Abundance as opposed to a bun dance

Followers of the "old way" will already be aware that today is

Lammas and that corn dollie season has begun in ernest.

Traditional corn dollie

It's the day on which to celebrate the first fruits of the harvest

by baking loaves made with the freshly milled flour from

this year's crop.  If you're gluten free like me you'll just have to

improvise.

Makes your back ache just looking at it.

The wheel of life turns on, the sun has ripened the grain,

seeds must be set aside for next year's planting and then it's

all down hill again until Yule (147 shopping days to go)>

Meadowsweet, I can smell it from here.

Today's colours are golds and oranges, as well as red to

celebrate the Goddess as mother.  Hazel, gorse and sage are

hot to trot and don't forget the meadowsweet, the bride of the meadow,

whatever you do with it's heavy, almost sickly-sweet

migraine inducing perfume.

There were some more interesting pictures but they
really were very rude indeed!

Lammas also embraces the festival of Lugh the Celtic Sun King and

Lord of Light.  So set fire to something, dance around in

the rudie nudie (any excuse eh Deb), go pick your beans because

with the cutting of the first corn the old god, the green man,

the essence of life, John Barleycorn - call him what you will -

surrenders his life to the scythe.  It's a story as old a time

itself, of death and rebirth so that the cycle can begin again anew with the

coming of the spring.

He's definately not a "leg" man.

Now out with your besoms (no Alice dear, those are your bosoms)

and sweep after me:

By one, two, three and four

Sweep Lammas gifts to my door.

May abundance be a constant friend

By my hearth till winter's end.

Alone no more ......

No, I haven't found myself a man nor a dog so

please don't get over excited and start frothing at

the mouth.

Come round the other side, you can see them better
from there.

What I have got is FISH!

Three jolly, fat fish to be precise who are now currently

enjoying the pool facilities here at the lock-up.

They are very ordinary common or garden creatures

not blessed with exotic tails or fabulous coloured

scales but they will do me very nicely nonetheless.

One is white and the other two are orange and

all three are currently lacking names so please,

put on your naming caps and see what you can

come up with.

There they are, under the pond soldier.

I'm off to the shops now to buy some fish food,

a heron gun and a couple of no-fishing signs

for good measure.  Nobody messes with my 

lurcher fish!

Ranworth St Helen

Norfolk, the county where I now live, has the greatest

concentration of mediaeval churches anywhere in

the world - 650 of the original 900 remain and are the

spiritual and visual focus of the landscape.

At first glance the rood screen doesn't seem very exciting
but come a little closer and you'll see what I mean.

These churches contain many priceless mediaeval works

of art and craftmanship which are part of our heritage

and are visited by thousands of people every year

from all corners of the globe and beyond?

Some of the good ladies of the Parish have been
making kneelers again I see.  Shame they all had to
share the same pattern.

Today I was one of them when I went to see Ranworth's

celebrated rood screen which is only a ten minute

drive from the Lock-Up.

See all the wonderful detail on this guy's frock when you get up close.

The structure and design of the screen are elaborate

and it's decoration is arguably the finest 15th century example

you're likely to find for many a long mile.

I had to take this twice, St Barbara just wouldn't keep
her feather still.

There's saints galore who will protect you from apocalyptic catastrophe,

childbirth and possibly even musical instruments if I read the symbolism

correctly; a breast-feeding Virgin Mary, 

dragons with one or several heads, Archbishops and

enough angels to fill all the pews should the

congregation suddenly dwindle as in times of pestilence

and plague.  

That's one cool dragon.

And today there was even a serial sinner (me) to be found on her hands

and knees in front of the magnificent screen much to the alarm

of a couple of tourists from Germany who happened to rock up

about five minutes after me.  Too late to seek forgiveness for

all my many sins but not too late to take some close up photo's

of all the elaborate decoration on the panels to give inspiration

for future designs.

Must be St Peter - he was a fisherman.

All in all a good afternoon out if you're into that sort of thing

and so wonderfully calm and cool on a hot summer's afternoon

in good old Norfolk.

Travelog

I think a travel feature might be in order as last week I popped

down to Kent, Rochester to be precise, with my cousin (twice removed

and usually from bars at closing time) Jan.  

What it says on the sign.

Briefly, what Jan

doesn't know about the latest high-tech sewing machines isn't worth

knowing and as she happened to be on a teaching trip I just

tagged along for the ride.

