White Valley

I didn't think, on Sunday, that we'd be long spared the snow, and so today is no surprise. Heavy snow overnight, and the valley has turned white.

We were working from home, so I went out mid-morning to knock the snow from the fruit cages, and take some photos of the house and garden. It's quite an amusing opportunity to do a series on the construction of the raised vegetable beds, in fact.

The first, obviously, is actually from before constructing the fruit cages. I was struck by their appearance in the snow, which rather obscures the fact that they're not quite full enough of soil—but also stops you seeing the rapidly establishing green manure. Hopefully it's grown enough to cope with the cold; I suspect the geraniums in the front garden, which were still alive at the weekend, may now have had it.

Christmas Markets

We've had a few days dominated by Christmas markets—and very festive it's felt, too.

On Thursday evening, we went into Manchester after work, and strolled around the market(s) in the city centre. They're well laid-out, and we went round them all from Albert Square (with the Town Hall) to the Triangle (under the Wheel). Very busy, and very cold, but some lovely stalls.

We then went down to Ludlow on Friday night, to stay with Liz's grandma. It was the weekend of Ludlow's Medieval Christmas Market, which takes over Ludlow castle. The castle itself is well worth a visit, but with the baileys taken over with stalls, it's a lot of fun. We went after lunch, and spent a few hours wandering: the market then closes 1600-1800, and so we went back after dinner for the evening. We bought more than intended, perhaps, including a pair of welly holders made from recycled horse-shoes, and a candle-stand fashioned from a sika deer's antler. I also picked up three ceramic Green Man faces, which I'm going to hang on the trees in the copse.

While we were staying, I also spent a happy hour chopping firewood. One of the eucalyptus trees in the garden was felled last autumn, and the logs have been seasoning since. They've dried really nicely, and it was a pleasure splitting them into properly sized pieces and stacking them away under a tarp.

We drove home through snow, but there's none, yet, at home. I don't think we'll escape long, however!

Raspberries

After very few (about eight) of the raspberries showed any sign of life this year, we've assumed that most didn't survive, and ordered thirty more. These arrived today, so—as we were working at home—we nipped out at lunch to plant them. They're not in any order, as we've just put them in to fill gaps, but there's ten of each of Glen Cova (June-July), Tulameen (July-August), and Malling Jewel (June-July). I'm hoping that, although they've gone in the ground two days later than last year, they'll establish better: they won't need to be moved around as we construct the raised beds around them, and with a little luck there'll be a milder winter—there was a continuous covering of snow for a month from mid-December last year.

Such a shame that it'll now be summer 2012 before we see any fruit from them!

This evening, I installed the light in the pantry, and also replaced the RCD in the consumer unit for the cooker/lights. It was nuisance tripping when the grill or standard oven was switched on, which was a little problematic. The new RCD has a trip current of 100mA, instead of the standard 30mA: less good for preventing electrocution, but provides fire safety. As it only covers the cooker (next door to the unit) and lighting, this seems reasonable.

Looking back, we had a good weekend, visiting my parents; I also painted the remaining window frames. I also note that, as planned, I did install the new cat flap on the 16th. The boys are getting used to it...slowly.

Curtain Poles

Well, I might not have managed them at the weekend, but they're done now. I've put up the remaining curtain pole in the kitchen, and Liz has hung a motley collection of 'spare' curtains. Surprisingly, they really help finish the room, even though no two windows are the same, and the lengths are—shall we say—incorrect.

Tomorrow night, with a little luck, I'm going to fit a cat flap in the door between kitchen and utility, so it can be kept shut, and also plane the door slightly (it no longer closes...). If I have time, I'll finish by fitting a small strip light in the pantry, which is too dark now. The light at that end of the room used to illuminate it (though imperfectly): having moved, the pantry is rather too dark to identify contents.

Jars and Jars of Chutney

I had such grand plans for getting things done in the kitchen this weekend. Grand plans, which would have left the kitchen looking almost done. Grand plans of glosswork, shelves, and curtains. Grand plans that didn't survive first contact with reality.

I've put up four of the curtain rails, and glossed the outside & frame of the door (inside still to come), and that's it. We got distracted in the middle of yesterday by going to see reindeer (from the wild herd that lives on the Cairngorms, which we visited in 2004), and then today turned into a chutney-making day.

We had meant to make chutney during our week off work at the end of October, but it didn't happen. The apples, though, are starting to look a little unhappy, so we thought we should get round to it. Thus, we appear to have spent the entire day cooking. That said, we've now got some two dozen jars of chutney, in four flavours, so it seems quite well spent.

We started with 'Grandma's Hot' apple chutney (from the National Trust preserves book), and then made some apple, peach and apricot chutney, mango chutney, and simple spiced apple chutney from a birthday present recipe book.

I'm quite fond of mango chutney, but mangoes are pricey, as fruit goes, and so we've only made chutney from them once before. However, I found a kilo tin of 'mango pulp' in the supermarket around Eid, which is 90% pulped mango flesh, with some added water and sugar. Ideal, I thought, for forming the basis of chutney. The recipe bulks out the mango with apple (also in ample supply), making it even more economical. It's turned out really nicely, though a little spicier than I'd like, and I don't think it needed as much vinegar. Notes duly made, and next year's batch will be even tastier.

The apple, peach and apricot version is also good—if a bit spicer than I'd like. It nominally contains dried fruits, but dried apricots and tinned peaches worked nicely.

