Really I don't dislike to cook, but what you cook is eaten so quickly. When you sew, you have something that will last to show for your efforts. ~Elizabeth Travis Johnson

And sew it came to pass....that at the weekend Alison had time to sew.

Over the last twenty odd years it has been my favourite way to spend a Saturday or Sunday afternoon, listening to Sport on 5 on the radio (although the most common news of another goal being conceded by Sunderland is less welcome) whilst seated at my sewing table. When we lived in West Hoathly I had an old kitchen table that we chopped a bit off of so that it would fit under the eaves at the end of our loft bedroom.

Now I have the big end of the conservatory which runs along the east wing of the building. The width of most of the conservatory is only about four feet for most of it's length so we use the space to hang the sheets, duvet covers and table-cloths before they are ironed. But at the end nearest the main part of the house it is an extra couple of feet wider which is just room enough for my trusty, slightly shortened sewing table and a few stacks of storage drawers which are full of fabric, all colour coordinated or stored according to themes e.g. Christmas, flowers, animals.

It's been a bit chilly to sit and sew there over the last few months and rather than heat the conservatory I have found myself spreading out into our den, which is very cosy when the wind is howling outside.

I have always worked from to-do lists as a way of ensuring that I get everything done or at least it's a way of me knowing what I should be doing. At the moment I have five lists on the go, one for The Old Bakery business, one for my Gladstone coaching business, another for my coaching studies, one for my personal stuff (which doesn't come under any other list) and a quilting list.

This last list is subdivided into two; the quilts I am in the course of making and another list for all the other quilt stuff I need to do. Over the last few weeks this has included getting set up on Pinterest, Twitter and Facebook (find me @norfolkpatch) and things that I need to do to start getting some work as a quilt teacher.

Mike has often suggested that I should make quilts and sell them but the economics of doing so just don't add up. The cost of materials for the front of a quilt, wadding for the inside and the backing material are likely to be £80-£100. Machine quilting (by a professional) would be another £80-£100 and with a quilt top taking anywhere between 20 to 60 hours to make, depending on the complexity even if you added in labour at the minimum wage cost it would make the real cost of making a quilt prohibitive.

If you look on Amazon there are single bed-size quilts for sale at £25, probably made in China from cheap fabric but it makes you think.

So I've decided that if I'm to generate any income from my hobby I should teach others how to quilt instead. A couple of weeks ago I emailed our local bird reserve, The Hawk and Owl Trust at Sculthorpe, suggesting that I could run a workshop for them on an owl theme (owl fabrics are very popular at the moment) and they immediately responded saying that they wold love me to do so.

I'm now hard at work creating owl themed samples to go and show them in about 10 days time, before I run a workshop which is planned for early June. Both Stephen and Mike have drawn me owls for me to convert to patchwork patterns and I'm busy trying to turn fabric into the different native species of owl; Barn Owl, Tawny Owl, Little Owl and either a Short of a Long-eared owl (I'll decide what it most looks like when it is finished!)

In between the owls I've also been making raggy baby quilts and various christmas projects which will be separate workshops that I want to pitch to some other places in the next few weeks.

I had planned on making patchwork quilts for all of the B&B and cottage bedrooms over the winter (sometimes my plans are a touch optimistic!) but I have finished the quilt which is now on the bed in The Miller's Room.

This is the quilt which we photographed in the garden.

Here's the quilt on the bed along with the cushions I made.

All of which, I hope, will suffice to explain to both Stephen and Claire that the quilts I started for each of them before they went to university are still on my list to finish, but what with the samples for workshops and quilts for the B&B rooms, don't hold your breath, I may be some time!

Both Alison and I have taken up smoking.

Having never smoked before we thought we would 'buck the trend' and start in our early 50's. We figure that if you haven't tried something new by our age and you really fancy having a go, well then you should make the effort.  We have long thought about starting but knew so little and we were put off by a lack of understand of the paraphernalia and it was for this reason that we decided we would get some professional help to start and to ensure our health and safety would not be compromised.


It was with this in mind that Alison gave me a Christmas present of a days training in how to smoke safely and she joined me on the course too.

I particularly have longed to start smoking because I love kippers and since we have lived up here in Norfolk I have frequently visited our local smokery and bought smoked garlic, mussels, prawns, bloaters and even the wonderful Red Herring which I may just have fed you with at the beginning of this article.


