berries and brownies

She went to our fab local Halloween Party as a black cat with butterfly wings (she said she was butterfly-cat).



Isaac was kung-fu skeleton



- doing their scary-mean faces

Felix - Spider Monkey - I know, or rather I didn't but FYI it's a Ben 10 alien. You knew that I am sure.

I made these. I saw them on FB, they are supposed to be mouths, see with the teeth as marshmallows? Mine don't look as good as the ones I saw. They sort of bulge teeth. And I forgot that Felix dislikes peanut butter, whoops. I ate one. It was sick. And yummy. So I ate another. I made myself forget I don't eat sugar. It's a slippery slope.



We went for a walk this morning, the morning after the sugar fest, Esmé was still jittery and tried to have a million meltdowns so I found I needed to direct her attention to things other than herself.



I decided to look for berries, just to see how many I could see and of what variety. Not that we knew. Really what they were (my plant identifying skills, despite best efforts are very feeble). Felix and Esmé catch my enthusiasm for things when I really am enthusiastic, I can be very good at acting and then truly fall into the role. This probably means I am childish rather than have a child's sense of wonder. Or maybe just a short attention span. So we saw rather a lot. Our favourites were the odd looking orange ones. And the pink ones near the horses. Mainly because they were near the horses.







Felix likes to dance as he walks along. I know. He's funny.





This cow, really likes us (or maybe it thinks we bring food gifts).



I always stop off in my vegetable garden and pick something for lunch, or try too, after our walk. I still have a forest, a forest I swear, of kale.



I love kale, which is just as well, considering. I love that you plant it and then it just grows and grows no matter how much you lop off, I love that it keeps going right into winter. I love it's supreme hardiness. I admire kale I tell ya. So I try and find ways to eat it that sort of sings a song of tribute. Not just cooked like cabbage mush. Kale crisps are super. I posted their making here before but can't remember when or where. Just chop (removing thickest stems) and massage lemon juice and olive oil into it all. Sprinkle with salt and pepper and mix well. Spread on baking sheet and place in super low heat (I use bottom aga with the door ajar) and leave until crispy. For me it's overnight but for conventional ovens I don't know, just test it out. Just like Kettle chips, but nicer.



The carrots and beetroot and the trays of oriental salad greens are still going strong over there in the garden too. The girl and I sowed a quick extra tray of perpetual spinach and I am keeping my fingers crossed it grows, we seem to have entered the Time of Damp here which may last for the next 6 months (this is Welsh weather, esp. if you happen to live spitting distance form a stream at the foot of a hill that oozes damp).





I have seen my veggie beds grow algae or some sort of fluorescent slime one year when the rain didn't let up for months on end. It was interesting and all, but undoubtedly not edible (unless it was some super chlorella type of thing and ignoramus self didn't know). Still on the bright side I am thinking once dug over in the dry sun of spring it probably improved something about the soil. I hope.



Felix is a wizard with the Plasticine he bought this morning. He is so good at fiddly tiny things.





Also, can you see his money jar in the background? He's saving up for a pair of those Oxfam Gift goats to send to Africa. It's his Christmas aim to raise the money in time :)

Esmé painted around the leaves we glued to paper and was kept busy for a while.



... a very short while



We stocked up too today for the first time since last winter on bird seed, peanuts, fat balls and those suet meal-worm pellet things that get devoured as soon as you put them out. Thus far the dog and cockerel seem to like them too. I feel a hefty shouting at dog and cockerel will be in order if I don't want to spend a fortune on bird food. The Man and I disagree over bird food. I get excited seeing the birds from the windows (not that he doesn't just, yk, he's at work and not exactly here to see them much in daylight over the winter). We get sooooo many different varieties in our garden, from kingfishers and herons and woodpeckers and buzzards to the more common wrens, nuthatch and robin and the swarms of blue tit that engulf the bird table in mid winter. Once you start feeding them, I feel you kind of have to continue, just because they rely on you, and then they build their nests nearby and feed their babies and suddenly you have whole populations surviving partly on what you provide. My dh thinks we need to be more frugal (tis' always true) and pare back. Like only fill the bird table and feeders once a year or something rather than every week as I am apt to do in winter.