'Grandma's Hot' is, predictably, properly spicey. The basic apple chutney is bit milder, and I think will mellow really nicely. Modified, as-concocted recipes will eventually make their way to the recipes page. Note, eventually.

Given the state of the apples, we also prepared enough apple mush to make a batch of sloe chutney, and a couple of jars of mincemeat. We probably won't get round to cooking either for a while, but purée-d apple freezes well. For the sloe chutney, one nominally uses the sloes from making sloe gin, but I'd like to make more chutney than one batch of gin will allow, so I plan to soften the sloes by soaking in the chutney vinegar, instead of gin. We'll see if that works!

All the chutney making relied on our lovely preserving pan, and the enormous wok-burner (a triple hob) on the new cooker. An excellent inauguration: it worked really well at heating the big 5l batches.

Colour Time-Bombs

I really like planting bulbs. They go in the ground unprepossessing, and a little boring; then, several months later, they come up and finally make a colourful impact. Spring bulbs, particularly, I like, as they come when it's cold and a bit miserable, and they're often the first thing of the year. I'm pleased, therefore, to have finished planting all the bulbs we'd ordered, having put the last of the Paperwhite narcissi in pots (hoping for Christmas blooms), and the hundred anemones in the wall (I think they failed last year from rotting off in damp ground; hence hoping that the well-drained wall will suit them better).

We also planted up the hanging baskets for their winter display. Two have curry plants, two have a lavender ('Walberton's Silver Edge'); the latter have Cat's Whiskers pansies, the former Amber Kiss. Then, all four have a couple of ivies, and some of the bronze sedge we keep growing.

The rest of the pansies have gone along the wall. I'd forgotten to say that the 'loose' cyclamen bulbs (ten thereof) have gone around the virginia creeper in the front, and a few in a pot with a conifer. Hopefully they'll take: I've never before grown cyclamen from naked corms. We also put another dozen (in four groups of three), but potted plants, outside the kitchen windows, in the wall, to add some colour. They're looking good there, and add some interest to the view: hopefully they'll thrive!

We picked up ten metres of 90cm-wide chicken wire from B&Q yesterday, to make some bins. It's been cut into three equal lengths, and I've twisted the edges together to make three collars (each with a diameter of about a metre: think 2πr). These have been placed near the prospective greenhouse site. We emptied a few bags of chippings from earlier this year into one (not very full); the bags of leaves from last year's clear-up into another (about half-full). Then we started collecting this year's leaves... These filled the hitherto empty bin, and we've had to put the rest on top of last year's, separated by a layer of cardboard. Once they start to rot down, we'll put all of this year's leaves into one bin: but there'll be more to collect, which we'll probably do in about three weeks. Leaf mould (broken down by fungal action, rather than the bacterial action in a compost bin) doesn't need the high temperatures of compost, so wire cages suit it well. On which note: I need to turn, aerate, and water the compost heap. Hopefully when I construct the new bin(s)...

Lastly: Gary's finished the floor, which is looking excellent, while we've been outside. Next weekend we'll hope to start the curtains and do the gloss work, which will both really add the finishing touches (I hope).

Flooring

Our joiner, Gary, started work on the floor yesterday, and continued this morning. He's working on it 'out of hours', as he's in charge of childcare during office hours. Works fine for us, although it has meant that the kitchen is a bit unusable during the day. Never mind: he's got on well, and should be finished tomorrow afternoon.

We were planning to do some of the finishing things in the kitchen today/tomorrow (gloss painting, shelf, things like that), but it's a bit tricky with the floor going down. Terrible shame; we've had to get out into the garden instead.

I finished planting the daffs, in clumps in the copse, and then around the lilac and clematises on the opposite side of the garden. The latter was just the last 40-odd bulbs, mainly 'Mando' and a mix of jonquilla (good scent, and multiple flowers per stem). Meanwhile, Liz finished the puschkinia swathe in the copse, and then pitched in with daffs. Lastly, we put 45 tulips (Shirley, and Attila') in the nursery bed (the long rectangular bed in the veg garden) for cut flowers. Yes, because there wasn't anywhere else to put them. We've still got a hundred Anemone blanda and some more narcissi 'Paperwhite' to go, which hopefully will be done tomorrow.

Meriadoc

Sadly, Merry died last night, probably in the early hours of the morning. It wasn't entirely surprising: she was quiet (unusual for her!) last night, and although she purred through a hug, and a special bowl of cat milk, she looked very tired.

Although she's been a real pain in the last few months, failing to find her litter tray, and getting in the way, I know we'll miss her madness (she 'visited' our neighbour a couple of weeks ago, walking up to her, shouting for several minutes, and then wandering off), and her laser-intent stare as she minced deliberately up to you. I think, though, that she faded away with relative grace, and she didn't seem to stop purring from when she moved in with us, 14 months ago, until we said 'good night' to her for the last time.

It's been awful weather this afternoon—torrential rain, high winds, and fog over the Pennines coming home—but I didn't want to leave her, so we went out this evening to bury her. She's now in the copse, a few feet from her old companion, Christmas (who died last autumn, and who's marked with Christmas Roses). I think we'll plant a catnip there, in the spring, probably a Nepeta racemosa 'Walker's Low', which she seemed fond of—for now, her grave's marked with an old roof-stone.