Field of Moss

After starting the job at the weekend, I've now finished the lawn's first cut of the year. It's been a little mammoth, as it's been six months since its last cut, and it was a little rough. The weather has been favourable for moss, too, so there are large patches where the grass isn't doing so well, and where the moss has started to gain a foothold. Still, I don't propose doing much about it for now. A lot of the lawn will disappear over the coming years: once I know what will be left, I shall form a plan for weedkilling, feeding, and reseeding. For now, moss grows more slowly.

The clippings, though, have all but filled one bay of my composter. They'll collapse down quite quickly, no doubt, but it does highlight the fact that I need to complete at least one more bay—two won't keep me going for long. When it's this thick (and the mower's collector struggles), raking up takes as long as mowing.

We're still planning potato and onion planting at the weekend, along with moving topsoil and potentially erecting the fleece cage. The weather forecast has improved, so we might get two cool and dry days (it was suggesting rain on Sunday 'til today), which would be excellent. Speaking of weather, I've started to design a spreadsheet (or series thereof) to analyse the weather station's data. So; give me to the end of the month, and I'll have some (deeply fascinating, I'm sure) stats to share. A nerd's work is never done; nor a mower's, I fear.

Pile of Soil

A day working from home, for two-fold reasons: first, it lets me get on with administrative stuff that it's best to concentrate on; second, it let me schedule a delivery of top-soil on a weekday, and oversee its delivery. Not, you understand, because I'm a control freak, and wouldn't trust anyone else to set out the tarpaulin and make sure it's dumped in the right place, oh no.

Anyway: administrative work was accomplished, and the ever-obliging Tommy Topsoil arrived with another 6m³ of topsoil. The last lot arrived at the end of April last year, though it took us until August to move it all. I'm hoping, this time, to finish topping up the vegetable beds over the weekend, and we might then plant out the potatoes and onions. The seed potatoes arrived at the start of the month, and have been happily chitting away since: they're mostly coming on well. The first onion sets arrived in February, but the heat-treated sets are only just arriving: 200 New Fen Globe arrived today, and the 100 Hyred are on their way.

Earlier this week, 240m² of 30gsm horticultural fleece arrived, which is going to insulate the vegetable beds. I've also got an order for wood 1x1" stakes to construct a cage system to support the fleece, which should arrive on Saturday, along with timber to construct a second strawberry bed, and add horizontal framework to the raspberry cages (which will allow me to run horizontal wires along each bed to support the canes). With the fleece, I'm hoping the onions and potatoes will get off to a quick start: the soil's warming nicely, helped by a week of good weather.

The icing on the cake that is a day working from home was being able to nip out at lunch for a mooch: the puschkinia are out (and look lovely), and there's a blue tint to the bank from the squills. The daffodils are coming in to their own, with more and more out. So far, they're mostly yellows, but there are a few with orange corona and yellow perianth, and a few pale ones. Still, it's the cheerful yellow I love most, so that's fine. I'm very fond of puschkinia, too: they look white from a distance, but the blue striped racemes are elegant close-up.

The colour time-bombs are coming good.

Chipped

I was out on Saturday until late afternoon (a work 'away day'), leaving Liz to crack on with the huge pile of branches that needed chipping. I got home at about half-four to discover that she had put almost the entire, multi-cubic metre stack through the shredder, leaving us with a wire cage of mulch.

Impressed? I was.

While she finished off, I humbly assisted by bringing over the last branches, and cut the too-thick branches into logs or kindling ready to stack and dry. In finishing the chipping, she also uncovered three old pallets that I'd put down first, which is a bonus: building the compost bins last weekend nearly used up all my pallets in reclamation.

Today, I've started to mow the lawn for the first time this year. Not all of it; I got bored, frankly, and there were other things to do. I've done the entire middle lawn, though, which is important. The last mow of 2010 was only a half-done job, and then the weather turned and I never finished: I have a feeling it was 1st September. Anyway: the middle lawn thus hasn't been cut since August last year, and was badly in need. It's now been shorn, and looks better—though it may suffer a little in the short-term. The rest of the lawn is easier to do, and isn't as thick, so I hope to knock that off one evening this coming week.

So; these 'other things'. We've tidied the shed! By which I mean, emptied it, removed several bin-bags of rubbish, removed the things that belonged elsewhere (primarily the workshop and the garage), size-sorted the pots (more of those than I thought, and certainly not short of them), and 're-packed' the contents. With sufficient efficiency, I should say, to enable me to put the chipper, lawnmower, and garden vacuum in there—all of which were previously cluttering the workshop. This is much better, and everything's considerably better arranged.

We then pottered in the space assigned to the future greenhouse and shed. Measuring up, I think we have space for a 6' x 18' greenhouse (not a standard size, but common enough), and either a 6' x 15' shed, or an 8' x 10'. The current (rotting) shed is the latter size, but the site is a trapezium, so there are two options for filling it. I have an eye on possible sources for both, but we need to figure out the cost (especially of the foundation!), and make a plan. It may be that we get the shed this year (to remove the rotting eye-sore, which is impeding my view of the daffodils, which are starting to bloom (a few dozen are out), and preventing easy planning of the herb garden that will probably replace it), but leave the greenhouse 'til the spring sales of 2012.

Speaking of daffodils: enough are now out that Liz has been able to pick a few vases' worth. It looks as though this is a couple of weeks earlier than last year. It's also almost exactly a year since we ordered the wood for the raised beds, and I'm planning to order some more this week, to construct the fleece/netting cages for the vegetable beds and a second strawberry bed (an extended version of the rhubarb bed we planned but didn't build). Also this week, we'll receive another 6m³ of topsoil, to finish filling the vegetable beds, and hold in reserve for later things. The potatoes are chitting nicely, so things are coming together well.