We thought it would be great to set up our very own smokery in our garden or perhaps in the garden tool store but with no practical knowledge of the subject Alison went on the web and found a fantastic course run by two really nice ladies.  So we packed our overnight bags filled the car with juice and set off to the opposite coast and probably my favourite area (after Norfolk, of course) The Lake District.

We stayed in a brilliant Inn called The Wild Boar inn, just near Lake Windermere which unusually has its own smokehouse. The food was exquisite cooked by chefs that really know their stuff and featured many items smoked to perfection in their own smokehouse. As if that wasn't brilliant enough then the smoking course exceeded all our expectations.

The two tutors had on a whim rejected the rat race in London to pursue a whole different life style (mmmm, sounds familiar that). They were both high up in the Police force and gave it up to buy an old artisan smokehouse with which they built up the trade until they were supplying the likes of Fortnum & Mason, Selfridges, Harvey Nicks and even smoking privately for The Prince of Wales.

They were just fantastic and took us through all the basics of curing, cold smoking, hot smoking, the different types of equipment and the heath and safety aspects too. For a one day course it appeared to cover everything.

Some examples of the homemade equipment that you can smoke in.

We were under the misapprehension that we would need something the size of a garden shed to smoke food but as you can see in the photo above an old barrel BBQ, a clapped out old stove and even a filing cabinet can be used to smoke foods in. Please note the Inn's smokehouse is the building right behind these Heath Robinson affairs and is state of the art but the rough shod, moonshine, on the edge style of smoking is a lot more fun.

By lunch time we had smoked enough food to have a filling lunch. The course then continued and we smoked and learnt a whole lot more. At the end of the course we handed all that we had smoked over to the restaurant's Chef to do with as he so desired and we returned in the evening to a sumptuous meal of totally scrummy food. Smoked Gammon, Sausages, Wild boar, Trout, Beef steak and well the list just went on and on. We sat there as if it were a medieval banquet with one course after another laid before us and EVERY SINGLE ITEM was an explosion of taste. I cannot recommended both the Course and the Inn highly enough to do them justice.

My hands on the left and Alison behind. This was just the 'snack' lunch!

There is a link at the end of this blog.


So we have purchased the two simplest methods of smoking as we are just dipping our toes in the water so as to speak.

Firstly for cold smoking..... a cardboard box! Sounds daft as there is no smoke without fire and with fire there is good reason to think that after a while there would be no box. However this kit has a clever little gadget in it which allows oak sawdust to just smoulder and with a simple placing of metal racks (provided) inside the box you can smoke foods on several shelves at once for many hours.

We have cold smoked cheeses, prawns, mussels, garlic cloves, peppers, mushrooms and even fillets of duck breasts. Do you know that even as I write this my mouth is slightly salivating at the memory of how tasty these were.

We also bought a small hot smoking pan which can be used in the kitchen on your hob (disable your smoke alarm first!) or outside. We have found that our fireplace is so big we can actually use either of the smoking devices there and the flu takes away all the excess smoke. Having seen these lovely scented white whisps of smoke curl up the chimney breast I now know what those Cardinals were really doing in the Sistine Chapel.... genuinely getting one step nearer to heaven!



In our Hot Smoking unit we have smoked Salmon, Trout, Cod and more Salmon fillets.... And even more Salmon fillets as they are mind-blowingly Wowwwwww in their flavour.


So now our guest menus will, on occasions, feature home cured and smoked ingredients, that is of course if we don't eat them ourselves first!!!



Links;-  Smoky Jo's  course website       
http://www.smokeyjos.co.uk/

The Wild Boar Inn;- 
http://englishlakes.co.uk/hotels/lake-district-hotels/windermere-hotels/wild-boar-inn/

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Car rot in a lay-by

 Only in Norfolk have I ever seen a pile of carrots just siting in a lay-by. It is not as if this is a one off event as a pile of carrots appears in the self same spot every year and the reason is a complete enigma to me.

Over the next few months it will slowly diminish, carrot by carrot and yet I never witness anyone or indeed any creature removing them. Are they there for the poor local peasants as a generous gift from the farmer. If so and whilst it would seemingly be a kind thought I would hope that there would be another farmer down the lane leaving a pile of cabbages and another a mountain of potatoes. Otherwise all our peasants (of which I haven't seen one in all the time I've lived here) could suffer from Carotenodermia giving them the appearance of an immigrant from Essex.

