Tag Archives: trees

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

Wine and a little ‘Wes Hael’!

Wine!  Wassailing to follow...

Wine! Wassailing to follow…

I write this week’s installment, Dear Reader, with a slightly (understatement of the year) sore head.  Christmas party season arrived and Margot’s Christmas simply wouldn’t be complete without a little glug of wine or two.  In the case of Margot’s more recent past, rather a few too many gin fizzes and a smoking bishop!  More on that in a mo….. This year, I threw in some wassailing for good measure too!  An old custom associated with Christmas and in particular Twelfth Night, wassailing has been around since the 15th century.  ‘Wes Hael’ (‘be well’ or ‘be healthy’ in Anglo Saxon I believe) is a way of wishing good health to family and friends.  Definitely something Margot would be interested  in at this time of year!  It is also an ancient ritual that includes a good old shout at some trees (usually apple trees to be a touch more precise).  It was believed that wassailing the trees in one’s orchard thanked the trees for the year’s crop and ensured a bountiful crop for the year to come.  A ceremonial slosh of mulled cider was poured on to the roots of the tree and a wassailing song was sung to keep evil spirits from harming the tree until a good harvest was brought in the following year. In the spirit of old things country, I did my bit and wassailed my ‘orchard’ of 1 pear, 1 cherry (this year’s crop was used in a new gin recipe) and 1 fig tree.  I donned a green scarf (a nod to the Greene man, usually the master of wassailing ceremonies) and enjoyed a little sing song of a few Cole Porter numbers.  Goodness only knows what the neighbours thought of the crazy woman singing in the garden, dousing a libation of sloe gin fizz on a piddly tree with a green scarf over her head (it was raining, Dear Reader, and I had just had my hair blow dried).  Let’s hope I get a good crop of cherries and pears next year.  I fancy trying my hand at making some perry!  I love the thought that all over  the cider making countiesof England, country folk are still keeping this amazing tradition alive!  I shall continue to do my bit and ‘wassail’ throughout the 12 days of Christmas…what a fabulous excuse for a little tipple!  If you should manage a little wassailing of your own, do have a go at one of my sloe gin fizzes.  Wassailing won’t seem silly at all once you have had a few of these!

Sloe Gin Fizz

1 part sloe gin (homemade of course)

3 parts Prosecco or English Sparkling wine (no need to use your best Bolly for this one)

a handful of pomegranate seeds

Gin in first, then top up with fizz.  Sprinkle in the seeds.  Delish!

or perhaps an old fashioned take on Mulled Wine found in Anne Cobbett’s The English Housekeeper (1842)

‘Boil cinnamon, grated nutmeg, cloves or mace in a quarter of a pint of water.  Add a pint of port and some sugar to taste.’ Boil for a few minutes.

Until Christmas Day itself, I have imposed prohibition on myself as I imbibed rather a lot with some dear festive chums, Holly and Ivy.  It must have been a good party as my head still hurts days later.  Apparently, the hostess was on top form dishing out cocktails, donning a fur coat, having a little dance before an awful incident with the kitchen sink, going up to bed (very worse for wear) leaving guests to fend for themselves, blow out candles, turn off lights etc before letting themselves out……. Most certainly NOT Margot’s finest hour I don’t mind telling you, Dear Reader!  Dearest Holly and lovely Ivy, a BIG thank you to you for saving the cottage from fire and for very generously forgiving a drunken old Christmas bird for seriously bad hostessing!  I promise to be the last man standing on our next ‘Wes Hael’ jaunt.  In the meantime dear Reader, I shall stick to a festive cuppa until my aching head subsides!  Have a wonderfully fabulous Christmas and ‘Wes Hael’ to all of you and yours!

Dear Barbara's festive pot - I just couldn't resist!

Dear Barbara’s festive pot – exceptionally restorative!