It's good to talk - and walk

Last Saturday I went up to London to meet up with five other ‘girls’ from my year, my house, and other ‘old girls’, for lunch at Quaglino’s. I had met all 'my lot' in the last five years, but one of our number hadn’t seen any of the others since 1977. We had such a good time catching up and reminiscing.

Practicenurse and I met in 1969 when I went to the school (I still hate that she’d been boarding there since she was 5); GP joined us in 1970 which was also when Earlyyearsteacher came to school. Schoolfriend (and Youngest’s Godmother, owner of one of my chairs) came in 1973 and we’ve kept in close touch ever since. And Ladyflautist came in 1974. I left for sixth form in a boys’ school, the others stayed. That we went from four to eleven over a longish period, but at a formative time, seems to have resulted in very strong bonds despite years of not meeting up. We were all remarkably like ourselves, both in character and appearance. We didn’t stop talking, and I think we only managed to break up because no one was leaving alone.
I stayed with Schoolfriend overnight. We had a girly evening in front of the TV, did some useful work sorting her bedroom now the carpet’s been laid – I’m a dab hand at hanging curtains as you might expect – and took a walk in her local park before I returned home to cook a roast dinner. (No one had starved in my absence.)
This Sunday we will take a walk and a pub lunch with a gang of Husband’s Gunner friends, made at Staff College when in their early thirties – a different sort of bond, but just as strong!

Recipe for success

We've been in Dorset.
It was a bit damp but a welcome break despite the lack of Eldest. We walked, pub lunched, ate fish and chips, entertained friends for the day, went to the seaside, did a spot of gardening, looked at Daniel Craig, let Husband win at Scrabble, fought over the puzzles in The Times, and enjoyed the view from the top of the ridge.
Meanwhile I've been asked to post the recipe for Prize Pumpkin. So, in the hope that it's not too late (and pumpkins might be on offer now of course), here it is:

7cm fresh ginger, thinly sliced
Seeds extracted from 8 cardamom pods, ground
1-2 fresh green chillies finely chopped
8 skinless chicken breasts cut into 1cm slices
125g butter
625-750g onions, thinly sliced
6-8 cloves of garlic, thinly sliced
125g button mushrooms
50g plain flour
450ml milk
1 large pumpkin (3.25- 3.50kg)
Sunflower oil
Melt ¾ of the butter in a large pan, add onions and cook over a low heat until soft. Add the ginger, cardamom, chillies and garlic then stir. Add the remaining butter and then the chicken and mushrooms once it’s melted and stir to coat. Stir in the flour then gradually add the milk and season with salt. Bring to the boil, stirring all the time until very thick. Remove from the heat.
Cut a circular hole in the top of the pumpkin and scoop out the seeds and all the stringy interior leaving only the firm flesh.
Spoon the chicken mixture into the pumpkin and replace the ‘lid’. Smear the outside with sunflower oil and place in a roasting tin. Place in oven at 240°C for 25-30 minutes. Now turn it down to 180°C for about 1 ¼ hours.
To serve, scoop out the flesh of the pumpkin with the chicken mixture. Serves 8.

Josceline Dimbleby tells you to move the cooked pumpkin onto a serving dish. In my experience you need to be able to serve it in whatever you cooked it in! Also, it tends to ‘leak’ pumpkin juices so don’t use anything too shallow! Any leftovers make really flavoursome soup.

Lucky me

My week started as usual with Pilates and helping in school. My boy has been reading during the holidays for the first time and as a result has not forgotten everything he learnt last year. We have been able to whiz through his reading and spelling and then share a chapter of Horrid Henry (which he loves, so I tolerate). My girl has not apparently done any 'work' at home so, as ever, we seem to be back at square one and she doesn’t really want to spend time with me. Persuading her to stay on task is fraught.
At upholstery I have now managed to get three more dining chairs redone; only two more to complete the set and I can play with something more interesting. I’ve got several pieces needing work...

I’ve been for a soul walk (rather than a dog walk you understand) around the village this morning, but not along the permissive footpath as the route was padlocked and the field full of horses doing trials. I don’t know anything about horses - or trials - but as we have new horsier neighbours at the farm I guess we’ll see more of this.
One night (Husband did the ballet run) I went to a Jamie (Oliver) at Home party in the village - in the olden days it would have been Tupperware. I went with Coffeeneighbour and we were the oldest people present, something we demonstrated by being the first to leave (and by knowing about Tupperware I expect). There was wine and beautiful nibbles, a DVD of Jamie welcoming us and thanking our lovely hostess, a quiz about Jamie and food (in which I did badly), and lots of chat. It was all very jolly. (I am a little cynical about this enterprise, but Jamie, like Delia and Nigella is, of course, a saint.)
I've also been to a Coffee Morning hosted by Gardeningneighbour. They are a circulating, weekly event which started life as a mothers' and toddlers' group, but is now firmly retired ladies of a certain age: there, I am young! It is not a club, you do not have to go, but it is a chatty, supportive forum. I was taken by Gardeningneighbour on only my third day in the village – the alternative, on a dark January day, was cleaning my cold, and, as yet unfurnished house. The ladies were extremely welcoming and full of useful information about the area. I met Brown Owl, the Gardening Club Chair, and the leader of the WI, found out whom to ask for an allotment, and what they thought about all matters village. It is not competitive coffee, the hostess supplies bought biscuits and instant coffee and we all contribute to a fund. This week however we were raising money for Macmillan so there was an exchange of cake. (Obviously I only ate some to show my support.)
Both outings were social occasions: with one group I am about 10 years too old, with the other 10 years too young… I suspect this means I should be doing something else at my stage of life, but, do you know, I like it just as it is!

