Midsummer Rain

When it rains throughout the weekend of the summer solstice you can:

• Make a Victoria sandwich cake.
• Go to your local bookshop for coffee, cake and new books.*
• Buy yet more peonies.
• Finish the border on a crochet throw.
• Go to York for the day; stroll around the streets in a raincoat, admire the Minster, have a very nice lunch out, frighten yourself stupid on The Wheel of York (think: heights, high winds and a very flimsily built capsule) then decide to buy divine smelling soap based purely upon the appeal of it's name from here.
• Play with arrangements on the mantle piece.
• Buy self-tanning moisturiser.
• Block the crochet throw.
• Lament the lateness of the strawberries this year.

Well it would be boring if the weather behaved itself, wouldn't it? And today Wimbledon starts so, like many other British folk, I will become tennis obsessed for the next fortnight despite ignoring the sport's existence for the fifty other weeks of the year. 

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* Our Songbirds is mine, a delightful little treat of a book full of enchanting illustrations and witty, affrectionate descriptions. Handmade Glamping is Mum's. I don't have a tent or a caravan and no plans to buy either, despite the seductivly styled, fairy lit depictions of camping throughout the book.

52 Weeks of Happy...36/52

The happiest people don't have the best of everything, they just make the best of everything.

It's Friday and it's time for my usual round-up of happy moments from the last seven days. So, joining in with the lovely Jen at little birdie, here are this week's happies.

1. Popcorn and Point Break. Was it really twenty two years since that film came out? What a trip down memory lane.

2. Father's Day crafting. It was a quiet affair as John was working all day, but if you could measure love with card, loo roll tubes and sellotape, then he is beloved.

3. John made macaroons. Amazing. Little sticky-crunchy bites of coconutty heaven.

4. Bella. This sweet, sweet girl. She comes home from school with certificates, stickers, pictures and stories. She sits at her desk in her pyjamas before it's time for bed and makes cards that, inside, say things like "To Dad. I have made you a card. Love Bella". She is thriving at school and suddenly, seemingly overnight, can just read and read, fluently and confidently. I won't downplay it or shrug it off - she makes me so proud I could burst.

I hope you all have a lovely weekend. My parents are staying with us and while we don't have much planned as the weather forecast is not great, there will be wine and it will be fun. 

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About the lemon curd: I forgot to say that it needs to be stored in the fridge and eaten within two weeks. I'll add that to yesterday's post. And thanks for all your suggestions! Lime, passion fruit, raspberry - oh, yum! I foresee more curd making in my future! 

Lemon Curd

I don't feel that I've had many crafty makes or "ta-da" moments to share with you lately. But I have been creative in the kitchen and the garden over these last few weeks, enjoying things like flowers and jam and cake. And lemon curd.

I avoided making lemon curd until now because I always thought it was really difficult; in my mind it was up there with souffles, pastry, macarons and hollandaise sauce. But it's really easy! Shhh, don't tell anyone.

You need:

4 lemons

100 g/3.5 oz butter, cubed

200 g/7 oz caster sugar

3 eggs plus one extra yolk

• Sterilise your jars.
• Zest and juice the lemons. And while we are on the subject, the smell of a freshly zested lemon is pure heaven, it's up there with newborn babies' heads.
• Bring a pan of water to a steady simmer.
• In a bowl, put the lemon zest and juice, sugar and butter and put this bowl over your pan of water (1).
• Whisk now and then until the butter has melted (2).
• Lightly beat together the three eggs and one yolk and add to the mixture in the bowl.
• Cook for about ten to twelve minutes, stirring regularly but not continuously with your whisk, until it looks and feels like custard and coats the back of a spoon (3).
• Remove from the heat and leave to cool until it's luke warm, giving it a little stir every couple of minutes. 
• Pour into your jars. You should get enough to fill two normal sized jam jars from this amount.