Synchronised

On my way home on Friday, I noticed how many of the crocuses on my route were going over. I was pleasantly surprised to see, yesterday, that although the crocuses have now all but vanished, the daffodils amongst them have started to come out over the same weekend. Not all, but enough for a splash of colour.

Perfect timing.

Wood work

A fairly productive weekend, which is gratifying. On Saturday, I dismantled a few old pallets, and rebuilt them (with an old 6' fence panel) into most of a two-bay compost bin. Not quite finished, but back and sides, and the mechanism at the front for sliding in slats—but no slats prepared. I also finished the top wall of the C-shaped vegetable bed, which I hadn't managed last September before the weather turned. That's quite important: we've got another 6 cubic metres of soil arriving next Friday (to finish the beds, and ready for the next project), and that needs somewhere to go. While I was doing this, Liz got started on the huge pile of prunings and cotoneaster that we've accumulated over the past months.

Then, today, I've started moving the old compost bin's contents into a new bay; I haven't got far, though, as I was also helping with the chipping by disentangling branches and bringing them to the chipper (the extension cable won't quite reach the heap, annoyingly). The wire-mesh 'chippings bin' is now a bit more than twice as full, and the heap is reduced—somewhat. I also managed to (finally) put up the weather station's sensor array, which I've mounted on a six foot post that's been built into a corner of the raised beds. I modified it slightly, to allow the temperature/humidity/transmitter array to be lower than the wind/rain sensors, as I'm more interested in the temperature near the plants. I need to configure the data capturing on the base station, but it will soon start collecting analysable data.

We're starting to put some thought to a possible greenhouse (and shed): I think the available plot is going to be about 3.6m by 6.1m (or 12' by 20'), which opens up the possibility of an 8x20 greenhouse, and a long narrow shed alongside ('behind'). However, that's not going to come cheaply!

The bulbs are starting to come out: there's about three daffs out, and a handful of each of the scilla and puschkinia. I think they'll be properly out and glorious by next weekend, with a little luck.

Potatoes and Cat-Doors

On Tuesday, a new cat-flap arrived. We've had some trouble with a local tom (we think) breaking in, terrorising the cats, and stealing food. He, or our two in response, have also been doing some marking, which is fun for no-one. We've looked at cat-flaps which use a magnetic collar to identify the cats and allow the right ones in, but—given that Domino seems to loose collars every six months or so—this didn't seem optimal. However, we have found one that uses the RFID microchips that the cats have implanted to identify them. Once 'learnt', it detects the chips when the cats approach the flap, and allows only our two in. Tail-gating could be a problem, I suppose, but it should reduce the problem. Anyway: the new flap is now installed (very straightforwardly, I should add).

A myriad of tidying and sorting tasks have also been completed, and we also made five litres of carrot soup (from a sack of horse-carrots that were going a bit...wild). Finally, we've put the seed potatoes out into egg cartons to chit, and sown some more seeds (Early Nantes carrots, scarlet kale, peas, Brussels sprouts, celeriac, and ipomoea).

Sadly, we have to go back to work tomorrow, but we managed to finish manuring the beds, by bringing up another 14-odd barrows to finish the second raspberry bed, the 'Q' vegetable bed, and the long vegetable bed. The 'C' bed is going to be roots, so no manure for it. In 2009, when we brought manure up, we had to take a long route round, but this time I removed a couple of fence-planks, so we could bring the barrow to the fence near the kitchen garden, lift it over, and carry on. It's reduced the journey to almost a third, which is vastly better. I've now re-attached the fence planks with screws, so it'll be even easier next time.

Manuring the Beds

We've managed a few hours in the garden, at last. Our neighbour's horse's copious 'production' is piled at the bottom of the field beneath the house, so we've trekked back and forth with the wheelbarrow, collecting manure for the fruit beds. A dozen barrows later (oh, my aching back), the gooseberry/currant/blueberry beds are done, and one raspberry bed. More of this tomorrow morning...

We picked up 80 new gladioli from the garden centre yesterday morning: the 'frost free' location we'd stored the bulbs in after lifting was not, in fact, free from frost over the bitter cold of December (about -10°C, some nights), and the bulbs are almost certainly dead. We also got some P and K fertilizer, and admired the spring hanging baskets: we need to replace our baskets, and plant them up, but their new-season baskets haven't arrived yet. Couple of weeks, hopefully.

Almost Finished

We're very nearly there...the walls are all done, the skirting board has had its second coat, and the windowsills have all been done. The floor needs cleaning, and there are a few bits and pieces, but...

Overcome by the Fumes

The shelves in the pantry, and on the wall, are now a lovely green (matching the cupboard doors). However, working in the confined space of the pantry with the fumes has rather taken a toll on Liz. Fresh air worked wonders, though. We're making good progress, and have turned the walls in the utility room 'Timeless', too. I've painted the spice rack, which will go back on the wall, and the plinths, green, and touched up the oak beams.

Constructing

I've spent rather a large fraction of today making a box. Not just any box, but one that will fit into the recess in front of the 'old' front door in the kitchen. This door, which was solid, was replaced by a half-glazed door last summer. We don't particularly want or need a door in that corner—at least, not most of the time. However, it's the only way to get, for example, a range cooker or sofa into/out of the house, so it was necessary to keep it. As our builder said, one should never block up a door. However, it sits behind the kitchen table, and, because of its inaccessibility, looks rather odd. Hence, the box, which will hopefully make it look more like a window. This was always our intention: it matches the windows, and has pots of plants outside it to 'hide' it.

So, my box. Almost constructed, and needs painting. Meanwhile, Liz has been industriously priming plinths, shelves, pantries, and utility rooms. I think tomorrow we can break out the 'proper' cream and green paints.

