Category Archives: Margot’s Country Snippets

Getting in the mood…

panettone

Delicious Christmas goodies…we wanted to buy them all!

I have to say, dear Reader, that I have been really suffering from Christmas malaise this year.  Our first countryside Christmas and I am not quite ready to be Christmassy just yet!  I AM excited but there just seems so much to get through before the 25th that pretty soon, I shall be ready to flop by the fire with a bottle of sloe gin and not surface until New Year’s eve!

Desperately trying to be organised, I did manage to get to our local farm shop’s ‘Christmas Fayre’ and it didn’t disappoint!  Hung turkeys, oodles of Christmas gifts, mulled wine and mince pies…..Christmas on a platter!  Newlyns Farm Shop did a jolly good job of twisting my Christmas arm and I stocked up on the essentials: meat, wine, panettone and Gentleman’s Relish!  There were gifts a plenty to buy too so no family member will be without something foodie in their stocking this year.   A wonderful way to start the festive season.  Jerry and I enjoyed being plied with mulled wine and mince pies immensely!  The Christmas feast on the day itself has its festive centrepiece as Jerry and I finally persuaded Primrose that Christmas goose is much like ‘posh chicken’.  (She stills remembers me tricking her into eating Jemima Puddleduck).  Rather nonchalantly, she did ask if we would be slaughtering one of our own chickens for lunch – frightening how she has become more ‘countrified’ than the rest of us so quickly!  So with Primrose’s help, I shall trek over to the farm shop on Christmas Eve to pick up our bird and try to hide it from Monty’s ravenous jaws when I get home.

No turkey for us this year!

AMAZING to see all these oven ready birdies on show!

Don’t worry, Monty certainly won’t be going without – thanks to the lovely farm shop butchers!  He will have his own Christmas gnawfest with this little number…

Fit for a Great Dane!

Fit for a Great Dane!

With festive fayre in the bag so to speak, I could turn my attentions to the buying of presents.  Don’t tell anyone, dear Reader but I am afraid that I might not be able to give some of the presents I have bought to their intended recipients as they are simply too fabulous to give away.  I know, I know……Christmas is ALL about the giving of presents and not the receiving part.  However, I might have to sneak this little kindling set at the very back under the tree and hope that no one notices it.  I would so dearly like to keep it!

Might just forget to wrap this one!

Ever so tempting to forget to wrap this one! (Garden Trading)

With a huge dent made into the long list of preparations, surely dear Reader, it wouldn’t be amiss to treat myself to an early festive tipple or two?!  I have been a good Margot after all…..promise.

A little Christmas punch, anyone?

A little Christmas punch, anyone?

(The lovely Countrywives have very kindly invited me into their country coven and I shall be adding my favourite Christmas recipes over on their website each week – do come over and take a look if you have a mo)

Clucky cluck

Our feathered ladies and their hen chalet!

Our feathered ladies and their hen chalet!

With all the excitement of not having power for three days following the storm, I completely forgot to tell you about the latest additions to Margot’s brood, dear Reader.  Our first foray into feathers…….CHICKENS!!!!

Having bulldozed Jerry into the idea, aided and abetted by Primrose and Poppy, we somehow managed to find four little hens looking for a ‘good life’ too!  So off I popped in the car for the five mile drive to Alison, the ‘chicken lady’, who was a delight to meet and managed to show us all her cockerels and hens, despite suffering from a dreadful harvest injury having fallen from a ladder whilst picking apples.  Only in the countryside dear Reader…!  Primrose was fascinated by all the different sorts of chickens especially the Legbars and their blue eggs but most of all wanted to see Alison’s pony.  With the mention of vintage tractors too, I thought that Primrose might well adopt Alison and give her own mother the heave-ho!  Chickens, ponies, AND vintage tractors…….Primrose was in seventh heaven!  The whole ‘putting the chickens into a box’ malarkey was hilarious and we nearly lost the four of them in the wind when Primrose opened the crate and attempted to pick one up!  Finally in their cardboard box, I had visions of them escaping in the back of the Lanny as we made our way home along the country lanes….thankfully all was well and the Hampshire feathered four clucked away merrily,

SO without further ado dear Reader, I introduce to you our four clucky hybrid girls:

Primrose's plucky Pru

Primrose’s plucky Pru

Prudence (Pru for short) is Primrose’s hen and she is a Magpie.  The biggest hen by far and quite feisty too!  She was the first to lay on their second day with us and has already given us some beautiful double-yolked eggs.  A rather wonderful treat indeed!

