resilience

This is not the best window box I have ever created. It is too monotone, too scruffy and there is one plant which is the wrong shade of blue but it has given me so much pleasure since Christmas. These winter flowering pansies have a tragic history of neglect, sitting in a tray until I hastily planted them when I remembered that Tracey, the Boot Camp Gardener, was coming to visit. A couple of days later I noticed that they had collapsed from the frost so they were banished to the end of the garden. I rediscovered them after Christmas, flowering their little blue socks off, and gave them centre stage. The flowers may look fragile but they have survived a series of brutal frosts, collapsing completely and then reviving as soon as the temperature rises. It won't be long before they are replaced by a Spring window box full of bulbs so this is an appreciation post. Winter flowering pansies, I salute you

tall tales

MasterM's friends are spilling the beans.

"Do you remember that party when MasterM said he was in the import/export business, specialising in giraffes? And the girl was quite impressed. Especially when he told her that giraffes can't lie down so he had to charter special planes."

MasterM is unabashed.

"I explained that I saved costs by using the space underneath the giraffes' legs to transport rhino but sadly she didn't believe that."

teamwork

MasterM and MissM were both at home this weekend and it was like drinking from a bottle of old whisky, very concentrated and with powerful echoes of times past. The ritual is the same every time - read their post, collect laundry (MasterM), inspect book collection (MissM), 'borrow' some printer paper (MasterM), read The Week (MissM), sleep (MasterM), discuss holiday plans, eat MrsM's finest cooking and get financial advice from MrM. And then they set off for their everyday lives laden with gifts:

MissM 

pot of iris

6 x Comice pears

bottle of Quarr Abbey cider

MasterM 

pink giraffe silk tie

MrM's ancient Barbour jacket

jar of Quarr Abbey raspberry jam

MasterM had been invited to play for an alumni team at his school and so met up with old friends whom he had not seen for a long time. It was very heartwarming to see how much he enjoyed this even though he has social networks in London and various points south of the Equator. This is the Facebook generation and they can keep in contact with school friends even if they are geographically separated but nothing beats an afternoon playing football together followed by a few beers. Meanwhile MissM and her school friends have formed a book group and they take it in turns to choose a book and host a meal to chat about it. I felt a brief pang of envy as I remembered how lonely I had been as a new mother at that age but that was quickly superseded by gratitude that they both understand how precious friendship is and that it is vital to invest time and energy to maintain it. 

silence

It is foggy here on the Isle of Wight, my home for the next few days, and at night I can hear the fog horn booming which is curiously comforting - an auditory memory from a childhood by the sea. The fog creates a sense of being cocooned, separated from the world, which is appropriate because I am at Quarr Abbey on retreat. It is a chance to read, write and reflect and I am very grateful to the monks for this opportunity to experience silence in a noisy world.

wilderness

Last week we listened to Dan Cruickshank give a talk on his lifetime of travel in search of extraordinary architecture. Dan has been privileged to explore buildings all over the world in the environment that they were designed for and his passion for his work made it a fascinating evening.

At the end of the talk he described a perilous trip into the mountains of Afghanistan to visit the Minaret of Jam. I was captivated by his description of heat and dust, river crossings, encounters with bandits, and finally arriving at the remote valley hardly knowing what to expect. The tower is an architectural masterpiece, the second tallest brick built tower in the world and is covered with intricate decorations and inscriptions. Inside the minaret there is a double helical staircase coiling up the walls to a spectacular view of the mountain pass.

We are fortunate to live in an age when exploration can be shared through high quality images and video but only a gifted communicator such as Dan can enable an audience to experience the thrill of turning into a mountain valley to see that extraordinary, fragile tower which has survived against all the odds since 1190.

country mice

I don't want any of you to be anxious that I will fail to meet my weekly recipe target. The photo above is evidence of Lamb Boulangère from the current 'Delicious' magazine. It is Westcountry lamb, of course, bundled up most artistically in red and white butchers twine. I cannot say hand-on-heart that I have never cooked à la Boulangère before but I have never cooked lamb on top of potatoes before so I'm calling it new and MissM is fully occupied this weekend maintaining her cultural and gastro profile in the coolest parts of London so I can cut myself some slack. MasterM is at home for the weekend and has been riding on the moor, dodging rain showers and building up a healthy appetite so we will pop out after eating the lamb and get our pudding in the local pub. It is a warm and convivial place in the heart of the village and the menu distinguishes between HM (homemade) and LM (locally made). I have a weakness for Suzy's bread pudding but the portions are enormous, calculated to feed a ploughboy and his oxen, so I try to resist the temptation. And now I must stop to close the curtains and put another log on the fire. Keep cosy is my new motto.