Someone Else's DIY

We got back around lunch-time from a weekend in Ludlow, visiting Liz's grandmother. It's always a pleasure visiting her, as a relaxing and undemanding schedule is usually obeyed. Breakfast, coffee/elevenses, lunch, tea, dinner, supper. This appeals enormously. In between, she usually has a list of bits-and-pieces that need doing in the house or garden, preferably by someone younger/stronger/more inclined. It seems a fair trade, to me: food and company, for minor handiwork. I fixed her non-filling water-butt (not, as suggested, a problem with the gutter or diverter, but with the tap, which meant it emptied as quickly as it filled); re-levelled her garden swing-sofa-thing; got the pump in the pond working again; put up a shelf; and installed a solar trickle-charger in her car.

Ludlow's a lovely town to visit, and we had a good wander around the Saturday market and Bread Walk, while we were there.

We're on leave this week, and hope to get the finishing touches in the kitchen done (some of them minor, some less so), as well as a bit of pottering in the house and garden. To that end, we've spent a few hours preparing the way in the kitchen; moving the table out, and things off the shelves and windowsills. We've also taken down the cupboards in the utility room, and removed the washing machine.

Hopefully, by the end of the week, the kitchen will look as it is meant to, and I can soon take and post some before vs. after photos.

Soda Bread

As requested, I've put the recipes for two soda breads onto the recipes page. As suggested, the whisky soda bread could be a nice treat for St Patrick's Day (17th March).

Soda bread, for the uninitiated, is a quick bread, whereby the leavening is achieved through an acid-base reaction (instead of fermentation by yeast). It's useful where fermentation flavours are undesirable, where the dough doesn't have the gluten-originating elasticity to hold bubbles; or where you're in a hurry. The reagents are typically the lactic acid present in buttermilk or yoghurt, and sodium bicarbonate. Buttermilk is the slightly fermented milk left after skimming the cream off; yoghurt is rather further fermented. Sometimes 'plain' milk is used, but acid in the form of lemon juice (citric acid) is added. Alternatively, plain milk and baking powder could be used—baking powder contains both the base (bicarbonate of soda) and the acid (e.g., cream of tartar/potassium bitartrate and sodium aluminium sulphate).

Here endeth the chemistry lesson.

Snow!

Saturday morning caught us by surprise, as we hadn't anticipated snowfall: nonetheless, there were a few inches waiting. This rather reduced our enthusiasm for a day outside, which we therefore postponed to today. Saturday then vanished in pottering, tidying, and cleaning, but never mind; at least I got a big (72 rolls) batch of bread made, which should keep us going for two or three weeks.

Today, we've been rather more productive. Although we finished the kitchen curtains some time ago, we didn't make the tie-backs for them (nor are the requisite hooks up, but that's another story). We've started to address this, and have made three pairs, and cut the fabric for a fourth. At the same time, I finished a tablecloth from an off-cut of the curtain fabric, with a cream border to make it large enough. That leaves us with a pair to cut, and two to sew—and curtains and tie-backs for the utility room.

The snow having thawed somewhat, we also ventured outside, to get a few things done. First was pruning the fruit bushes (and a couple of other things), as the currants, gooseberries, and blueberries all needed attention. The acer and buddleja in the front also had a trim, actually. We then sowed some more seeds: peppers, aubergines, leeks, clematis (C. integriflora, a short species), more cauliflowers, carrots and parsnips. Who knows, some may even germinate. Some pyrethrum/chrysanths, which arrived last week, we potted up, too.

It's the time of year when I get excited about buds and shoots. In addition to the daffodils and crocuses which I've incessantly mentioned, the bluebells/scilla/puschkinia are all on their way up, and I've spotted promising buds on the lilac, rose, honeysuckles, rhubarb, fruit bushes, and acer. And some tulips are showing above ground, too. Now, if only I had a bit more time, and it wasn't so cold, I'd spend some more time outside.

The leaky chimney which vexed me a fortnight ago is now hopefully repaired. Our regular builder (he of the kitchen work) popped in on Friday and applied some sort of magic sealant, which should do the job. I suspect another look at it may be on the cards for the summer, but his rates are (very) reasonable, so I'm sanguine for now. There will, no doubt, be enough rain in my immediate future to establish whether it still leaks.

Crocuses Aplenty

A very pleasant weekend, with a couple of walks, a visit to my parents, and plenty of food (including a rather good whisky soda bread). A few plants arrived, too: some single and double freesia bulbs (to go in once the frosts are past), short-stemmed lilies, and six chrysanthemums (Pyrethrum). I also received a very pretty ornamental Japanese cherry (Prunus incisa) Kojo-no mai: it's got zig-zag stems, and grows to around 1.8 m tall and wide. It'll probably remain in its pot for the spring (so the blossom can be inside, spreading its scent), and possibly in a bigger pot for another year (until its permanent home can be determined!). Cherry blossom is a rather short-seasoned treat, but the advantage of Kojo-no mai is the winter interest of its contorted stems.

This morning I've been greeted by a real density of crocuses on the ride to work. They were just coming up last Monday, but they seem to have really taken off since last Thursday, and that stretch of roadside is quite covered.

I've a new toy that I'm looking forward to setting up this week, if I can: a logging weather station. It will allow 15-minute logging of temperature/humidity, pressure, rainfall, and wind direction and speed, which I can then geekily analyse. As well as technophilic satisfaction, the temperature records will, I hope, be of use in the garden (for sowing, planting, cropping and protecting plans), as will the rainfall (because we work on the Other Side of the Pennines, it's sometimes hard to gauge the rain that's fallen at home). The wind gauge is more speculative: mostly interesting, it might be of use in determining the suitability of a wind turbine.

Any way: I plan to mount the sensor suite on a post amongst the fruit cages (where it will hopefully blend in, not be too obvious, and provide relevant data. With some luck, I may manage it this week; otherwise, it'll happen at the weekend.

Seedlings

It looks as though about three-quarters of the cauliflowers we sowed have come up (which is good), but only one of the sweetpeas (which is bad), and so far none of the strawberries (which is worse!). Hopefully they're just tardy, and will yet appear, but it's also entirely credible that the seeds were no longer viable. Nonetheless, I might sow some more, in the hope of getting a few plants.