Luckily I go back to work soon on Saturdays (yay, my hand is getting better) and so the financial burden can be mine :) And one I shall happily pay for.

In love with some new blogs which I have added to my linky list: bateaux de papier, elegant photos, lulastic and the hippyshake (check out those frugal turning old clothes into new ones) and also angel wings and herb tea for simple outdoor family living, cool.

Isn't this bunny lamp cute? I saw it over here on this French blog (also very cute, and probably I should add, chic). I seriously want one. Is it wrong to want a bunny lamp? I fear it may be so. Still, I could always pass it off as a want of The Beauty's for some random Christmas gift giver. Which is also probably seriously a BAD MOTHER thing to do. Still. We can share it :) Since we share a bed and a room it won't be such a challenge.



I am always tweaking my recipes, especially sweet things, since I am such a sweet freak. Today was no different. My raw brownie recipe that I originally posted here, gets updated and revived constantly. It currently looks like this and is my favourite so far:

Raw Chocolate Brownie

cup of walnuts
cup of Brazil nuts
1/2 cup of buckwheaties*
3/4 cup of dates (or dried apricots)
large tablespoon of virgin/organic coconut oil
2-3 heaped tbsp of cocoa powder
pinch of pink/sea salt

Everything here gets blitzed in the magimix/food processor and until crumb consistency and then turned into a tin, flattened out with the back of a spoon and then refrigerated. I often add 1/2 a cup of dried coconut in place of some of the nuts, or as well as, or ground almonds. Dried apricots give a less sweet taste, I am happy to alternate the dates with apricots too. Jut depends what I have on hand. You could also sub shelled hemp seeds for some of the others if you feel like throwing a shed load of money away. Whoops, I mean , making it even super-healthier. It so so filling and perfect, chocolaty and sweet, I never tire of it! Because I am like that when I have found something I love. If I have a piece it honestly keeps me feeling full for hours. That's what nuts do for me (well that and make me gain weight, but I try not to think of that). I am riding the wave of using whole food sweeteners like dried fruit in place of the liquid sweeteners available, just feels more rounded and also the consistency and texture is better with a brownie. chewy, crunchy and chocolaty. And the brazils add that extra bit of oil-mouth taste. Go on. Make some.



* 'buckwheaties' are soaked, sprouted and dried whole buckwheat kernels. They give a lovely crunch, like breakfast cereals.

sunday lunch

The sad fact is I don't make traditional Sunday roast dinners. I suppose that's not exactly sad in and of it's self, you know, I mean who cares? BUT it's the reason I don't cook or eat them which is sort of sad.

The scent of a Sunday roast makes me anxious. Anxious because, as a child, the wafts of steamed veggies in the pressure cooker, meat roasting and yorkshire puds billowing their flouriness meant Sunday, and what followed Sunday? Well Monday of course. And Monday meant school. So the smell of a Sunday roast, for me is synonymous with being slightly worried about having to go to school the next day.

This was not, by the way anything to do with my reasons for home educating. Just one of those, you know, side things about me. I said to The Man when we moved in together and had babies, look just don't ever expect a Sunday roast. On Sunday. Maybe I'll surprise you with one on say a Tuesday, but that's unlikely too. I am more of a kale, lentils and bacon girl. Anyway. We were doing some clearing at the veg garden this morning, and what with the extra hour granted to us today with the clock wizardry I had more time to speculate over what I fancied for lunch. From my garden (minus the red lentils) I give you today's Sunday lunch.

It was surprisingly delicious and that's why I have to share it here. The first of many. I hope. Since my new master plan (as of about four seconds ago) is to blog each Sunday about my alternative Sunday Lunch. It might get dull, and be leftovers, but I guess you don't have to know that - just kidding, I'll say so. I shall see how far it takes me and how far I can go with it. That is I am hoping it gives me more of an ommph to use what I have in my cupboards, veg basket and garden creatively.

I might do a sidebar link for anyone who wants to join me (please do!) for inspiration and variants and new takes on the British Sunday Roast. Or jut total abandonment of in favour of something else.