Another hypothesis is that the farmer is leaving horse food out just like I do for the birds in my garden in the hope that he will glimpse a roaming Suffolk Punch or a cute Falabella and perhaps if he just got lucky a roaming Shetland Pony. As this would involve the farmer sitting in his 'Horse hide' and likely to be able to see me this is one peasant that will not be helping himself to any of the carrots.

A final thought is that the farmer isn't all 'there' and has completely misunderstood the meaning of set-a-side!




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"Daaaad. Do you know the Pianos on my foot?" "You hum it son and I'll play it!"

We find ourselves making silly mistakes, an inevitable consequence when tackling a refurbishment on such an old building with such a large range of 'works' being carried out on it. 

So far we have two biggies as far as mistakes go, firstly in our cottage the master bedroom required that half the floor be removed as it was split level and needed to be even throughout to accommodate a Superking-size bed. Consequently this portion of the floor was completely removed and a new one built 12 inches lower.
It was only once the floor had been rebuilt that we realised that we would not be able to get the enormous bed up the tiny flight of stairs and that we had missed the ideal chance to have got the bed up through the hole in the floor when we had the chance.
The solution was to order the bed in bespoke quarters which we could take up the narrow staircase and assemble in situ. which we successfully achieved.  Nonetheless very frustrating.


The second BIG mistake was perpetrated by myself. I had been mightily impressed by the Power Shower that we had bought and installed in the first B&B room and so jumping ahead of the game I bought a second for the Cottage shower room. It is a high power, high performance, reliable shower that just about every plumber I spoke to recommended. But it had a price to match,  with the 'book' price being £600 I searched the internet and eventually obtained it, brand new, at just £340 which was even cheaper than the plumber could do. Knowing I could get it so cheap and seeing that the same site was still selling it at that I decided to jump the gun and snap the 2nd one up.

Oooops!  It was only when they came to fit it that I became aware it was inappropriate for the new cottage shower room as the hot water system that I had agreed to was pressurised and the £340 of power shower was redundant. I tried selling it to the electrician, both lots of plumbers and even more recently to the builder, all of whom are interested in it but will wait until they have a customer whom needs one. So I'm stuck with that then and at some stage I shall probably flog it on Ebay.



Then there was our last mistake.....

We had completed all the works to the landings and as such had built several new walls from which a door leads to one of our smaller bedrooms. The mistake here was that we didn't learn from our first mistake (above) and having finished all the walls we then blindly ordered the new bed. Now this was just a single bed but the new walls and door angles looked like the ordered bed was going to be a struggle to get into the room......  AND IT WAS!

When it arrived I took it up the stairs and attempted to get it to the doorway of the respective bedroom which first involved it twisting (which 6' x 3' divan beds don't do) through another doorway first.

Well, I heaved and I hoed. I umphed and I poomfed. I even tried a liberal dollop of cursing but to no avail. This all went on at the top of the stairs and I was all the time put in mind of the famous Laurel and Hardy film "The Music Box" in which they attempt to move a piano up a long staircase and every time they nearly get there something happens to cause the piano to come crashing down the stairs.
Finally I had to give up and admit that it was just never going to fit. I thought about cutting it in half or dismantling it but the material had been stretched across the whole thing, that was not an option.

My rule is never say die, there always has to be a way...... Now What would Jesus do?  Probably buy a futon!  I had already considered my plan B but wasn't very keen on it as it was going to be a tad awkward and I would definitely need a hand. BUT as luck would have it some dear friends were coming to stay and I felt sure that they would assist, especially as this was the bed that their son was due to sleep in. If he was to sleep in a bed when they arrived then they would have to help me get the bed up over the porch's tiled roof and in through a first floor window......... Easy peasy.


And so my Plan B was implemented on their arrival. The bed was hoisted up my very dodgy ladder precariously positioned on a wobbly, cobbled yard until it reached a window that in years gone by was originally a door for hoisting sacks of grain up into the old shops attic. Once we had got it through this window then all we had to do was slide it down the long corridor and straight into the bedroom.  Walla!


The following demonstrates both mind over matter and divan over roof tiles.......