Otherwise, the bulbs are growing apace, and the mornings are discernibly brightening, both of which are encouraging. The first of our onion sets (the Autumn Gold Improved) arrived a few days ago, so they're ready to go out as soon as it's a bit warmer, and not likely to frost.

At long last, the boiler replacement is complete. It was operational a couple of days after starting (that is, mid January), but the replacement flue was delayed, and was only fitted yesterday. It's a lot thinner than the old one, which is good; I haven't seen the roof-top vent in the light, yet. Apparently, though, the pointing on the roof ridge is in poor shape, so that will need to be added to my list of summer jobs.

Crocuses & Leaks

We've had really strong winds over the last five days or so, and awfully heavy rain. The drain off the hillside opposite the house is struggling, and there's a pair of visible streams running off the hill feeding it (it usually restricts itself to a subterranean source). The big problem with the wind has been that the fleece covering some of the new perennials has been blown about, and is a bit worse for the wear; and there are several split seams in the fruit netting. We stitched the nets together using cord that hasn't worn too well, it transpires, and there were five splits this yesterday. I've repaired four of them, using the same twine (no better material on hand), but will have to find something better: possibly a polypropylene cord. The last split is on one of the raspberry cages, which isn't within reach—and the ground's too wet and the wind too high to go up on a stepladder. Temporary fix, therefore, was all I could manage.

The other unfortunate result of the heavy rain is that we have a leaking roof. Probably not caused by the weather, but potentially. I think the cause is leaking flashing from the chimney, which means rain is running down the outside of the chimney, through the loft space, and coming through the bedroom ceiling. It's not a huge quantity of water, but it's going to require some ceiling repairs, and a careful look at the joist holding up the ceiling. My builder is coming out to look at the flashing as soon as he can...

Old houses: don't you love them? At least it's not as bad as the (new) Glaswegian block of flats that lost its roof last week.

In brighter news, I discovered that several pots of crocuses have come up, so I moved them from the 'out of season' area near the workshop to the more prominent patio outside the kitchen. More daffodils, including a few of the 2009 planting, are coming up: the ones that were already above ground are really getting going now! The bank at the edge of the garden under the track is also thickly covered with new bulbs coming up: puschkinia, scilla, muscari, and narcissi. In the same vein, I spotted a few crocuses on my ride to work (on Upper Brook Street, Manchester). I've been keeping an eye for the last couple of weeks, but today was the first time I've spotted them.

Seed Potatoes and Onion Sets

After a very pleasant weekend with Hazel and Alex staying, we've finally managed to get round to ordering the seed potatoes and onion sets for the year. The potatoes are all from Thompson and Morgan, and we've ordered twenty tubers of each:

• 'Rocket': a very early First Early, which also yields well.
• 'Lady Christl': a fast First Early, but can be left in the ground to crop as a heavier Second Early.
• 'Juliette': can be lifted as a Second Early, but may be left in the ground to bulk out further before cropping as an early Maincrop.
• 'Belle de Fontenay': an early Maincrop.
• 'Druid': a late, heavy-yielding Maincrop which stores well.
• 'Golden Wonder': a late, versatile Maincrop which improves on storage.
• 'Orla': nominally a Second Early, but can be held back (with careful storage) for a Second Cropper (planted out after Second Earlies are lifted).
• 'Vivaldi': another nominal Second Early, which we'll aim to hold back as a Second Cropper.

Second Croppers are allowed to chit, and stored somewhere cool, with bright indirect light. They can then go in the ground in August, and should provide new potatoes through the autumn. They need good insulation to survive frosts: if they're grown in a bag, they can be moved to a greenhouse. Ideally, one wouldn't grow them in a space just vacated by potatoes, but if the soil's re-fed, they'll cope.

Onion-wise, we've gone to Marshalls Seeds, and got the following:

• Autumn Gold improved: not heat-treated, and mainly so that we don't have all our eggs in one basket (x100).
• New Fen Globe: our maincrop! Can get big (250–500 g), and stores well from harvest in autumn until the following May (x200).
• Hyred: a good storer, and rounder than the 'standard' Red Baron (x100).

Red onion sets are no more expensive than the others, hence including 100 red sets for some variety, or when red onions are better. We also ordered some celeriac seed ('Monarch'), which should be fun.

Hopefully they'll all arrive in the next few weeks, and they can go in the ground in March.

Just as a note: the last of the paperwhite narcissi has just gone over; just as the tips of the spring daffodils are coming up outside. The paperwhites will be dead-headed, and then given a low-nitrogen feed, to best prepare them for flowering next year. Once they've died back, we'll lift them, and store them somewhere cool and dry. No guarantee, but with some luck, they'll flower again next Christmas.

First Sign of Daffodils

We've done a few chores in the garden, and had another batch of croissant-making. The latter went well, quicker than last time, and we've frozen the formed croissant pre-proving. We're hoping that these can then be taken out of the freezer one evening, defrost and rise overnight, and then be baked fresh for breakfast. That would be very useful, as they'll then be fresh—the alternative, baking them, freezing them, and reheating them, certainly works, but they're nicer fresh.

Outside, we sowed a few seed: a dozen cauliflowers (with a plan to sow at least one more crop), a tray of alpine strawberries (the plants we've had for a few years are cropping much less well, and probably need replacing), and a few dozen sweet peas. We've had a look through our seed collection, and planned roughly what will go where. A lot are a year past their best-before, but we'll sow them and see what comes up in order to run our stock down, before buying fresh for next year. We need, next, to decide on quantity and variety of potatoes. I'm thinking a couple of kilos of first-earlies, the same of second-earlies, and about 4 kg of main crop seeds. Although we definitely want some Belle de Fontenay, the other positions are up for grabs. Maybe some more Blue Danube? They cropped well, and are storing well; the same's true of the Axona.