Our little brown girl

Our little brown girl

Henny Penny (Poppy’s girl) is a very friendly little Columbian BlackTail and comes from the same breeder who breeds hens for Prince Charles’ Highgrove estate and Waitrose!  She is a poppet and really doesn’t mind the fact that she has to make do with our more rustic setting when all her little brown henny friends have gone to far grander surroundings.

Our green dotted lady

Dotty, my little hen, (a very nervous Cuckoo Speckledy) seems to be the primary escape artist and can often be found sitting on the roof of the hen house.  Dot evades all human touch for now but I am intent on winning her round with mealworms!

Our rock chick!

Our rock chick!

Finally, Layla, Jerry’s chicken (spot the attempt at a comedy name from Jerry) a beautiful looking Light Sussex.  So far she seems very shy and only ventures out when she spies a handful of corn being scattered.  She loves to cosy up in the nesting box.

With the hens settled and exploring their new surroundings, Jerry set about erecting the electric fence.  A much bigger job than Jerry and I expected.  I’m afraid that Jerry spent most of an afternoon in the rain cursing me for persuading him into an adventure with livestock.  To be fair to Jerry, I had tangled most of the netting and he spent an hour getting soaked to keep the hens safe at night from Mr Foxy Loxy.  To add to the drama, Monty got a little too acquainted with the fence at one point and has since given it and the chickens a very wide berth!!!

Look at those beauties!!!

Look at those beauties!!!

Two weeks in and the excitement of peeping into the nest box hasn’t waned.  Each day, Primrose, Poppy and I tiptoe to the coop to see if our feathered friends have left us any eggy offerings.  I have to say that even the hen’sceptic’ Jerry is mildly won over by the abundance of brown eggs!  Two a day so far and some HUGE eggs have appeared considering the hens are only 24 weeks old.  It is miraculous how they manage it!  Happy to report that I am now completely hen obsessed and spend most mornings (at the crack of dawn standing in the chicken run in my pyjamas, coat and wellies) trying to work out who has given us an egg and who is top of the pecking order.  I have also developed a rather serious habit for buying chicken paraphernalia……..well, would you expect anything less, dear Reader?  In fact, I am off to buy an egg run from my favourite haunt, Garden Trading, right this minute to display our ‘egg’cellent haul in the kitchen for all to see.

Our very first boiled eggs from our own hens! Perfect!

Our very first boiled egg from our own hens! Perfect!

Plunged into darkness

(Posted after almost 72hrs without heating, hot water, electricity…….welcome to country living!!!)

Our kitchen light

Our kitchen light

I sit here, dear Reader, writing this plunged in darkness and with the last of my computer’s feeble battery.  The St Jude storm predicted to be a replica of the Great Storm of 1987 hit our little hamlet hard.  Fancy naming a storm after the patron saint of lost causes?!  Bound to be a corker with a name like that!  I can say quite categorically that it has definitely left us feeling a bit bereft and bewildered!  Although, there was no major damage to houses in the village from the fallen trees, we have no power.  Yes NO ELECTRICITY…….  No heating, hot water or means of cooking.  The great whoosing of wind work the four of us at 04:30am and terrified that overhanging nearby trees would hit the house, we all retreated downstairs to light candles and sit it out.  So when it arrived, daylight was a welcome sight despite the fact that Primrose and Poppy found the whole episode quite thrilling to be honest!  Realising that power might be some time in coming back, Primrose announced that it would be like the ‘old-fashioned days’ and we set to work digging out the candles, thinking of how we would manage without the very thing which we take for granted.  Jerry in his jolly green Lanny giant left for the station, only to find that there would no trains until much later in the day.  Just when I thought that the entire day was going to be a write off, our dear neighbours, the Worthingtons, arrived on the doorstep with flasks of hot water for that most basic of needs…..a morning cup of cha!  I was so excited that I think I made rather a silly of myself, kissing Mrs Worthington with considerable drama and exclaiming that she had saved the day (well I had been up since the wee small hours of the morning)!  Turns out that their oil-fuelled Aga can be used manually whereas our oily boiler only works with the electric timers etc.  Rather natty those Agas!!  Mr Worthington did say that the last power outage lasted for a week……not such great news.  Still, the girls and I ploughed on with our day and Jerry managed to get to the Big Smoke.  Books were read, toys played with, paintings painted and quite a lot of stamping was achieved too.  It was truly wonderful not to have the television on blaring Mr Tumble out from the sitting room but I really did miss my daily dose of Radio 4 if I am honest.

