What you can't see are the wasps and boys begging to be allowed back inside to the cool and the X-Box.

One last more day of my summer holidays- I am back for staff days tomorrow."One last more" was what the boys always wanted at the park. One last more run around, one last more climb, one last more go on the rope thing that turns. We still say it now, mostly Prince Charming and I now that they are grown and cool and X-Boxed.

Last week we also experienced some sunny sun. It's not a summer requirement here in the Frozen North, and we do like to pounce on it with shorts and a determination to be outside. I dragged drove the boys all around Strangford Lough last Tuesday, starting our newly re-opened Aquarium. They have cleverly incorporated the area's Viking history into the first few rooms- Strangford is Old Norse for strong fjord. We were all of us, even the teenager, impressed. Exploris is right at the tip of the Ards Peninsula and the best thing to do next is to take the little car ferry across the Narrows to Strangford village.

This little ferry powers across the  lough. Because we were the lucky last car on, we couldn't see ahead, so we jumped out of the car to watch Portaferry surging away behind us. Prince Charming doesn't usually let us out because the crossing is so short, but the sunny sun was sunny and the holidays were coming to this end, and out we popped. Mattman was standing right in front of me, leaning back into a less and less frequent public hug, and I told him that this would be the last summer when he would be shorter than me. Another one last more!

Then next Tuesday, Jo will join his older brother at Big School. This has been his one last more summer as a Primary School boy. Goodness, how poignant has it all been! One last more cup of tea before bed, methinks- or maybe I should find some of my school clothes...

My friend, Niqi, and two lemon cakes

I have a very talented friend called Niqi. Only one her most recent accomplishments, meaning those accomplished in the last week, can be seen here. This is a shot from a week or so ago of Niqi working on said shawl. She is surrounded by some of my most recent works in on-going and interminable progress. In the time it has taken her to finish the shawl- completed yesterday just as I arrived for a well needed cuppa, I have made zero, none, absolutely nothing in the way of progress on any of them.

In the time that it has taken her to complete her shawl I have admittedly been away on my parents' annual holiday week. Six of us to be fed, managed and entertained. It was a harder week this week than the last two years. I have decided that the deciding factor is the fact that I am older!

When I arrived chez elle hier for a much needed cuppa, Niqi had bone china cuppas, a pot of Lady Grey, and a plate of Niqi's Non-Grandmother-In-Law's Crunchy Lemon Drizzle Cake. She got the recipe from the grandmother of an ex-boyfriend. This lady liked her so much, and Niqi liked her Crunchy Lemon Drizzle so much, that the lovely lady bestowed upon Niq the recipe. I don't know what happened to the ex-boyfriend. Maybe Niqi will tell us in a comment...

Anyway, Niqi told me the recipe yesterday because, when Niqi makes it, this is the best lemon drizzle cake that you will eat. And because she likes me. So I have this evening attempted Niqi's Non-Grandmother-In-Law's Crunchy Lemon Drizzle Cake. It is not going to be the best lemon drizzle cake you will eat. I think, in fact, that I can guarantee that you will not be eating it, and the non-eating will have nothing at all to do with geography.

Niqi says she doesn't time or skewer a cake. She listens. Now that should have been my warning sign. Only the truly accomplished can listen to a cake. In much the same way as only the truly accomplished whisper to a horse. (Niqi did do dog-whispering when training Blanco.) I cannot listen to a cake. When the cake stops making noises, Niqi says, it is cooked. I couldn't hear my cake over the fan oven, but when I took it out to have a listen the centre caved. So I baked it some more.

It is making noises now- it is hugely noisy now that all the lemon drizzle has gone on and through. And I can smell it now too. For me that is the sign that something is cooked. You can smell it. Excuse me then, as I must cut this rivetting post short and race back to the kitchen. Perhaps I shall brew some Lady Grey...