While pottering, we also spotted the tips of the new daffodils, and—as best we can tell—some of the Puschkinia or Scilla. There's no sign, as yet, of the daffodils we planted in 2009, or those that were already in the garden (in small groups at the edges of the beds, and under the trees): only the new ones. A little perplexing, but hopefully the older ones will show soon. Nonetheless, it's exciting to see the signs of what I'm hoping will be a really colourful display from late March until mid-May.

Of course, a huge number of weeds have also germinated in the high beds where the Puschkinia/Scilla/daffs went, because we cleared so much undergrowth when planting them. I'm wondering about the best approach: I think mulching with bark, or similar, might be a necessity.

Weekend of Food

Our weekend was spent with university friends, who had assembled by Saturday morning. Much food was consumed, including slow cooker roast pork, a large quantity of cheese (including rather good camembert, and wedges of Roquefort and Saint Agur), the pastries prepared earlier and a bottle of blackberry & elderberry wine. There were, predictably, a number of games played (Settlers, Twaddle, Articulate, and Categorically Speaking) as well, so—in all—it was a very enjoyable weekend. Now we just have to launder a huge pile of bed-linen. Never mind, it's definitely worth it.

Yoghurt and Patisseries

A few years ago, we tried making yoghurt (using our usual off-the-shelf 'live' yoghurt as a starter). It wasn't very successful, turning out very runny and a bit grainy, although it tasted fine. Having found better instructions, and obtained a thermometer (also useful for wine making), we thought we'd try again.

Accordingly, we mixed 900 ml of whole milk with three tablespoons of milk powder (semi-skimmed); warmed it to 46°C; and stirred in a few tablespoons of live yoghurt. We poured the lot into a pair of half-litre vacuum flasks, and left it until this morning (about 15 hours), when I decanted it into a plastic tub and moved it to the fridge.

The result? Considerably more yoghurt-like. It's a bit gooey, I suppose, and not quite the same consistency as the commercial stuff. However, it tastes good, and, hopefully, is good for us. Certainly it works out cheaper: about 60p per litre, compared to £1.70—though I should add a little bit to that for the gas (negligible, seeing as a whole year of cooking gas is about £45) and milk powder (about 8p per litre, I estimate). Probably about a 55% saving, and that can only be good, especially when combined with the satisfaction of making it.

On the topic of making things, I spent a couple of hours during our last days of holiday (Monday/Tuesday) making a new chopping board. When the kitchen sinks were installed, corresponding pieces of worktop had to be cut out, which I saved. I smoothed (chisel) the sides of the smaller, which was about 40 x 30 cm, and gave it a thorough sand, before applying a couple of coats of oil. It'll need more oil, but it's come up really nicely. Obviously, it perfectly matches the sides, and is a nice size for use (though it's pretty heavy, as the sideboard is a really dense oak).

The larger piece (about 60 x 40 cm) will need slightly more preparation (less neat sides), but I'll try to do the same to it when I can. It will, of course, be even heavier, but a big board will be useful. I should also sand and re-oil our old butchers block, because that's badly worn now, after considerable use.

Next weekend, we have a number of friends coming to stay, for a belated Christmas/New Year get-together. It seemed an ideal opportunity to bake stuff, so we had a try at croissant and Danish pastries. We made a foray into pâtisserie a few years ago, making some croissant from a recipe in my big book of bread. They were very tasty, but—as anyone who's tried them will tell you—a labour of love. The traditional 'construction' recipe has several iterations of folding, butter spreading, and refrigerating to build up the 32 layers of butter and 33 layers of pastry/dough that is considered optimal (a process that always makes me think of Damascus steel, but that's my metallurgy background for you). This takes hours, frankly.

However, we—or, I should say, Liz's dad—came across a far better way of making them, which has only a brief refrigeration, one application of butter, and is far more feasible. Basically, after making the dough, and chilling it once, you apply a single slab of butter, and through cunning folding, achieve the 32 layers needed in one session of rolling and folding. No further chilling required. Once the laminated slab is made, it's a 'simple' task to cut into squares, and form into croissant or Danish pastries (we cheated and used the same dough, but encased a blob of marzipan, and adorned with an apricot). We tried one of each, and they're delicious: they'll now be frozen, and brought out for breakfast next Sunday (brief warming through optional, but recommended).

This week, we're having the oil boiler replaced, as the old one has a number of inadequacies, not least that it is non-condensing, and probably about 40% efficient. The new one is a big, high-efficiency condenser (97% nominal efficiency), which should mean less oil use. Unfortunately, this means a couple of days without heating, but the forecast for the week is much less bitter than it has been.

Marmalade

In a moment of madness, I forgot entirely to mention making marmalade yesterday. I attribute it to the enormous number of other activities, if that's credible.

Anyway: I should immediately confess that we cheated. We used a tin of Mar-Made, but made additions. Firstly, we added the peel from two extra oranges, and two extra lemons. Then, instead of just adding water, we used the juice from the extra fruit, and made it up to the required quantity of water, before adding the sugar.

It seems to have worked really well: it got to the setting point a little quicker than the instructions suggested (just by a couple of minutes), probably due to the extra pectin in the peel we added. Very tasty (based on small samples), and now in jars waiting for an excuse to try some... Oh, and much faster than starting from a bag of citrus fruit, though purists might object.

Busy Year-End

A busy, but productive couple of days!

We went out to the garden centre, to take advantage of the post-Christmas sale. No plants (no beds), but some Christmas sundries that were reduced.

Once home, we've been Making. As with many other things, sloe gin/blackberry brandy were delayed from the autumn: we collected the fruit in mid-September, but had to freeze it. We changed the recipes for them, using 340 g of fruit (instead of 225 g), and 110 g of sugar, to 750 ml of spirits. The sloes were noticeably easier to prick, having been frozen, which may be a tip to remember. Last year, we made the gin straight after picking the fruit. As normal, the gin and brandy have both begun taking on the colour of the fruit, and (with regular shaking for the next month or so) they should be ready to bottle in about March.

