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Almost there…

A day old calf at Acton Scott Farm earlier in the year.

Do support National Countryside Week – we owe so much to the countryside and it needs us too!

This week is National Countryside Week and also our last in the Big Smoke. Dear Reader, quite frankly both of these things have been horribly upstaged by the birth of a certain little prince!

Despite the distraction of #RoyalBaby or perhaps my personal favourite Twitter hashtag (from the farming community) #Katescalving, Margot and Jerry HQ is finally a hive of industry as there are only 4 days left in our little corner of suburbia. Jerry’s Lanny (Land Rover) purchased, an extortionate amount of money paid for a parking suspension for the removal lorry, 4 bags of clothes, toys and 6 pairs of shoes to the charity shop……it would seem I am on a roll now! Panicking a little, I phoned the removal company twice just to check that they do actually pack EVERYTHING and to add to the list of jobs done, a new house ration pack has been ordered to arrive on day 2 of the move too. Well, I have to make sure that there is plenty of gin in the cupboard….however even I am now worried about the level of efficiency I have managed to achieve, dear Reader!

To stop myself from getting too carried away with coloured stickers, labels and a nifty floor plan of the new house courtesy of Jerry, I decided that the only way to mark the last week in the Big Smoke was a glass of champagne at The Ritz…..would you expect anything less from Margot?! In 1777, when Mr Johnson wrote “No, Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford“, he was probably supping a small glass of something in a well-known London drinking establishment too! Jerry and I can’t be sad as we have enjoyed so much of what London has to offer for over a decade and the time is certainly right for pastures new. So when the boxes arrive on Wednesday and we leave our dear little cottage for middle of nowhere ruralness on Thursday, I shall be ready for another glass of bubbly. This time though, our surroundings will be somewhat less grand than The Ritz. Jerry and I will be in our new country home and probably drinking our little bottle of fizz from paper cups after the colour coding on boxes will have inevitably gone wrong! I am sure it will be bliss though, dear Reader so….please Thursday, would you oblige this batty townie and hurry on up?! I am looking forward to having to negotiate vehicles like this on the school run in the mornings!

Beats sitting behind a row of cars in town any day!

Two weeks to go!

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Nothing like a bit of flower picking to escape having to pack!

Can you believe it?! We only have two weeks left in the Big Smoke. The countdown is ticking away and I have, so far, lived up to my ‘Last minute Lavinia’ nature or what my dear Mamma lovingly refers to as my ‘ostrich syndrome’. Nothing packed and very little sorting completed. Might have to do something about that pretty sharpish as can’t bear the thought of the removal men packing up my knicker drawer! To my list of achievements (and procrastinations regarding the move) this week I can add the following: talking about sorting through all our clutter (very important to waste time thinking about decluttering before getting on with it) and somehow managing to dye a significant portion of Primrose’s hair green. A lesson for us all, dear Reader: do NOT use a CD/DVD green indelible marker to name a sunhat in haste. Apparently not so permanent if the hat gets wet…

You will be pleased to hear though, dear Reader, that I have managed to somehow brave our hellish furnace of an attic and take some offending items to the charity shop. Unwanted wedding gifts from eight years ago which have moved house twice, a glass chess set from Venice that both Jerry and I have always hated, two Moroccan tea tables…(one can be justified, two is just too much Morocco)! After much debate about whether or not we should keep a car seat for our grandchildren, I realised that I was surprisingly sad about how quickly time has flown by and perhaps that could explain my fondness for avoiding the inevitable! Of late it seems that Jerry, the girls and I have been saying so many goodbyes….

Yet more sorting to sort out..

Sod’s law too, that after 6 years of living in SW London, I discover a rather lovely new friend just as we are about to leave the Big Smoke. I only wish I had met her years ago but maybe then I might never have decided to leave London at all. Her website Life After London is such a fount of knowledge for all those moving and she has helped so many in their quest for the good life, it seems only fitting that I should be added to her list of ‘jobs well done’! I only hope that I do live up to her fabulous remarks about me and manage to fit nicely into the new life waiting for us all. I do hope that she and her rather delicious children will come and visit us very soon to make sure we are doing it right. I have promised not to give her any more jam in the meantime! When Margot met Bee.