It's so lemony! Much, much sharper than shop bought lemon curd. I love it, as I do anything citrus, but John felt it was "a bit too sharp" and requested orange curd next time. Would I use four oranges to replace four lemons I wonder? I have also been reliably informed that gooseberry curd is excellent. Any other variations I could try?

Edited to add: The lemon curd needs to be stored in the fridge and eaten with two weeks.

And a really big hello to new followers, it's lovely to have you here. Welcome!

Flowering Herbs

Just outside our kitchen door we have an untidy collection of pots filled with herbs. I am lazy and like them nice and handy when I need to use them for cooking. I noticed today how they all appear to be in flower. I don't know if this is because I'm a really good gardener or a really bad one, but all flowers are welcome in our little garden - even dandelions, I love their sunny yellow heads - and I have been enchanted by my accidental flowers. 

Tiny, delicate white petals on the thyme...

a pale blue/lilac flower on the rosemary (I honestly had no idea rosemary flowered)...

...and the chives, which I adore. They are gorgeous in a jug in the kitchen, although they do smell a bit oniony.

The bees like them too.

And now to a bigger, showier version of the chives - alliums. These beauties make me proud and happy every time I look at them. I can't quite believe I grew something so startlingly pretty. This was the first year I planted them and I will plant them every year from now on.

We have absolutely loads of strawberry flowers and high hopes for a little crop of our own this year. 

And little figs! On the fig tree! This is the first time it has produced fruit and I'm rather excited. I'd given up on it to be honest.

And my little helper, Angus, watering his precious sunflower seed. He brought it home from nursery sometime in March or April and we've been tending to it's every need ever since. It's growing nicely and I already can't wait to see the smile on his face when it actually flowers. (I have back-up sunflowers in place, in case we kill that one.)

With every year that goes by I realise how much Bella and Angus like to watch things grow in the garden. Their excitement for tender, bendy rhubarb sticks and strawberry flowers is genuine and infectious and it can only lead me onwards and upwards.

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Thank you for your wonderful, wonderful comments on my last post. Writing about memories can be tricky as they often only resonate with those to whom the memories belong, and those they can share them with. But it seems that lying in bed as a child on a light summer night is something we all share and remember with equal fondness. Sounds and smells also conjure up the same vivid recollections. Pulp's Common People takes me right back the student union in 1996 and the sound of seagulls recalls day trips to Brighton. Give me the smell of mud at low tide and I'm straight back in my middle school playground, only a half a mile from the harbour, and cut grass equals school playing fields at lunchtime and sneezing fits from the pollen. And the smell of tomatoes, freshly picked, still attached to the vine...well, I can feel the heat and humidity of my Grandpa's greenhouse in seconds.

Summer Evening Light

It was the summer of 1988, or maybe 1989. I was nine or ten and shared a bedroom with my sister, Anna. Our room faced the street and it's huge west-facing bay window caught the full glare of the setting sun and the pink curtains gave the room a warm glow. We possibly had wallpaper which was pink with white clouds. That summer the local pub round the corner had a moment when it was the place to be. Every weekend (once Mum and Dad had tucked us in and gone downstairs) we would get out of bed, kneel up at the window and peek out of the curtains to watch people, couples and groups, walking to the pub. They were young, noisy and trendy, laughing and smoking. They stuck out in our quiet, suburban street. I thought they were utterly fascinating. We didn't know anyone like that. We knew children who went to school, played with their Sindy houses and rode their bikes. We knew grown-ups who went to work, went sailing, and had friends round for dinner. We didn't know anyone who went to the pub. 

The next summer it was quiet again.

Lately there are times when I am doing something very everyday with the children and I am taken straight back to a moment from my own childhood, like an echo. We are approaching midsummer and it's very light when the children go to bed and the light pours in around the edges of the black-out curtains, creating slanting patterns and dancing dust. Through the open window we can hear noise and activity - cars going up and down our road, bees, voices talking, birds, the occasional plane overhead. And that memory of going to bed when it was still warm and light outside, of long summers when it was endlessly hot and sunny for weeks at a time, comes back every time like a reflex.