In The Times' cooking section a week (or so) ago, there was a recipe for lebkuchen. I really like these German gingerbread biscuits, but—despite trying about five recipes—I've never found one that quite replicates the taste of biscuits bought from Germany. Accordingly, I was honour-bound to try this one. Result: a credible biscuit. Still not perfect, sadly, but very good. I shall, when time permits, note the recipe.

Lastly, we made about six pounds of mincemeat, in a display of extravagant organization. It will now have twelve months to mature! It started yesterday, with mixing the ingredients: they then mellow over-night, and we cooked it this afternoon in the slow cooker for about six hours. The alternative was in the oven for three, but the slow cooker seemed more appropriate (and is very abstemious with electricity use: about 0.1 kW, compared to the oven's 3.5 kW). It looks, smells, and tastes delightful, and I'm already looking forward to the mincepies. I finished it off (once cooled) with last year's blackberry brandy. As I said above, when I can, I'll note the recipe: we actually have several, courtesy of our National Trust preserves book, but this was actually from another book. Experimentation, perhaps, next year. The apples were from the hill side, so there'll be plenty more next autumn.

Wine Bottling

Although it was ready for this step a month or two ago, I hadn't had time to get round to it. However, today I have: the blackberry, and blackberry & elderberry wines I made last autumn are now bottled. Straightforward process of syphoning the wine from the demi-johns into 75 cl bottles, and corking: minimal spillage, and I now have six bottles of the former, and four of the latter.

While I had all the kit out, I also racked the elderflower wine I made in July. It has an excellent bouquet (very elderflowery), a good vinous taste, and is also very dry. Possibly too dry, but we'll see. That, at least, is relatively easy to correct, and I was aware when making it that it was a dry recipe.

Cider

After a very pleasant couple of days off, we had a more 'productive' day, tidying the study. Which I shall elaborate upon no further, as it wasn't that enthralling.

Instead: an excellent Christmas day, with very successful cooking. Amusingly, the day started with Liz asking what would happen if the gas ran out while cooking (propane cylinders outside feed the cooker, as we're not on the national gas network). Low-and-behold, the gas ran out while cooking lunch. A quick trip to fetch a spare, and hook it up solved the problem. The one that ran out was hooked up on 22nd December 2009, so the cylinder has lasted a tiny bit over a year. I reckon this one won't make it quite as far—we had a two-week cooking hiatus while the kitchen was being 'done', and with a stove-top kettle now in use, we'll burn it faster. Still, that should mean no repeat of this morning's hilarity. I shall now promptly order a replacement, so we maintain a back-up.

In addition to some cat-featuring coasters and table mats (Cats In Waiting from Ulster Weavers, and 'Ottoline' mats from the British Museum), a Paper Potter that I've had my eye on for a while, we received the excellent River Cottage Every Day. We've been watching the series, and the book seems to have all of the recipes, which until now I've had to write out as we went, which is never satisfactory.

Before tackling the study, we also started a cider kit I bought some time ago, but not got round to. It's a simple one: you mix the contents with sugar and water, and leave it to stand until primary fermentation's complete. You then put it into a pressure barrel with some extra sugar (secondary fermentation on this makes it fizz!), and decant as desired.

Night-Before Preparation

Few more preparations for the Christmas lunch...we've made a batch of mince pies (and bread, but that's not unusual), iced the cake (actually yesterday, but never mind), and I've prepared the turkey (removed the breasts, and re-bundled as a bone-less joint; I also removed the wings and legs (going to the in-laws, who provided the bird, for use), and stripped the carcase of scraps for soup/casserole) and stuffing (a concoction, as normal, of bacon, turkey bits, onion, spices, and breadcrumbs—seems to have worked). Almost ready!

Pipes, Presents, Preparations and Pins

Mum and dad's visit yesterday went well (just quick, not least because it's snowy and travel's unpleasant); today's social worker visit has been rearranged to the New Year—she's fallen in the snow and aggravated an injury, preventing driving.

The house is now fully decorated, and there's an inordinate amount of greenery through the rooms. Upstairs, as normal, has escaped significant adornment, but there's a lot of holly, ivy, pine, and decorations downstairs. We finished making runners for the windows, too, which all look good, and enliven the sills.

This evening, we've done some of the preparing for the Christmas lunch, making a mango sorbet and chicken liver pâté. The latter, we've made before, very successfully and easily. It's good made in advance, and sealed under butter: once it's started, though, it needs to be eaten quite quickly. Which is fine, admittedly, and never a problem. The sorbet is new to us, and was splendidly simple to create...and will, I hope, taste good.

Unfortunately, the recent cold weather froze the pipes in the roof space above the utility room, and they chose this afternoon to thaw...revealing that both pipes had split. After staunching the flow, I had to reach into the loft, remove the split sections of pipe, and spliced in repairs. The only things I had available were, in fact, stopcocks, which aren't quite normal, but function well as over-specified straight connectors. This being a one-man job (the hatch to the space is a foot square, and one can't climb in), I left Liz wrapping the Christmas presents, and at least the tree now looks complete. Extra lagging is on order for the pipes: while I was up there, I've also installed loft insulation, as there was a minimum already in place.

Curtains

Finally, we got on with making curtains for the kitchen. Liz had started on of them, to check how it was going to work, a while ago, but we've spent the weekend working on the set. There are five windows in the dining room, which are all now finished (bearing some tweaking of the gathers). Unfortunately, we didn't quite get to the matching pair for the utility room, but never mind. The kitchen looks much better with curtains that are the right length, and all the same...

It's snowed again, too, and the track is not pleasant. We're not due more snow until Thursday, probably, but it's cold enough that what we have will almost certainly remain.