With all these lavish farewells I seem to be bidding, there is nothing like the playful chiding of a dear old friend to bring one back down to earth, with a quip of “You’re only moving to Hampshire. It isn’t the moon!” Minty was, of course, entirely correct, dear Reader!! It seems as if the gods agreed with her too and felt the need to put things back into perspective for me as this morning whilst walking Monty in a slightly bleary eyed state and carrying Poppy in the backpack, I stumbled down a rabbit hole. No Alice jokes please, dear Reader….. Thankfully it was fairly early and there were not many dog walkers about to see my comedy fall, watch me hobble to the car with dearest Primrose acting as human crutch as she gave me her ‘expert’ medical opinion of “It will probably go black and fall off”. Reassuring. My ankle is now an old lady’s ‘cankle’ and I have taken Primrose’s treatment advice: “I think that you need a good long sit down and a drink, Mummy!” Gin, deep heat and a seat in the sunshine with my new ‘countryside kitchen’ book, courtesy of some very lovely old school chums – not strictly Dr Primrose’s orders but surely, these things are open to interpretation, dear Reader?! I shall never get round to doing any of the packing at this rate…..

Can’t wait to try some of the recipes out!!

Preserving in jim jams

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We’re jammin’….

Well, dear Reader, it would seem that I have been burning the candle at both ends somewhat of late and I have been riddled with summer flu. Ridiculous! How can one possibly catch flu in the summer? Feeling utterly useless and wishing I could pull the duvet over my head, I coordinated last minute moving jobs from the sofa and put myself to bed with a whisky (purely medicinal of course). That was until the cavalry arrived (in the form of my dear Mamma) or so I thought….. On second glance, I realised that instead of chicken soup and chocolate, she was armed with a jam pan and a copy of one of my childhood culinary favourites, The Good Housekeeping Step by Step Cook book. Even now, I am still strangely fascinated by this glossy tome which

What more could any dinner party ask for than duck in aspic and steak bites?!

features none other than a recipe for ghoulish sounding Duck in Aspic amongst all kinds of 1970s dinner party disaster menus. The purpose of the cook book’s outing: to make a jam maker of me. My mother is known for her pots of jam littering the larder and her staunch belief that jam can last years and years! Many a breakfast has been spent opening jars to reveal green and blue hues of mould and dear Papa is always threatening to throw out the ‘collection’. I seriously think that there could even be a jar in the pantry from my teenage days……definitely not as palatable as a vintage Margaux!

So, dear Reader, I found myself standing in my kitchen in my jim jams with Poppy in hers too, thinking about how I was going to deal with 3lbs of strawberries and my Mamma’s overexcited enthusiasm for turning me into a preserving queen.

Here’s our version of Margot’s Strawberry and Lavender jam

1kg strawberries (leave them whole – freshly picked fruit is better for this, if you can get it or grow it)

600g preserving sugar

350g caster sugar

juice of a lemon

2 lavender flower heads

Heat the jam pan and add all the strawberries and sugar and stir together. Leaving the strawberries whole gives a more ‘conserve’ style of jam which can be used for cakes, scones and of course, hot buttered toast. The strawberries being a soft fruit will break up a bit anyway as you stir them. Wait until all the sugar has dissolved until you add the lemon juice (lemon juice gives a helping hand as strawberries are notoriously low in pectin so I am told). Stir frequently to stop anything catching on the bottom and simmer gently for approximately 7 minutes. Then allow mixture to come to the boil. Boil rapidly for 10 minutes. Test for setting point by dropping some jam onto a cold spoon. Wait for it to cool and then push the jam with your finger – if it crinkles, it has reached setting point. Wash jars and then place them in a hot oven to sterilise before pouring in the jam (stirring through any scum that may have formed on the top). Add the lavender flowers at the very end, stirring through the pot to make sure they are evenly spread. The lavender is there for fragrance and delicate flavour – try not to be too heavy handed with it though as otherwise you will end up with jammy pot pourri! Seal the jars – jar can be kept for up to 12 months. Refrigerate once opened.

The perfect summery jam for a Wimbledon tea!

What could be more summery than luscious rosy ripe strawberry jam slathered on a buttery scones piled high with cream and extra strawberries?!! Certainly a diet fail but the perfect accompaniment to watching Wimbledon and the best antidote to a spot of summer flu I can assure you.

With some leftover rhubarb, we even had a go at some experimental ‘Jarmalade’ – yes, you guessed it, a jam/marmalade hybrid with rhubarb and orange. Dear Reader, to be honest I think that Mamma and I got a bit carried away with the preserving at this point as we were thinking up all sorts of combinations. Thank goodness Jerry arrived home just in time before I managed to populate the whole kitchen with pots of jam. His first thought was that the removal men would be boxing up at least one whole box of jam…….oh my, dear Reader, it would appear that I may have inherited that jam hoarding gene after all! Perhaps I could endear myself to neighbours in our new village with gifts of jam……?!