First we positioned a sheet of hardboard to act as both protector of the porch roof tiles and as a guide to allow the bed to slide over the window sill.

Then with Matthew (our friends son and hopeful 'bedeee') holding the sheet of hardboard in place we were ready for the big lift.

Here we are just contemplating the finer details of the big lift. Graham (on the left) and I (on the right) both secretly musing on which way we would jump if it all went wrong,  our exit strategy if you will.
Every man for himself!   Well that was what I was thinking anyway.

I look at this picture with some incredulity as some 30 years ago Graham was Best man at my wedding and at that time people used to think we were brothers because we looked so similar. Well here we are 3 decades later and I appear to have grown a foot taller and 3 foot wider whereas he still looks much the same.....    Even his hair is still the same colour.

Obviously I put his ageless state down to witch craft and my aged state down to my genes.


Anyhow................

Ready and poised, Shirley (Matthews Mother) has taken over hard board duties, the bed is in place and we're ready to go.

Too me, no, no.... to you son. Up a bit... give it a wiggle.... YOU GIVE IT A WIGGLE!

Did anyone measure the window size?

"Yes of course I did.".......        "Nice arse".......      "Who said that!"

Shirley - "Do you think he makes all his B&B guests do this?"

The task was finally completed, Matthew had his bed, his parents had earnt their supper, mission impossible had been achieved and I was left hanging on the window sill by my fingernails   C'est la vie!








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Just how is the master list of lists progressing?

Back in the depths of winter Mike wrote about the huge amount of work we needed to do before the start of the new season of guests. So how have we got on I hear you ask?

We seem to have been busy and finding plenty to fill our days without the distraction of paying guests. Below is our progress against the items on the Master List of Lists

DAYS  THE MASTER LIST OF LISTS

3        Catch up with all Laundry & re-organise linen room DONE
8        Allotment We've spent a big chunk of time down on the allotment (mostly Mike I confess) but still lots more to do of course
2        Cottage spring clean DONE
1        Cottage Preparation  DONE
1        Cottage Maintenance and repairs (internal and external) DONE
2        Garage clear-out and tidy DONE
3        Garden (back, front, side and patio) DONE, although now spring has sprung this is now ongoing
7        Weeks holiday HOW DID WE MISS THIS ONE? although we've had a couple of weekends away so maybe that counts?
8        Snagging of recent renovations and paint windows in new guest room NOT QUITE as the broken glass panes and old window furniture are being replaced tomorrow by a man who can - proved to tough a job for us and then we'll get painting
7        Re-decorate our bedroom NOT DONE but has to be a priority next week once our guests due this week have departed
1        Main house - maintenance and repairs, internal and external(including 1st B&B room) DONE
5        Spring clean of main house (including kitchen and ovens) and ALL windows ALMOST DONE - just the ovens to clean!
2        Replace living room flooring DONE
1        Update Website and other sites (AA  e.t.c.) with info on new B&B room DONE
-----
51  =  Total Days to be ready for guests

Then there's the other stuff that can be done within the season....

• Boarding into the Attic DONE

•  Clearance of two rooms used to store stuff  (better known as our 'Museum of my children's unwanted stuff but that doesn't mean you can throw it away Dad!') ONE ROOM IS DONE  saving the other for a rainy day

• Construction of a substantial wood store. (That's not wood which is considered substantial but a substantial store in which I will be able to place my wood). NOT DONE, now a job for early Autumn

• Re-decorate the bedroom which was made smaller when we moved a wall to allow for our new shower. DONE

• Cut up as much wood as possible from the wood salvaged when I knocked two rooms into one. NOT DONE also now for early Autumn

• And throughout... Allotment, Allotment, Allotment, Allotment, Allotment, Allotment and then more Allotment. ON-GOING

Mike said in his blog in January that "this, then, will mean that at best the must do's won't be completed until about the 2nd week of March."

I think that if this was a school report we'd get 9/10 and a silver star for lots of effort! And we did get some other stuff done, marmalade making (note - it is not worth the effort....two hours a time chopping peel isn't cost or time effective), learning how to smoke (more on that in another blog) and I've done lots of sewing and finished a quilt.

 On Thursday the first of our B&B guests will arrive (a couple who've been twice before and this time are bringing their friends). In a couple of weeks the first of the holiday cottage families will arrive and then we'll really be back in the swing of things. Hopefully that will mean we can put the paint brushes away until the Autumn too.

