Jam making

I have never been successful at making jam. Chutneys and piccalilli I have mastered however, thanks to Delia Smith. But a week or so ago I discovered in a 'Good Food' magazine a recipe for strawberry jam which, the author declared, is 'pretty near perfect' . Well that is a challenge!

Now, I suppose, I had better come clean about my most disastrous jam making ordeal. In my defence it was my first attempt (or should that be offence) and I was only about 12 or 13 years old at the time.

It was for a school cookery lesson and we had been put into pairs to bring the fruit and other necessities for blackberry and apple jam. Well I volunteered the blackberries but only because I knew my parents had been picking them the day before and in any case the other girl (my partner) had said she would bring apples! So my second mistake was to miss the early bus home so that by the time I arrived in doors with the news that I was to take x lbs of blackberries the very next day, it was getting very close to dusk. And of course, unknown to me, my mother had already made use of the fruit picked previously.

To cut the story short we did manage to find enough blackberries between us, mum, dad and me and I went off to school the next day all prepared for my first lesson in jam making. I have already said it was a disaster and I'm still not sure whether it was completely due to my ineptitude or whether perhaps the teacher wasn't attentive enough. We'll never know. Suffice to say I went home with a 2lb jar of something we couldn't even get a knife into, let alone spread on bread - and my mother has never let me (or anyone else) forget it - and I'm talking 50 years ago now - so I'm assuming she never will forgive me!

Anyway back to my challenge. Bob is away this coming weekend and I am determined to have a go at making strawberry jam. This is how it should look - good enough to eat!







Once I have completed my task I will take a photo of my attempt and publish it in another post, though of course you will have to rely on my truthfulness regarding texture and flavour. And, if it all goes horribly wrong, no-one need ever know!

Getting Organised

Have just realised that we are now in the second week of August and I am going to have to make 'to do' lists to keep myself organised. We have a few events between now and the end of the month and once into September I shan't have a lot of spare time before I start jet-setting (so to speak).

We are at a party tonight and it is 2nd son's 40th birthday celebrations next week. The following weekend we have a civic event to attend on Bob's behalf, more of which nearer the time. In between there are the usual routines (including blogging!) plus I have to see to my eldery mum's needs several times a week.

In the second week in September I have promised to be in Stratford upon Avon to help 2nd daughter with taking and meeting her little girl to and from school and will be returning home on 13th September. And on 17th September mum and I fly to Australia to visit 1st son and his family. As well as this I have to pack my case (twice), help mum to pack her case and leave the freezer packed (for Bob).

I have undertaken to make and ice a 70th birthday cake for a friend's mum and that will have to be ready to deliver a couple of days before I fly off. The cake is already made and is lying in a darkened room until it is time to get ready for the party. I will be making sugar flowers for it, probably roses and lilies but haven't begun them yet. That is a job to start this afternoon.

So to keep my mind clear, it is time for lists.

Has anyone seen my pad and pen ............ ?

A Senior Moment

Bob is semi retired - really can't see him being anything else either. However before he decided to slow down a bit he had been working for a local, family run, leisure park, had been with them for about 25 years and latterly spent most of the time promoting the park and their adjoining holiday caravan site. Some of his work took him to exhibitions and I got used to him having to go off for a few days at a time, usually Thursday to Sunday. When he decided on "retirement" he was asked if he would continue some of the promotion work, so about 6 times a year he goes off to various shows.

This weekend was scheduled for Malvern. We had to decline a party invitation because he was away (I don't really know the host so it was not one I would go to alone). He prepared in the usual way and set off at about mid-day Thursday. We joked about him remembering to take his weekend case as one time when he went I had got home from work to find his case on the landing, telephoned to ask his whereabouts and he was 2 hours drive away, so he had to make a quick trip to Tesco to buy the necessary!

My mum was round to lunch and we were sat chatting at about 2pm when the phone rang -

Bob - "Its me, guess what"

Me - "what"

Bob - "I've just arrived at the showground - the show is next week"

Me - "you s**** s**"

He had done the 2 hour drive and arrived at the ground to discover his mistake. He had copied down last year's dates into his diary and yes, the show is next week. He went on to the hotel he had booked to explain and they sympathised and booked him in for next Thursday and Friday but can't help on Saturday. Well that's OK thinks Bob, because that night is Peter's 40th birthday party (Peter is his son) so he will drive home for that and go back to Malvern early on Sunday!