Of course, the curtains pretty much entirely occupied the weekend, so we've not got anything else to speak of done. It's a bit of a busy week ahead, predictably: we're at work Monday and Tuesday, then have visitors on Wednesday, a social worker coming on Thursday, and then preparations for Christmas Day (we're cooking the dinner...) will probably take up Friday!

Now: where did I put the wrapping paper?

Christmas Decorations

A busy weekend, partly spent outside, and partly in. We lifted the gladioli, which have been flowering since October. They hadn't really stopped, and we cut some of the flowers quite recently—but the snowfall has stopped them in their tracks, and I wanted to get them lifted as soon as possible, as they're not meant to be left out over the winter. As such, the thaw (the soil's no longer frozen, which helps!) was an opportunity. They're not looking in bad shape, considering they've been lifted before having a chance to die back naturally (one is meant to leave them for six weeks after flowering, to all the foliage to yellow and wither—but that would put us in mid-January).

Last year, we lifted them in mid November. Hopefully, they'll go into dormancy safely, and I can tidy them up (trim off the rest of the leaves, and extraneous roots), before putting them somewhere cold and dry until the spring.

After a general tidy-up (more leaves into the leaf-bin, some trimming, and the like), we came in, and have been making some Christmas decorations. We picked up some festive fabric while visiting friends. Some has been cut into two tablecloths (for the dining room), which will need hemming. Another piece has been edged with some red & gold holly print fabric, for a kitchen tablecloth, and several pieces of green & gold holly print have turned into runners to go along the windowsills. We had a few of these from previous years, to brighten the windows and complement the other decorations, and now have a complete set. Few bits still need doing (hems on tablecloths, mainly!), and I have a plan for some table-mats, but they'll all have to wait.

Christmas Cake

As alluded to, we made our Christmas cake on Monday. The recipe is on the recipe page, which I've also updated with some of the chutneys we made last month. There are two apple chutneys (the third, 'Grandma's Hot', will go up at some point, promise); and also a mango chutney which worked nicely.

The Christmas cake is the one we usually make (although I'm tempted to try a different one next year): it's very good, though it takes forever to cook. The original recipe suggests 3/3.5 hours, but it's never done in that. This year took about 4.5 hours, in what is turning out to be a pretty good oven. Never mind: it tastes good when done.

Decorating

It's been a successful weekend, all in all. I've trimmed the new kitchen plinths to length, and then cut them to the right height (complicated by the non-parallel gap): I've put some 'loft' insulation behind the plinth on the sink units, as these (against the outside wall) get very cold, and essentially cause a draught. I've sorted out a join in the skirting board that was bothering me. I cut and installed a replacement end-panel (on the end of the units near the door to the sitting room: the original was veneered MDF, which I didn't like) out of pine-board, and trimmed & installed the filler panel on right-hand end of the other run. The 'spare' cupboard is now in the utility room (very useful); and, lastly, I've put up a high shelf where we took one down (above the units that include the fridge).

Having managed that, we put up a few hooks and nails, so some pictures, etc, are now hung, and the kitchen looks altogether more finished.

We've constructed a (frankly) huge swag from conifer and holly foliage, to go above the sitting room fire, and threaded some lights through it. It might be a little too large, really, but it looks good. The Christmas tree is in place (but unlit or decorated), and we've strung up holly boughs and branches around the sitting room and dining room. Starting to look the part! The rest of the decorations will have to wait.

As it was Liz's birthday, we had today off work, and popped over to Leeds' Christmas Market (good fun; some nice stalls, and we'll probably go again next year), before spending the evening with her parents. She's got some really nice gifts, including a tasteful pair of hand-knitted gloves, a very pretty embroidered table runner, and the Le Creuset stove-top kettle she's been coveting.

We also made our Christmas cake (yes, a bit late): more on that next time.

A pleasant weekend, although the snow's getting a bit much: here's a vote for a bit of a thaw...

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.

Timeless Paint

Another early start (for a Sunday), and the topcoat of Timeless Dulux Kitchen+ paint has gone on the kitchen walls. It's looking good: so too is the white silk on the ceiling. After the kerfuffle with the undercoats, the final coats went on really well. We still need to do the gloss work and make the curtains (next weekend?), and obviously the floor needs to go down (starting next Friday), but it's looking almost complete.

I forgot to say yesterday; once we'd finished the bulbs in the bank and verge, we were left with about 100 daffodils, and about the same of each of the puschkinia and scilla. We're putting the daffs in groups in the copse, and adding the others in two (discrete) swathes.

Finally, we've potted up the perennials from Van Meuwen:

• Echinacea
• Aquilegia
• Gypsophila
• Hollyhock (Alcea rosea)
• Chinese Lantern (Physalis alkekengi)
• Lupin
• Kniphophia (Red Hot Pokers)
• Sea holly (Eryngium maritimum)
• Delphinium
• Liatris

I think we're just about sorted for the return to work tomorrow, though everything's finished a bit late. That's because we discovered that the central heating plumbing had a slow leak (radiator at the top of the stairs), which has affected the sitting room ceiling. After getting the floor up, it looks like the connection from the 15mm leg of the radiator to the 8mm supply hasn't sealed. Plumber out tomorrow, and in the mean time a bodge repair (silicon sealant and PVC tape: crude but reasonably effective).

Merry's still not doing well; we've been making her hot water bottles to make sure she's warm (she considers this a fine, and long-overdue, plan), and she's been getting plenty of attention. Poor girl probably doesn't have long, though; but at 17½, she's done alright.

Bulbs, Once More

Well, the kitchen looks like it might finally be ready for a top coat. We started (early) with a second white coat, and had hopes of doing the Timeless (and white silk on the ceiling) late afternoon. However, the white hasn't dried properly (no idea why: it was meant to be over-coatable in four hours), so it must wait until tomorrow.