When even the cat rejects you.........

The seasonal clock ticked on relentlessly and with the weather improving day by day I was only too aware that I could no longer put off tackling the allotment. Fortunately I had some friends coming up from Sussex to stay for a few days and never had the words 'Press Gang' resonated so loudly within my heart.

The sad part is that actually, I knew, far from press ganging them into helping down the allotment they were biting at the bit to get their hands dirty. The truth is that far from having to encourage them to get stuck in I found myself thinking of things we could go out and do so I didn't have to work on the bally allotment all weekend!

"Oooh look, there's a wonderful show of Snowdrops at Brinton and it is only open today. I know, I know it means we'll have less time on the allotment but SNOWDROPS! And it's kinda sunny too. Honestly it'll be great." So off we went to the snowdrop woodland walk and another few hours of digging was avoided.

Eventually I run out of distractions (it is Norfolk in the winter) and I found myself with Alison and our friends Graham & Shirley 'down the allotment'. I didn't feel too bad about them digging for Britain as they were quite rightly suffering from slight pangs of guilt themselves for it was they, along with several other friends, that persuaded me to obtain the said allotment. Matthew, their son, whom seems the most intelligent of the trio had elected to stay back at our house to keep the cat company which was a shame as I had planned to use him to go down the mole tunnels and catch a few of the little critters!

In the end we had a good days work with a rhubarb bed enlarged to take the many rhubarb plants dotted all over the plot, Gooseberries repositioned to allow them to grow to their full potential and much the same done to the raspberry canes. The ground was now prepared for digging over.

As I pushed the pitch fork into the ground it kept making a cracking sound, now I had bought these tools at a silly cheap price from the local auction and fully expected them to break sooner than later so was none too surprised at the sound. However on inspection I could not ascertain from where the sound was originating. I checked the wooden handle at the top and I checked the shaft where it joined the metal prongs, nothing.

Once again I stuck the prongs into the ground, stepped on the fork and once again as I pushed the fork down into the ground I heard the faint sound of a crack. Concerned that the thing would snap as I was in the process of thrusting downward causing me to collapse in a pile on the ground I decided to inspect the metal prongs themselves.... Nothing.

Gingerly I continued to use it again and again a slight crack emanated from below me. I carried on regardless and after a while I had need to use the spade instead. I planted it on the ground and just as I pushed it into the ground 'CRACK'!  Funny, I thought to myself, that 'crack' sounds just like the 'crack' that the pitch fork gives off.

I mused on the point, privately, for a few moments.  I hesitatingly picked up another pitch fork and  placed it's forks on to the mud. I placed my foot squarely on the top of the metal and pushed down....   'Crack'!
Then I did the same again but instead of using my right foot I tried my left foot..... Not   a   sound.

It would appear that it was not the knackered old pitchfork after all but the knackered old man's knee pushing the bloody thing!!  I chose not to disclose this finding to my buddies as I really didn't want to encourage the open season on ribbing at my expense.


Last Thursday was a beautiful day and so I hired a rotavator to dig the plot over. With 6,000sqft of mud to dig and a knee that sounds like a ratchet every time it moves I thought the £24 hire charge was a bargain. I spent all afternoon rotavating over the plot and at the end it looked the business.

Earlier in the day I had met up with 'Chip' the farmer at the far end of the village who provided me with about a tonne of rotted manure. There is a photograph of Chip's grandfather on my dinning room wall along with one possibly of his great grandfather too (the photo at the top left of this blog page). This is because his family used to run the Bakery in years gone by. It is a small village.


The next day I broke my back muck spreading all morning. The rotavator had to be back by lunchtime and so I worked like a trojan to get as much muck spread as I could so that I could then use the rotavator to dig it into the ground.

Finally the job was done, the rotavator was returned to the hire shop and I went home to crash out in my armchair. It has to be said that if you want to find out whom your true friends are try muck spreading well rotted manure by hand for 3 hours then return home to your loved ones.
Even the cat wouldn't sit on my lap.


I decided to go and have a wash, I struggled to clamber out of the armchair and just as I was straightening my legs to walk off my body complained with one more pathetic little 'crack' from my knee.
It's going to be a long, long summer..........






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