Inside the cathedral which is singularly unattractive.

We spent what can best be described as an "interesting" night at

Queensborough on the Isle of Sheppey before continuing on to

Rochester, one of the Medway towns, the following day.

High Street, Rochester - not exactly bustling!

If I'm perfectly honest I don't really know what to think about

Rochester.  It boasts the second oldest cathedral in Britain,

has some great architecture and a long naval history but sadly

it failed to grab me by the throat and show me a good time.

Unlike the Rastafarian I met on a park bench whilst eating my

lunch who wanted nothing more than to share his spliff

and converse for a while.

They had two samplers in their museum.
I wonder if anyone ever told Sarah she had her
"S" the wrong way round?

Rochester does however have not one but  two delightful sewing outlets which

is becoming increasingly rare in this age of the internet when

everything is available online and little haberdashers are going

to the wall in their droves.  Makes them sound a bit like lemmings

although they don't actually jump but simply shut their doors

for one last time.

All very quaint but where are the punters?

CCB Sewing is a real Alladin's cave full of fabrics, threads and

wool although sadly no cross stitch which seems to be falling

out of favour in the UK.  Shame on you all, start

stitching immediately.  It's one of those joyful family-run

shops and they certainly go the extra mile for their clients

offering free tuition, monthly clubs and guest speakers.

www.ccbsewing.co.uk

A good place for quilters.

Hometown is the domain of Marion Haslam and stocks everything

a quilter's heart could desire just there at your fingertips

as well as gifts, buttons, bows, baubles, bangles and beads.

You get the idea, I left her with the idea of cross stitch!

Well fair exchange is no robbery pet as Granny H. would say.

That woman certainly knew how to irritate.

(Granny H. not Marion Haslam I hasten to add).

Sorry no apparent website just an email address:

hometownquilts@hotmail.co.uk

Sadly it wouldn't go in the car.

I'm still undecided what to make of Rochester so

you'll just have to go see for yourselves but watch out

for Rasta's if you decide to dine al fresco!

The crossing of paths

From time to time along life's way our paths will cross for

one brief, beautiful moment with a truly inspirational person.

Megan Kerr

It happened to me earlier this week in the back room of a

sewing machine shop down in Kent when I met 18 year old

Megan Kerr putting the final touches to her bright red prom dress.

I spent a couple of hours in her company and as she struggled

to turn the belt for her dress inside out before attaching a

diamante trim she told me something of her life.

Believe me it was a very humbling experience indeed.

Please spare a couple of minutes to follow the link below

as Megan tells her tale far more eloquently than I could ever

hope to do:

http://www.gofundme.com/meganksadventures

Your old green wellies .....

Down amongst the cabbages

Through the sunflowers tall

Can you see those courgettes

Growing by the wall?

Runner beans, French beans

Bright red flowers a-quiver.

Already there's some tasty pods.

Let's have them for our dinner.

Just beside the old blue shed

Things are growing fast.

Lettuces are looking good,

Currants ripe at last.

Red ones, white ones,

Some are fat and black.

Pick them in the evening cool.

No sun to burn your back.

Lurking in the greenhouse

It's windows open wide

Are proud tomatoes all trussed up,

A row on either side.

Cherry ones, merry ones,

Full of pips and pulp.

Stick a ripe one in your mouth,

Eat it in one gulp.

Come and join our merry band,

Bring your fork and spade.

Time to put some leeks in

The job can't be delayed.

Come and taste the great outdoors

Get back to your roots.

But first make sure

That you can find

Your old green wellie boots!

All coming along nicely ......

Fuschias are lovelly

The roses ain't bad.

They're big, and they're blousie and smell.

Nasturtiums are naughty,

Hydrangeas are haughty

I like a good mix - can't you tell?

Clematis

Geraniums glow,

Sweet peas a bit slow,

They don't want to climb up their strings.

Have a look at my lupins,

I think one is drooping.

What's that dude called that looks like a bell?

Smelly, wet rose

My scabious scowl,

Quick pass me a trowel

I can see a big weed that I've missed.

Clematis climb quickly,

My hops feel quite prickly

And the peonies all look quite pissed.

Pissed peonie

I love my wee garden

So begging your pardon

I could write verses all of the time.

There's so many wild flowers

That grow in my bower

But sadly not all of them rhyme!