One Sunday

one chopped red onion
one bunch of beetroot leaves and stems, chopped
one bunch of kale, chopped with the thick stems removed if you fancy
red lentils, a good handful

~ add all of the above except the lentils to a big pan with some oil. Add a sprinkle of tamari and a sprinkle of worcester sauce. After a few minutes add the lentils and big dash of water, enough so that the lentils can cook, but not so much that it's swimming. Add about 3 cloves of minced garlic and stir everything. Put a lid on and over the course of the next ten minutes keep checking stirring and adding tiny bits of water if it needs it.

Scoop onto your plate, adjust seasoning and add a dab of cheese (I know, I know this warrants a whole other post, but this week is the first in two yrs where I have been adding some raw cheese back in to my diet, just to see). Roquefort seem fabulous, it is soft and salty and melts a tiny bit. I made this just for me, so increase quantities of you have kids who actually really yum up greens and garden produce other than just fruit.

protect me from what I want

it might be colour, the technicolour of autumn-ness, it is often chocolate, spending money online, even the nicest most natural and eco friendliness costs more than is available to spend, wanting tidiness or maybe cleanliness at ridiculous costs, even that of sanity, more time to read in bed, although perhaps i lie down enough as it is, a 12 hour a day sleep habit is a big luxury, more of everything and bizarrely less of everything, almost simultaneously, thinness, constant healthiness, wool, stashed, and babies of course (several), small holdings and gypsy caravans and homes with shiny wood floors, a veg garden as far as the eye can see, animals (ones that clean as they go - since it's all a dream), and mostly, here there and everywhere beauty visable in everything....



protect me from these ridiculous thoughts as they flit and go. beauty is something no one needs protecting from. a saviour. is free and can be just about every place you care to look. expansion and giving and receiving all in one. go outside, it's all there, always.

three little coffee beans, and so much more

Three Little Coffee Bean sweaters, in three different sizes, colour and stripe were knitted in the brief time of my too-short last pregnancy. But not *just* three Little Coffee Beans (which were btw fabulous to knit, my very favourite sweater ever now, hands down beats the Classic Cardigan by Debbie Bliss. Sorry Debbie).



I seemed to have knitted all out of proportion to the length of that pregnancy, and it might have had something to do with the notion I had in mind of knitting an entire wardrobe from 0 to 12 months. Uh-huh. I look at this big pile of woolly garments and am astonished I did so much. In so little time. It's nice. I don't feel weird about it all, although I can see how one could very easily tilt that way. The way I see it, I relished the beautiful yarns sliding through my fngers. I loved every inch of their making. But you know what? I feel like shrugging. Sure there is no baby to wear them now. And it makes me sad that it is so. But one day there might be. And if not mine then I am certainly stocked with baby gifts for quite a while.



I am sad, but not excessively so. Because for whatever reasons my body did it's thing. In it's wisdom it was wise. If I listen I can see life does what it does, reasons are not to be queried endlessly. Because you could grieve forever that way. And still be right in the same place when you had finished doing so.

And so I will make soup today, and concentrate on today only. I might see if The Girl fancies making gingerbread. We will walk the dog (in the rain). I will try and finish the girl's mittens. I will think of today, and maybe tomorrow and not ask to much of the reasons for things being so. It's about as happy as a person can be. In fact it's how I get to be my happiest.





What a pile though! I might be in with some record breaking in the striped department. Um, I guess I really love stripes! And multi colour yarn. And knitting for babies. That I do. I really do.



Love to the mama's today and the babies, and the ones who didn't make it. Now and then. And to the gap in between which we all sometimes find ourselves living in.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
edited to add

This is great miscarriage support website. I found lots comfort there. I love it's simple and direct approach. Also Sherene at the nurtured life has some great resources and support links to check out.

I also feel broody. But that's a given, no? I have come to think of it as simply part of the female condition. Of being female, and young and fertile. Of course broodiness comes along with that. Especially now My Girl has weaned. She has done so much earlier than her brothers (they were, um about 5). I realised recently that she just doesn't ask any more and bedtimes she falls asleep after I have read to her and she puts her face into the space between my shoulder and chin. No milk. So I think this lack of nursing, this space I find myself in, physically, contributes to that ache of want.