MasterM, Obedient Servant

MasterM is writing a letter to his new Commanding Officer. With a fountain pen.

Sir,

I have the honour to inform you that following my commissioning...I will be reporting for duty...at 0700 on Monday x January.

Various pleasantries follow until the letter concludes

I have the honour to be,
Sir,
your obedient servant,

MasterM

Letters like this have been written by successive generations of young officers. It may seem an anachronistic tradition in an age of email and text message but the structure of the letter is designed to introduce MasterM, giving information about his achievements and interests. In return MasterM will receive a hand written letter of acknowledgement and welcome. These formalities ensure that working relationships and new teams can be established as quickly as possible.

MrsM ponders the vision of MasterM as an obedient servant and concludes that miracles must happen after all.

bring on the vegetables

Plate of White Beans

Giovanna Garzoni (1600 - 1670)

I have been reading "This Is Not A Diet Book" by Bee Wilson. It is full of common sense - ideas that I have read over and over again in the past few years collated in a slim volume. I want to find it inspiring but it is curiously dampening as though I have been trapped in a corner at a party by an evangelical vegetarian. I know that the proposals are sensible but at the end of each chapter I feel like escaping to find a cookery book with pictures of decadent pavlovas and lush trifles which is foolish because I need to make changes.

Plate of Asparagus with Carnations and a Grasshopper

Giovanna Garzoni (1600 - 1670)

Much of my time over the past twenty eight years has been devoted to looking after my family but now I want to find a way to cook and eat which fits into my new 'Home-Alone with MrM' lifestyle. I have to unlearn the habits that have served me well feeding four and it is harder than it should be because the instinct to nurture is embedded at a deep level and I resist every step. I have to deconstruct my pattern of shopping and eating, discard what is no longer appropriate and experiment with new foods. And then, if I can successfully simplify my relationship with food, I want to get on with living. I must persevere.

Bowl of Artichokes

Giovanna Garzoni (1600 - 1670)

positive self-talk

Amaryllis grew 3mm overnight.

Have calculated that the EDF (*Expected Date of Flowering) is 24 October 2017.

Am getting well ahead for Christmas 2017 decor plans.

Opus Anglicanum

Clare Chasuble (1272 - 1294)

© Victoria and Albert Museum, London

It is Friday night at the V&A. The galleries are full of the bright young intelligentsia of London, a man who is the spitting image of Ai Wei Wei, and MrsM having a date night with MrM in the Opus Anglicanum exhibition. 

The exhibition is awesome in the original 'full-of-awe' meaning of the word. Exquisite embroideries which have survived for hundreds of years, lustrous materials in rich colours, delicate shadings of thread, shimmering gold accents. Most of the extant examples are church vestments which have been protected by ritual use and careful storage in huge cope chests or buried as funeral garb.

Two of the bright young things are walking around just in front of us and they stop in front of the Clare Chasuble and exclaim "This fabric came from Iran! In the thirteenth century! Isn't that absolutely mind blowing!" Everything about this chasuble is extraordinary: the blue-green satin fabric which must have travelled from Iran to England, the vibrant colours and sinuous silver embroidery, the lively characterisations of the figures, and the fact it has survived for over seven  hundred years.

It is almost certain that this chasuble was commissioned to commemorate the marriage of Margaret de Clare to Edmund, Earl of Cornwall in 1272. Margaret de Clare, aunt of Elizabeth de Clare who endowed Clare College, successfully sued for divorce in 1294 on the grounds of cruelty and then lived quietly until her death in 1312 when she was buried in Chertsey Abbey.

Many thanks to the fascinating Edward II blog for untangling the lives of the three Margaret de Clares.