The Cycle of Long Dog

I've got a new Long Dog,

I'll start with the border.

My threads are all ready,

My pages in order.

Go find the scissors,

Turn on the lamp.

Material's ready,

Just tighten the clamp.

I love all the colours,

So bright and so bold.

My needle is threaded

With "Mexican Gold".

Time to get started,

No further delay.

I've done a few stitches

So we're on our way.

How long will it take me

To get to the end?

Sometimes too much stitching

Sends me round the bend.

But then, does it matter?

These motifs are fun

And it will get finished

In the long run.

I've finally got there,

A big sigh of "phew".

The project is over,

Now what shall I do?

Go to my laptop

Tap in the site

Order a download

And get it tonight.

(Back to the top)

I've got a new Long Dog, etc

Cordon Noir cookery tips

Two tips from the infamous Long Dog cordon noir kitchen 

for you today.

Tip Number One

My they were tart!  This photo doesn't feature all the
others I decided to add for good measure,

When faced with the question "What to do with a glut of

gooseberries?" do not be tempted to add them to your

dish of oven baked salmon along with the capers

and black olives.  

Gooseberry Surprise instantly becomes Gooseberry Fool.

It tastes not only disgusting but is also so sour that it

"draws your arse to your elbow" as my grandfather would

have so charmingly put it, in about two seconds flat.

It somehow sounded more polite in Dutch.

Tip Number Two

A Rhode Island Red I presume.

Don't waste your time playing about with mutant

strawberries when there's far more important things you

should be doing - grow up Julia.

But at least I now know which came first.

It was the eggs.  They just sat quietly on the worktop

in silent admiration as they watched me handcraft

my little strawberry chicken.  Bless.

Picnicing - the new extreme sport!

Are you sitting comfortably - then we'll begin ....

Yesterday evening I went on a one-woman picnic.

But this was to be no ordinary outing as the spot I was heading

for was the middle of a field in South Walsham where a

travelling theatre company, The Pantaloons, were due to

give a performance of Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice.

This was a first for me but I was determined not to let the fact

that I had no one to go with keep me indoors too timid to

venture forth and thus missing out on something I really

wanted to do.

Mr Darcy/Mr Bennet/Mr Wickham/Mary

There were about three hundred other like minded souls in total

who rocked up some with hampers and tartan rugs whilst

others carried along huge chairs, cool boxes and almost the

entire contents of their local supermarket's sparkling wine aisle.

Elizabeth Bennet

I must admit to feeling rather like the body odour offender in a

deodorant commercial as I sat and ate my supper in rather splendid

isolation whilst playing with my iphone in an attempt to appear

sophisticated and cool.  But once the performance began none of that

mattered as it was lively, funny, well acted and refreshingly

different in it's approach.  It also involved a good deal of audience

participation which thankfully I wasn't singled out for despite the

fact that I felt like a lone sitting duck that was wearing a

flashing, invisible "pick me for humiliation" hat.

Mrs Bennet/MissBingley/Lydia/Anne De Bourgh

When I left the lock-up temperatures were still in the

mid to high twenties so cut offs and a t-shirt seemed adequate

attire.  Thank goodness I'm an experienced outdoor reveller

(Glastonbury, Richmond and Cambridge Festivals in my youth),

because very soon it was cardigan time, followed by fleece jacket

with hood and eventually polar throw and shared bodily warmth

(never fluids, not even medicinal brandy, on a first picnic)

if there was someone nearby who felt like sharing.

Mr Bingley/Mr Collins/Mr Gardiner/Kitty

Only in England could temperatures plummet in such a short space

of time and only us Brits would continue sitting with teeth chattering

in the middle of a wet sea fog which had rolled in from the coast,

at times obscuring the stage, and acting as if nothing untoward had happened.

Jane/Miss Lucas/Mrs Gardiner/Lady Catherine

I finally crept to the lock up a little before midnight, soaked to

the skin, frozen stiff and already looking forward to The Pantaloons

next performance scheduled for the autumn.  All I need to do in

the interim is go on line and order some arctic survival gear and

a male escort to carry it.

Mr Darcy having a swig as the fog starts to creep in.

PS  Mr Darcy was as you might expect.  Try and catch a performance

if you don't mind experiencing hypothermia first hand -

www.thepantaloons.co.uk