52 Weeks of Happy...35/52

The happiest people don't have the best of everything, they just make the best of everything.

Flowers and parcels seem to be the themes this week. Joining in with lovely Jen at little birdie, here are my happy moments from the past seven days:

1. Dahlias in the pots by the front door. They look so tropical. John and I recently painted the front of our house and I've re-stocked all our pots with fresh plants and planted a row of sunflowers along the front wall. I like to be greeted by cheerful flowers when I walk up to the front door, it makes me feel so much better.

2. A large wool order arrived this week, my biggest splurge yet. 26 balls of Rowan Pure Wool DK  - enough to make a large blanket for our bed, just like the one on the cover of this book. I know it could be made more cheaply with acrylic yarn but there will be hours of work in this blanket and I am in no rush to complete it. I want to enjoy the process, savour the feel of the yarn and cherish it for years to come.

3. The play of light in the shadows and reflections from these bottles of stocks. I know - they were on the coffee table on Wednesday but they were moved sharpish when John discovered that they interfered with perfect remote control positioning and his need to ALWAYS prop his feet up on the table.

4. Another parcel - a giveaway from Leanne of Today's Stuff, a little suitcase packed full with seeds, cards, candles and chocolate. So lovely. Thank you, Leanne. I love that she included some shells; Leanne lives in St Ives and her beautiful photographs or her local beaches feature regularly on her blog and always have me yearning for the sea.

Wishing you all a delightful weekend. Our plans depend on the weather. The sunshine vanished a week ago and we eagerly await it's reappearance. 

Three Things

One: I want to apologise for my altogether whingeing, whining tone yesterday. If life gets too busy I have no-one to blame but myself. I don't work. I am busy with childcare, volunteering, housework, cooking...the stuff of life, things I enjoy. It's just that you caught me in a sulk, when I was feeling tired, irritable and a little bit sorry for myself. Thank you for your lovely supportive words. 

Two: The print I showed you yesterday is by the artist Jeremy Speck and it's called Four Mugs. Fans of the St Ives Movement, Ben Nicholson, Eric Ravilious and Edward Bawden may like his work.

Three: Here is the recipe for the chicken and couscous I mentioned yesterday, and for the yogurt dressing should you want it. Quantities feed four people either as one main meal for four, or as one meal for two followed by salad for two the next day.

• 4 chicken breasts
• 2 tbsp harissa paste
• 2 tbsp plain yogurt
• 200 g plain couscous
• 100 g pomegranate seeds 
• 50 g flaked almonds
• bunch of fresh coriander

A few hours before cooking, put the chicken, harissa paste and yogurt in a freezer bag and mix it all together so that the meat is well coated with both ingredients. Leave in the fridge for a while to marinate. When you're ready to cook, remove the chicken from the fridge, butterfly the meat so it's as flat as possible then heat a little olive oil in a frying pan or skillet. Fry the chicken until it's cooked through, turning regularly. This should take about 15 minutes. While the chicken is cooking boil the kettle. Put your couscous in a large bowl and add 250 ml boiling water and leave it to stand for five minutes so it can soak up the water. Roughly chop the coriander. Then, just before serving, fluff up the couscous with a fork and add the pomegranate seeds, coriander and almonds and mix well.

For the salad, just add any leftover chicken (chopped), salad leaves, maybe some avocado, and toss together. It's really good with this yogurt dressing:

• 250 ml plain yogurt. I find the runnier low fat yogurts make a better dressing than the thicker, Greek styles.
• 1 tbsp chopped fresh mint
• 1 tbsp finely grated or minced cucumber
• 1 tsp lemon juice
• salt and pepper 

Put all your ingredients in a jam jar and shake well or stir with a fork. It will keep in the fridge for three or four days. This is a cross between a dip and a dressing. It's thick enough to be spooned into pitta breads and runny enough to be drizzled over a salad.