Half way there

The kid done good. Four AS levels (sort of half an A level) and a thing called Science in Society: As the lot. Clever girl! Made us proud and all that.
She was expecting to do well apparently: it was made clear that we should have a bottle of champagne to hand ready to put in the fridge as soon as we got back from Dorset and checked the post. This from the girl who, along with her two 17 year old friends, whom we had taken to stay at the cottage for a few days before the family, said “No thank-you” when asked if they’d like to keep the half bottle of wine and the cans of lager not yet cleared out of the fridge by our friends who had been visiting. (Gosh that sounds complicated! Our friends borrowed the cottage for a few days; we took Eldest down to take over from them and joined them for lunch; they took their stuff, but offered to leave food if the girls wanted it.)

I don’t suppose a taste for champagne will do her any harm: she only had a glass so sadly we had to have the rest.
You may be amused to hear the girls had eaten well, watched lots of DVDs on a laptop, played cards and Monopoly, walked all of a hundred yards to the farm to feed the ducks and buy ice-creams and had had one decent walk over the hill to the pub for supper. One of the three, we were informed, “doesn’t do walks”.

Note: the background is Wiltshire not Dorset, but the girl is mine.

Prized

So, all sorts of news:

Both the doll and the devil won first prize, and the doll’s outfit won best in show and, thus, a cup!
Do not get excited! Each entry cost 30p, that’s an outlay of £1.20. There were lots of liqueurs and mine got nowt. Two first prizes netted 60p each… So I broke even… Except that I am requested to get the cup engraved with my name… Cost unknown…

It rained rather in Dorset, but there was more fine weather than wet, and just the change of scene, and reduction in the scale of the housewife’s chores made for a welcome holiday. We walked quite a bit, ate well, played Scrabble and Cluedo, fought over who got to do the puzzles in The Times and stayed in bed ‘til the end of the Today programme. Lovely! (The photo is a view taken in Arne.)


I have thought of several things to tell you about: AS levels, Geography, Lionel Shriver’s So Much For That, Glorious Mud, Church Fetes, and, probably more, but I think smaller helpings would help the digestion - and I need to catch up on what everyone else has to say!

Cornered!

I have a pale mark on my eyelid. It isn’t a spot, and there’s no depth to it, it’s almost as if there were a light reflecting in it. I had an eye test the other day and was told I ought to visit my GP for a cholesterol test as such marks can be an indication of a raised level. Oh!

The test apparently did show that my cholesterol was high, but factoring in my family history, blood pressure and general health the GP felt my risk of an ‘event’ was low but I should think about my diet and exercise, and be tested again next year. So there you are: I knew I needed to do something about creeping weight gain and a sedentary life style, and now I have no option.
Last week’s score: 1 Pilates session and a v. short walk in the village, but I had an excuse. Must do better.

Half-term break

That's half-term over for another term then. The girls and I have been to our favorite other place: the Isle of Purbeck in Dorset. We've had glorious weather, enjoyed a number of fine walks, eaten a scrumptious cream tea (well, strictly speaking only I ate a scrumptious cream tea. For some unknown reason Eldest doesn't like clotted cream, and Youngest prefers a toasted teacake. Foolishly they dared me to eat both portions of clotted cream, something that I'm able to report I had no difficulty in achieving.), read several novels, did lots of Times puzzles and generally chilled out. The cottage is petite and there is no TV so it is a great place for quality family time.

But the best laid plans can go awry! Husband came down after uni on Tuesday night and joined us for a walk and pub lunch the next day. I put him back on the train on Thursday at 6.20am and he stayed in a hotel overnight. Got a call on Friday saying he was on his way. The train broke down: it took him 2 1/2 hours to get from Bristol to Bath where he gave up and cadged a bed off the in-laws. On reflection it didn't seem worth his while to come south on Saturday since we needed to get back early on Sunday for Eldest's inevitable ballet. So we came home on Saturday afternoon so he wouldn't be alone and we wouldn't be under pressure on Sunday morning.

The girls are convinced I kiboshed British Rail so we could be home for Strictly......