As there was no option of painting, we spent the afternoon planting yet more bulbs! Having established that a daffodil bulb weighs about 50 g (or that there's about 20 per kilogram), we've got about a thousand to plant; we've done about half today. Liz continued putting the puschkinia, muscari and scilla in the corner bank; I've put the daffodil groups in between these, and also put clumps along the verge outside the house, and on the verge opposite (there's no house opposite, only a field, so I'm not encroaching on someone's plot!). I've done the groups in various sizes, of 3–12 bulbs, and hopefully they'll really brighten the lane when they're up. I don't know why, but I find odd numbers of bulbs (or other plants) seem to work best in groups; hence, most of the groups are 3, 5, 9 or 11.

The other nice thing is that they'll give me an excuse not to trim the verge for a while...as it'd disturb the bulbs!

Paint Resistant Paint

This morning we've been painting the undercoats in the kitchen. Because the new paint is very nearly white (it's called 'Timeless', which leads to questions about marketing teams choosing paint colours), then we're undercoating with pure white (watered down, first, on the new plaster).

The new plaster is straightforward; less so, the old (slightly yellow?) paint. I think it must be something oil based, or 'kitchen' paint, but it's from the '70s, so I have no idea. However, it is stubbornly resisting attempts to cover it, so at least one more coat is going to be called for.

Thus, progress has been a little slow, but everything is now white(-ish), and we also managed to plant some more bulbs.

Unfortunately, Merry is still declining, and is falling over and sleeping (in quite odd places) rather frequently. She's still eating and purring, though, and seems comfortable enough. [The odd places: she appears to believe that she is a door stop or draught excluder, at present.]

Painting Preparations

This morning we finished getting the kitchen in order, ready to start painting tomorrow, and we've spent this afternoon planting bulbs.

We've extended the daffodil collection up towards the lane, still along the edge of the garden, and into the raised bank. To start with, it was a contiguous drift, but as we went along, we've changed it into clumps and groups. These then continue all the way round that corner of the garden, past the arbour, and along the bank that lies beneath the wall at the edge of the garden (next to the lane). The daffs, as mentioned, are from Fentongollen: 50kg (about a thousand) of mixed bulbs for naturalizing.

Once we were into the bank, between the clumps of daffodils, we've planted the Muscari armeniacum (blue grape hyacinths), the Puschkinia scilloides var. libanotica (Striped Squill), and the Scilla siberica (Siberian squills, rather like bluebells). These will—hopefully—complement the English bluebells in the ground already, although be a little earlier.

We're not done yet; we've probably put about half the bulbs in the ground, but it's a good start.

Gloss and Garage

I've painted half the window frames' inside today, while Liz and parents have sorted the garage. The windows are much improved, and the garage—which has been in a state since the kitchen units were delivered, and the car's been on the drive since. That's now improved, and although there's a pile of cardboard where the car should go, it will fit in once the cardboard's moved to the compost heap (or nearby). Ticking on with the things we needed to get done, at least!

More Shopping

This afternoon turned into a bit of a mammoth shopping trip. We went out to get some of the things needed to finish the kitchen, and succeeded, at least, in that. We now have curtain poles, for example, a shelf, and bits and pieces. Once that was all done, we've only got a little bit of work in the kitchen done, by way of polyfilla, and the like, but that's life.

Back Home

We've been in Cambridge since Thursday, staying with two sets of friends, and catching up with others. It's been really good to see everyone, including both couples who got married in August, and Hazel and Alex. While we were in a city centre with time to spare, we also did rather a lot of shopping. Too much, perhaps? We are now the proud owners of a ceramic hen (called Henrietta...), several metres of different Christmas-patterned fabrics, a small counter-top bin for the kitchen, and fabric for the kitchen curtains.

On the way home, we stopped off at our 'old' garden centre (that is, the one near the old house), and had a mooch, picking up some Christmas bits and a few plants. Good fun to wander round: I think I still prefer it to our local centre, but there you go. Further on, we called in to the manufacturer of our kitchen units, to pick up some final bits, which will hopefully be installed this week.

We got home to discover our Van Meuwan order of perennials had arrived, so they will need planting out this week, or at least potting up. I'm not sure we're going to get everything we want done, but there you go. Hopefully the bigger tasks can be accomplished.

Unfortunately, it looks as though our eldest cat, Meriadoc, has gone a bit downhill while we were away. She's been doddery for a few months, but she's looking rather thin and tired. We'll try to keep her comfortable as long as possible, but I fear she's on an inevitable decline.

Cold Frame

We had a visit over the weekend from university friends, Ann and Alan. It's been a little while since we saw them properly, though we were at their wedding in August. They set off home earlier today, which left us time to get out in the garden for a bit.

We've planted some pansies (Amber Kiss) in the troughs near the porch, and will try to plant more in the hanging baskets over the next week or so. This necessitated removing the Busy Lizzies from the troughs: they were rather past their best, and I've cut them up and suspended them in jars of water, where they'll hopefully send out adventitious roots. They can then be potted up somewhere, and over-wintered. I think I ought to take some more geranium and fuchsia cuttings, too.

Alongside this, we rescued a few dozen bricks from where they've been loitering near the compost bins, and brought them to outside the dining room window. We've used them to build the walls of a cold frame, which we've topped with some secondary glazing panes rendered redundant by the new windows. Into these we've put the perennials that arrived a little while ago and were potted up. I'm hoping they'll get a bit more light, and grow a bit faster!

The kitchen is almost back together, now: we've restocked almost all the cupboards (that is, we've removed most of the kitchen stuff from the dining room, guest room, and study...), and tidied up almost completely. The floor still needs to go down (probably starting in two weeks), and the walls need painting. We've got some holiday coming up, and hope to do the latter then.

That said, we also have a lot of other bits to get done, such as planting the two thousand-odd bulbs we've got waiting, building a new compost bin (and repairing the current one), finishing the vegetable beds, and brewing some wine and cider. Thus, it will probably be a busy, if fun, holiday.