Walking round the village later in the day, we spied the many trees which had come down in the night and I gave a little nod to the old chap upstairs for sparing our little garden and old cottage.  However, I was not impressed with the torrential rain which hit the girls, pup and I as we negotiated fallen branches along the bridleway.  At one point, we had to crawl through a small gap in the leafy debris and gnarly bits of tree trunk in order to carry on to the house.  As I took off the backpack which Poppy was firmly strapped into and squeezed both girls through and then myself, I did think that perhaps I had been a little barmy to try to carry out such an expedition with two small children and a wayward puppy.  Thank goodness, Monty had decided to behave himself and not run away with the lead.  Primrose was fabulously chirpy for once and announced that we were country girls and “This is what country girls have to do!”  I marvelled that our new found country existence had changed our rather risk adverse townie tot into an intrepid explorer.  “How killing!” as a ninety two year old in the village would say!

Our village is abundant with dear souls who have rallied round with flasks of hot water, offers of heating meals on their Agas and who have come to check on those who are at the mercy of the electricity engineers!  Bath time was a hoot in the dark and luckily, we still had enough hot water in the tank for Poppy and Primrose to warm up after a soaking wet walk.  I even managed to convince my little darlings to go to bed at 5:45pm as it was so dark here.  Thankfully, my dear Mamma arrives with a camping stove in the morning and I will no doubt have to take the girls on a long drive to charge up my mobile phone as the battery is on its last legs.  Keeping my fingers crossed that Jerry makes it back from London without too much difficulty too.

Still, sitting here with the log fire on and surrounded by candlelight, it has to be said that there is a kind of romance to being in deepest darkest countryside with nothing but a meagre ration pack of candles, batteries and a good book to while away the hours.  I am not sure I will be saying that in another 24 hours when we still have no power but for now, dear Reader, I am enjoying the beauty of the ‘old-fashioned life’ as Primrose put it earlier.  Better sign off now as looks like I need to find some more candles to keep us going this evening!

blackout

A time for harvest

Ah autumn, there you are!

Ah autumn, there you are!

What a busy few weeks it has been!  Harvest celebrations, dinner parties in the village, Primrose’s birthday, her party complete with farm animals in our garden and a hilarious moment in the dark changing a Land Rover tyre with Jerry and one of the villagers……  I am definitely ready for a rest in the dark with a large gin and tonic, dear Reader!

Autumn is rushing around too it would seem!  Our little landscape is changing again and walks have become muddier and leaf-strewn.  Everywhere you look, you can see that the harvest has well and truly been brought in.  Gathering with all the villagers to celebrate the bounty in a neighbour’s barn, Jerry, Primrose, Poppy and I felt rather like we had stepped into ‘dreams of foregone times’ last week.  Hops hanging from the ceiling, checked tablecloths and wine flowing, homemade shepherd’s pies made by the ladies of the village (and of course, yours truly) as well as crumbles galore, the whole village sat together following the Sunday service to eat, drink and generally make merry!  A time honoured tradition, made even more special by the whole village singing “Happy Birthday” to Primrose.  Primrose was mortified, slumping further and further down her chair until she was almost under the table!  Poor love!  Mind you, Primrose wasn’t the only one to blush with embarrassment that day.  Asked by the village harvest committee to create a floral display for one of the church windows, I had no idea of the brief and ended up creating a rustic autumnal wreath to sit amongst a sea of really rather elegant blooms.  One villager called it ‘charming’.  I wondered if this was village vernacular was ‘a pile of old rubbish’.  However, I did at least manage to make it all from things in our garden and although it wasn’t the most beautiful tribute to the harvest in the church, it did have a bit of Margot charm.  Well, at least Jerry and the girls thought so!

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Let’s hope they don’t ask me to do anything for Christmas!

