Thursday, 24 July 2014

Animals: Molly

Molly was the coolest cat - and my first. We found her dedraggled at an RSPCA centre. She was tiny with short, but scruffy, hair. As she shared a name my best friends Mum I went into her cell for a chat and she claimed me. She sat on my shoulder and drenched me with her tail that had been dangling in her drinking water and our mutual fate was sealed.

Small, shy, scruffy short haired cat became a solid long haired cat in no time. That was thirteen years ago. She was much like her owner, part cool part total disaster (aren't cats meant to be agile? She would often fall off a wall or miss the perch she aimed for, quickly glancing over her shoulder to see if she had been observed).

A month ago we found her; she had keeled over mid prowl. She was stretched out, as if about to dispatch yet another rodent. If she had to go she would have liked it that way. I was so relieved that she did not suffer, it was weeks of her absence that I appreciated how much she was missed.

Molly, rest in peace, you deserve it and you will very missed.

Friday, 18 July 2014

Does my garden still grow?

The pangs of my conscience boomed almost orchestral, as my garden became a wildlife haven good for supporting bees but remiss in the dinner time offerings. Will power out distracted and procrastination triumphant.

Then came the great purge and alongside nine trailer to the tip it slowly dissected wood from trees. If every fairy needs a tree and magician their cloak I found mine.

The great grotty garden gillet, home made yes but grim I admit. I put it on and time sped, a second became hours and I looked down and smiled to see grit ground into my nails and gardening entrails dangling from my hair. I was a mess but my garden was showing promise.

I refuse to turn it into a show garden, I love it's randomness. But the late salad crop will have to coexist with the important mini beast log pile house. You can see it here in the space that used to be a shantytown.

I will allow the flowers a little privacy this week while they settle down, but hope to link up soon, but in the meantime here is our fly eating pitcher plant that we have been decorating with bees and the sun.

Butt firmly kicked into gardening by the amazing Mammeskjur:


Thursday, 17 July 2014

My view right now

I had thought I would write about the purge at chaos cottage but I saw this instead.

The Pickle had just got her school report and The Hubster was reading it.

More about the great purge at another point.

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Saturday, 5 July 2014

Home made chocolate

First point before I start, never trust YouTube! It turned this recipe into an epic of Mum verses coconut and half way through I was left with the blade of table knife in my hand as the handle flew backwards across the kitchen while I attempted to demonstrate how not to kill yourself in pursuit of chocolate. Sod the sanitised versions, they don't work - it is a battle of wits and eventually we won but only after the process has been instantly promoted to family folklore and I can't possibly comment about that large scratch in the work surface...

A fresh coconut, dismembered violently then grated to liberate 4 table spoons of flesh.
4 table spoons cocoa powder
4 table spoons coconut oil* heated as necessary to make it liquid
Sugar to taste - we used 1 1/2 tablespoons of dark muscovado**
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

Mix the cocoa powder into the coconut oil until well blended, then add the rest of the ingredients (see note on sugar below) and mix well.
Scrape into a suitable container, I used a square bowl lined with cling film, and refridgerate. After about ten minutes take it out and score lines in it, so that later it will be easier to break.

When it is hard, break up and enjoy!

**add the sugar bit my bit, so you don't make it too sweet. It is great for little people to see how much sugar really goes into chocolate. Pickle remarked on now understanding why chocolate is not good for her - not that it stopped her from loving the results.
If you don't have muscovado don't worry. You can use Demerara but blitz it with a blender to a fine powder as otherwise it won't mix in so well.

* coconut oil seems to be a new wonder ingredient. Pull it through your teeth for virtual immortality, cleanse your face with it or just cook with it. Many websites seem devoted entirely to the joys of it. Either way, if you buy a pot you can probably find a use for it before it goes off.

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Location:Home natch

Tuesday, 20 May 2014

Is it just me?

I was reading Bibsey's blog  and having a good chuckle and I was inspired to mention things that have preoccupied me.

- is is just me that is strangely concerned about having matching underwear but in the run up to a holiday I end up wearing the saggy grey pants to save up the nice ones.

- is it just me that despite being able to compete in the stilletto Olympics I still walk like a builder in drag (with apologies to builders everywhere).

- I don't give a toss what parents are called, should I be Mummy or Sarah? Once we have decided on Mummy and you know it, then it is rude to refer to me as Sarah to my children.

- I thought when you went to a lovely party it was manners to send a thank you note. Now you are expected to send cards to say thank you for attending. Card manufacturers are having a laugh, count me out.

- while I like to think I would never be seen dead in Crocs many sensible and stylish friends have succumbed, I fear I maybe next.

- I don't care how much you house / car / holiday cost.

- I love my local hospital, doctors and school.

- I don't do trendy; if my look starts becoming too popular I get worried (thinking about my gorgeous heavy silk kimono jackets)

- I am proud of my age, I have enjoyed my life and both wrinkles and grey hairs come with the territory.

- I don't watch much TV,, I have not just seen this amazing new episode of Broadchurch/Dr Who/Breaking Bad. Yes, I probably would enjoy them, I know.

- there is a ratio of spending on skincare that directly correlates with the amount of weight that I put on.

- I drink sherry, so get over it! i am not 60 and you see funky hair chalks not a blue rinse.

- Despite my constant stream of ideas it takes older mum to kick my butt seasonally before I get around to updating my blog!

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Monday, 19 May 2014

I want mine cake with a dick in it

Mid life crisis? Possibly, but still I was quoting the great Dino Boy. As befits a little boy adept at communicating, thanks to his early start with the Blossom Method, he chatters away happily but pronunciation is a little tougher. He has more random consonants than the Polish language, hence stick becomes dick!

Is that an easier image?

We often read Bireman Dam on the dofa, but we do come unstuck in other areas. I have almost faced the wrath of the NSPCC when guy looks angelically at photos of him and his sister and shouts 'Pickle DIE' - he is not promoting murder of his sister, just he can't quite say his nickname 'the little Guy'.

He also loves ham, that is ham, beef ham, chicken ham, salmon ham or any other non vegetable ham. Pity, we were almost vegetarian before he came along!

The Dino Boy also has his own way of viewing the world, a little shock after the Pickle being almost spookily good. The other day he demolished one of big sister's special chocolates and when asked about it he just shrugged saying 'it is in my tummy so you can't have it back or I will go pop ***@brrrppp@@***'

He loves to do shows, often standing on anything precarious declaring 'ladies and gentleman I am a bedician I can make this disappear....'

This spring has been spent exploring language with a gorgeous two year old.
Pop over to older-mum to see what else has been happening this spring.

one week

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