It’s all about Lifestyle darlings…

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I might just keep my name badge forever….

Dear Reader, as you may have read a couple of weeks ago, I was in the top 6 finalists of the Britmums Brilliance in Blogging Lifestyle award. Something which I was totally stunned by (and quite over the top excited about) since I only started writing Margot tries the good life in October 2012. As the BiBs awards ceremony loomed closer and several wardrobe crises later (I did actually consider the ballgown and wellies option for longer than perhaps was actually sensible), I was thinking of sending a note to Barbara to go in my place. Then I remembered she was in Provence (more than likely learning how to make her own perfume) and would be of no help at all! The day of judgment dawned and I managed to get myself to The Brewery in EC1 without too much mishap. Paralysed with nerves, I lurked outside for some time then hid beside the cloakrooms before finally taking the plunge and entering the drinks reception. A glass of fizz in hand (sadly no gin), I met some lovely lovely people who I had previously only known through Twitter – that in itself was a surreal experience I don’t mind admitting to you. Everyone I met at Britmums Live asked if we had moved yet and the inevitable question of livestock and growing my own fruit and vegetables was on the cards too! Not yet, not yet was the reply. Very nearly though…. Anyway, I am cutting to the chase, dear Reader, I promise. No, sadly, I did not win the award and yes, my practised Oscar nominee losing face came in handy BUT I did feel very honoured to be on the list at all, especially as the winner has a fantastic blog (Mamma Syder from The Syders).

Jerry reminded me when I got home that 9 months ago, I never would have dreamed of being in the same room as some of the nation’s favourite bloggers and even a generous handful of published authors. He was utterly right of course and I do feel a little proud of myself for getting all the way to the final of the BiBs in the first place. NOW I blog about our puppy, Monty, at the NFU Countryside website here and I have recently been offered the chance to blog for the National Trust’s London and South East region. Margot, a lifestyle blogger – whatever next?! So thank YOU, dear Reader, for getting me to here because without you reading, tweeting and following my story, I might never have managed any of it! One last plea: please go and tell lots of people about Margot tries the good life!

Now that Britmums Live is over and awards ceremony is done and dusted, I can start focusing on our move in 5 weeks’ time! In fact, in the spirit of getting things ticked off the list, I booked the movers and packers this morning. It is finally sinking in. We are moving. Primrose only has another 4 weeks left at nursery and Jerry and I are frantically filling the diary with last minute must dos and must see people. It is within spitting distance as they say. Maybe just maybe, I might write a book about all of this one day, dear Reader….. In the meantime, I shall have to keep plaguing Country Life until they are so sick of me that they give in and let me loose on their glorious magazine!

Margot’s little book of scribblings.

A little bit of news…..

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Ooh little bubbles of gorgeousness!

Last weekend saw the Margot and Jerry brood visit the new digs in the countryside. The current owners (a very sweet couple who have lived there for 13 years) invited us down to measure up and chat about the village. With only 30 houses and a church, it is a close community and everyone knows each other. I didn’t spy any twitching curtains but I was sure we were being vetted for our suitability! Jerry and I fell in love with the house and our new hamlet all over again and it was useful to talk through some of the practicalities of village life! No mains gas or mains sewerage certainly will take some getting used to and I was thoroughly grateful for all the advice given on cess pits (it’s a whole other world having the contents of the loo in your garden!) and oil fired heating.

From loos to locals, Sunday lunch proved a success too as we tested out the nearest pub in the next village along. Anywhere that can accommodate a small puppy and 2 little ones is a wonder in my book – there don’t seem to be many child friendly pubs in the countryside so this was a gem of a find and only a mile from the house! Jerry and I could see ourselves propping up the bar happily or enjoying a swift half on a Sunday after church. Everyone was very friendly and people actually said “Good afternoon” to each other – we were definitely far from London! So far so good….village life was looking idyllic!

Well, dear Reader, we must have passed muster as we have FINALLY exchanged contracts on the new house! Champagne all round! Immense relief washed over us like a tsunami when we finally heard the news and both solicitor and agent contacted us to let us know that all was set for completion. Jerry and I have been grinning like Cheshire cats ever since! In 6 weeks’ time, we will be surrounded by boxes in the ‘new’ (well actually rather old…17th century) cottage in rural Hampshire. Is the village ready for Margot and her capers? Most certainly not. Are we all set for leaving the Big Smoke? Well, with a view like this literally a few yards from our front door, how could we not be ready to move to the country?!

The view a few yards from our new back door

Blissful buttercups and fields for miles and miles!

Margot Tries the Good Life

A chronicle of the transformation from self-confessed townie to country bumpkin