Best of all, was the amazing haul of vegetables we were given as we left the harvest lunch.  The village is awash with fantastic kitchen gardens, orchards and flower gardens.  I shall to have to up my game seriously for next year.  Squash, artichokes, potatoes, courgettes, purple and orange carrots….I could hardly carry my handbag as it was brimming with veg!  Dear Reader, I had no idea that pattypans really existed outside of Beatrix Potter but here they are..

I am not sure that this is the same pattypan that Duchess was worried about eating in the veal and ham pie!

I am not sure that this is the same pattypan that Duchess was worried about eating in the veal and ham pie though!  WHAT is a patty-pan?

From harvests and growing your own food……we even managed to parade (albeit briefly) as a smallholding for Primrose’s birthday party.  2 donkeys, 2 goats, 2 pigs, 2 sheep, 2 turkeys, 2 bantams, 2 call ducks, a mini colony of guinea pigs and rabbits and one extremely well behaved dog (note, dear Reader, that it was most certainly not Monty, who was kept inside for fear of him devouring a duck).  A veritable mini Noah’s Ark and all in OUR GARDEN!  A huge hit with children and grown ups alike.  I was happy to play farmer’s wife and it did get me thinking about how marvellous it might be to rear a pig next year when we are a little more settled.  Jerry nearly had a coronary when he heard the farmer who brought the livestock to the cottage, saying that he would happily give us the Kune Kune weaners he had brought that day.  Apparently they do make the most delicious sausages!  Considering that I have finally managed to persuade Jerry to let me have some chickens, I think that asking for a pig for Christmas might be a step too far.  For now, dear Reader, for now…….!

I suppose I shall have to make do with this little piggy!

I suppose I shall have to make do with this little piggy!

An apple a day

Horn of plenty!

Apples a plenty and a few lusciously large quinces too!

Harvest is here and the village and hedgerows are laden with sumptuous treats!  Apples are everywhere and almost every villager has offered us some of the bountiful produce!  Our dear new neighbours, the Worthingtons have an orchard the other side of the fence which is truly to die for and what is more dear Reader, is that they have said that we can pick apples until we drop!  I have, of course, taken them up on that offer.  Oooh I am already planning endless crumbles, tarte tatins, jellies, apple butters, chutney……delicious….and it is not even National Apple Day (21st October).

Armed with an apple picker, Primrose, Poppy and I spent a glorious afternoon gathering apples and learning all about old English varieties of cookers and eaters.  Mrs Worthington is now known as ‘apple lady’ according to Poppy.  Trampling in and amongst the apple trees, I was reminded of why we moved to the countryside in the first place – a desire to lead a simpler life.  Well, Margot’s idea of a simpler life at any rate!  There will be no knitting of yoghurt here!  On a sunny day in September, it was heavenly to watch my own dear dots scrambling through the apple boughs and munching on their treasured finds.  At that moment, I could honestly not imagine anything better!  My mind is now full of ideas of growing my own mini orchard once we have tackled the jungle that is the garden.  Perhaps it was the talk of cider that got me thinking about my own apples and the need for an apple press?

What a beauty! Not sure this one made it to the basket...

What a beauty! Not sure this one made it to the basket…

With our baskets laden, we skipped home to cook an apple cake.  I know what you are thinking, dear Reader….MARGOT DOES NOT MAKE CAKES.  This is true.  However, the girls called for cake and I was desperate to use my new gadget.  All hail the miraculous apple peeler and thank the Lord for Nigel Slater who has a really easy cake recipe which even this baking criminal can manage!

Everyone needs one of these - believe me!

Everyone needs one of these – believe me! Go to Garden Trading and get one!

An edible cake!  Makes a change!

Edible! Makes a change!

Girls merrily scoffing cake, I had time to panic about the annual village Harvest lunch.  The form is that everyone makes something for the table and I have been asked to prepare a shepherd’s pie.  Nothing too extraordinary about that – shepherd’s pie is shepherd’s pie.  Well I think it is at any rate but you never know, the village might have an ancient pie tradition which I haven’t discovered as yet.  The real anxiety, resting pie issues to one side, is that in addition to the culinary part comes a request for a harvest floral display for the village church.  Oh dear!  I have been frantically researching autumn displays and wreaths for days now and I am still none the wiser.  Where is a local florist when you need one?  Do they not realise that I am townie and know nothing of arranging flowers?  At this rate, I might just have to hang apples from the church ceiling in a decorative fashion…….apple bobbing anyone?!