I am finding that I have these weird moments, these short seconds of something a bit like panic - this feeling of - counting heads and finding myself short. It's sort of as close to that as I can describe. Like there's a certain thing missing I can't quite place. And I have to physically straighten myself shake it off. I think it's the body feeling of having started something that cannot be completed. There will always be that sense of poise on the edge of a thing about to happen. I remember it. And I can feel why woman in this place would rush to get pregnant instantly again.

But also as my years creep by (for once I actually did do just that, hello Esmé!) and the time of being a mother and woman carries me further along I see the rightness in a big pause. A sense of letting time settle and of letting things have their place. Of not rushing, but letting the sadness be if it is, of letting the broodiness sit on me. It won't crush me, but I feel I have a lesson to learn from it. Some days I don't know what it might be, and I weep when the dog causes some mayhem when I might as easily have laughed. I suppose letting things be. As they are. Is a lesson in it's self. There are tiny wisps of time, like early morning mist that soon vanishes, when I do actually feel like I might one day become the woman who fears nothin'.

ballet girl

Is what she calls herself now. I don't think ballet is ever a thing I would have picked out for her to do, had I been given, say a big list of options. Especially when viewing her personality, I would have imagined something like karate more her thing. She thinks ballet is some sort of fairy-in-training thing. I let her think so. Why not? I think if I were three, I'd like to think it were possible.



So she will no doubt wear the shoes to shreds before her next lesson, so bent is she on practicing. Practicing what exactly, I don't know - skipping? Twirling? She is oh so proud and happy with herself it's impossible not to catch her enthusiasm too. Although I keep having to remind her that ballet slippers really are indoors shoes, unfortunately (or fortunately, since I'd be buying a pair a week the places she wants to wear them to).



Unlike, perhaps regular slippers or socks which she also thinks are multi indoor-outdoor use. I don't know why I don't just keep the front door permanently open. Wait! That is exactly what I *do* do! No wonder there is little distinction in her mind between indoors and out. Oh well. It's all a blur to me too.



ballet girl - she looks so big when she's in such a uniform. But cute. I am totally allowed to say that. She is totally cute. But generally in looks only. She bullies me to death to be honest. It's astounding. Her brothers are like the sweetest things in comparison, but her voice is a fog horn blasting us all to do her bidding. Never mind 'fairy', I think she reckons on being Queen. It sort of suits her in any case.

yarning along

I am knitting The Beauty another pair of the mittens I made last year and including it in this week's Yarn Along. The pattern is the one I invented after not finding one to my specific liking and can be found here or on the right over there under the 'tutorial' heading in the sidebar.

The ones from last year fit fine still. Only the puppy just chewed them to shreds. On reflection it might not have been the best project to ease myself back in to the world of knitting with. Considering my left hand is still sort of stiff and use is limited and knitting mittens requires the use of four small fiddly needles. But, well I am just crazy about these yarns, one Colinette Art (the blue) and the pink was a super soft woolly gift from a NZ buddy. I am sure knitting is The Best sort of physio a hand with a severed tendon could ever want to do. And I feel grateful and happy that I managed to knit one entire mitten in just two days. Right now for my hand and sanity it's a big deal. In fact I am sure a miniature mitten might just be the best thing I could have picked to knit, since it's satisfyingly small.

Looking forward tonight to The Man piling wood on the fire and sitting to knit the other. And then reading in bed. My second Charles Frazier book this week. Read Cold Mountain last (again) and it's one of my favourite cold weather reads. Hope Thirteen Moons measures up.

pumpkin heads

We carved ours early.





We like a week of enjoying them all lit up. I love how they all had ideas of their own design. The Beauty worked away at hers until every scrap had been removed. Then I cut out the excess flesh to store in the freezer until such time as inclination towards muffin or soup making strikes. Felix on the other hand, sighed and huffed and flumped about with his pumpkin and left me to do the harder bits, waiting until only the face carving was left. Isaac did every last bit himself.





Pumpkins: Felix, Isaac


The Beauty was given flower-fairy lights recently and so we hung them in the bedroom (she and I share that bed) and Mr Pumpkin Head came with us too. We were well lit to read spooky stories. The man thinks it's entirely PINK in there now, but doesn't seem to care (or notice such things normally, as a rule). He thinks only Real Men wear pink in any case. I guess that explains away the pink work shirts I find in the wash...