He arrived back home at about 5 pm, grinning from ear to ear! And we have rung the host of Saturday night's party and accepted their invitation after all. Now, what shall I wear ........

Hot Flushes

Yesterday evening I felt quite chilly and put on sweater only to remove it a few minutes later because I thought I was about to burst into flames. I am quite used to this now, it comes and goes. Bob is always bemused by it! Still.

At bedtime my feet were freezing but the rest of me was cooking. So bed socks on and very little else, with windows and door open to get as much air through as possible and a gentle reminder to B that the fan really does need to come out of the loft so that I can keep it trained on me through the night. (he says the noise will keep him awake - oh please - once he is asleep I could jump and down on the bed and not disturb him).

Bob - "don't understand how your temperature changes so quickly so often"

Me - "well I keep you guessing don't I, you never know what's next"

Bob - "it's a bit like living with a box of chocolates".

Well I've been compared to worse things.

Apologies to Forrest Gump!

A grand day out

Bob suggested that we should have a day out somewhere, just us. It's not something we do very often. We go out - but it usually involves other people, going with or going to see others. The weather forecast was reasonable and we decided that we would make a fairly early start. So when I got up in the morning and saw that it was raining I was a bit disappointed. But I am a bit of a "rain before 7, clear by 11" sort of person so wasn't too downhearted. When we finally set off it was very overcast but not wet.

We had decided on a trip on the West Somerset Railway (again Bob's suggestion) so drove to Bishops Lydeard, on the 'A' and 'B' roads, and it was quite leisurely (I do hate being on the motorway race track these days) and sang along to a 50's and 60's CD (Johnnie Ray - Walking in the Rain, Anthony Newley - Why, Rosemary Clooney - This Old House etc) and had the pleasure of wonderful views across the Quantocks and back to the coast. It took about 50 minutes, then we parked the car and walked to the railway station to find out train times. There was about 30 minutes to wait for the 11.30 to Minehead, so we bought our rover tickets (concessionary of course, costing £11 each) had a browse around the station shop and picked up leaflets detailing future events, the Santa Steam Special and the Candlelight Evening at Dunster being the ones we were most interested in although the Carol Train is appealing and I could be tempted to take a trip on the Murder Mystery evening. The train time-table gives a brief description about each stop on the journey, detailing how far from the station and what can be found there of interest. We decided on Minehead simply because it was the end of the line but could just as easily got off at any of the stations along the way.

The train was delayed - apparently a problem on the line - and we finally left on the diesel train at about 11.50, arriving in Minehead at 1 pm. There are eight stops along the way, all of the stations are very well kept with lovely flowers in borders and pots and each station has a shop or museum. The staff too are friendly and helpful, greeting one another from the train or platform. A couple of times we had to wait at a station for another train to come in and hellos were shouted from the passing trains! And naturally there were waves from children and adults from the roadsides.

The countryside was beautiful, herds of cows gently grazing and plenty of sheep too. On either side of the track there were banks of wild flowers. I believe some of these may have been planted in various parts (in some cases by local children) and of course some will have self seeded, either way it was lovely.

When we got to Minehead the sun was out, in fact the weather had been improving all the while and it was a beautiful summer's day and from the sea front we could see across to our home town on one side and to Wales on the other. We strolled around and found somewhere for a snack lunch and then wandered up through the main part of the town. Although I have lived in this area for nearly 40 years I have only visited this town once before and then I think only along the sea front, so was quite interested to see it and was impressed by the lovely displays of flowers through the main street.

But the main purpose of our day out was the train ride, and we had decided to catch the 3 pm train back to Bishops Lydeard. This was a steam train - a great thrill! So there we were, rocking, rolling and riding with the train whistle blowing at every opportunity and occasionally smoke blowing in through the open window.

The first stop on the return journey was Dunster and here the train was boarded by a group of Morris Men, in full regalia, another delight for me - and they jangled their way through the train, though sadly there was no dancing. As we steamed our way through the countryside the cows were unperturbed but the sheep didn't seem so keen and hurried away from the edge of the field nearest to the track.

We got back to our starting point at 4.30 and made our way home - singing along once again. We were back indoors by 6pm and both agreed it had been a 'grand day out'.