You know it's hot when....

When your washing on the line takes 15 mins to dry.
When you open the doors and windows and it makes things hotter.
When the butter is melted in the time it takes to transport it from the fridge to the bench.
When a big tough 8 year old starts playing in paddling pools.

When you wake up with a pounding heat headache every morning.
When your makeup slides off your face and onto your iPhone every time you take a call.
When you just can't drink too much iced coffee.
When you 'shade hop' all the way down the road.
When your ankles swell up just like your nanas.
When you're stuck in endless sweltering Tube rides, pressed up against men in damp synthetic shirts, smelling af flop sweat and lunchtime beer.

When the park turns brown.
When the garden needs watering every day.  Sometimes twice.
When even the weeds are dying.
When the lettuces all start to bolt.
When the lawn looks beyond redemption, even with regular watering.

Give us a break! Just a few cooler respite days! London doesn't wear hot weather as well as cities in more tropical climes (aircon and swimming pools)..

That time of year...

Wimbledon tennis. Meaning I stay well away from the Village and the hordes of fit, tanned people wandering around in expensive smart/casual sports wear. And the heaving bars with people spilling out onto the street. And the rackety clatter and whine of helicopters flying overhead and hovering over the courts for those birds eye views. Also, inevitably, I can expect rain.

And of course , accompanying Wimbledon, come the strawberries. Another bumper year it is too.  I made the rash decision last night to dispose of 3 kgs in a gigantic late night jam making session. I ended up using 2 preserving pans and the resulting luscious pink goo ended up in 12 jars and a 1 litre pyrex jug in the fridge, when I ran out of jars. (Have dug up more jars today and will see how this jam reheats for subsequent bottling).

And a little boy of my acquaintance is camping on my back lawn this weekend so he can get up early and beat the birds to the strawberries for breakfast. He'll be able to have a crack at the raspberries too, I'm happy to say. And I think we might be able to rustle up a back yard picnic too....(note last weekends effort - my kiwi cheese scones, bacon and egg pie and strawberries from under the clothes line).

Time and Motion Study

OK, I'm going all Victor Meldrew.  But really....

Time and motion study #1. To the lady I was stuck behind today as she took 7 manoeuvres to back  into a car space... Why bother? It's clearly easier to back out from a little space to a big one than vice versa. Or was it just practise?  With a string of cars behind you?

Time and motion study #2. If 1 of the 2 sets of underground carpark lifts is shut down, please post the advisory notice at the entry barrier rather than on the defunct lift. That way, patrons can choose to park in the section with the working lift rather than hike from one end to the other and back. Twice.

Time and motion study #3. To the sandwich girl at the station. The point of the blue plastic gloves is to keep germs off the food. You don't wear them to take payment, make change and then go back to handling the food. Eurgh...

Boing boing boing....

Yes, Spring has sprung again! And I know I always rhapsodise over Spring, but I just can't help it.  Especially this year, after a good 6 months of Winter... The garden is looking a bit tired and I clearly need to get out there with some fertiliser and a good watering in. But you can smell that smell of things growing.

Last weekend I beggered myself  assembling a new arch for the corner plot, stripping out the greenhouse, cleaning it, boosting up the pots and planting tomatoes/chillies/cucumbers. I also disassembled my strimmer and figured out how to change the cord, and gave the lawn a good mow.  Waiting for a bit of rain so I can weed and feed it too.

But I'm tinged by a little sadness this year.  I may be moving on to pastures new within the year (and a new gardening challenge perhaps). But it's hard to leave the old garden that you have nurtured for so long.  It is far from the grubby, bramble and nettle filled lot that it was when I moved in.

Let's face it, I am not an apartment living kind of gal. I'm sitting here typing with dirt under my nails from the spot of watering and weeding I did this afternoon, and I'll be going back out this eveing to plant up the trays of seedlings, clematis and jasmine I bought at the garden centre on Sunday. Bliss....  I might just grab a cup of tea and soak up some watery vitamin D in my back yard.

Barrow of Glory

In celebration and commemoration of my significant birthday last month, I decided to donate a barrow to the Wandle Trust river clean up crew. 

However, I felt that it needed some appropriate personalisation and thusly, found myself on the day before it's inaugural launch at the April cleanup, nipping in and out of the garage in the cold and wet, painting red kiwis along one side and blue swirly water along the other. All in completely inappropriate paint that seemed to need 4 coats and will probably get scraped off within the first 3 outings. 

But it was good to see it in action for the first time yesterday - a cleanup on the river in Wandsworth, on the first really Springlike day we have experienced this year. How lovely was it sitting in the sun without a coat or scarf! How blue was the sky? How yellow were the daffs and forsythia out of my garden?

I had an enthusiatic surge of baking for the crew. 55 people, 40 slices of brown sugar rhubarb cake, 4 dozen freshly baked muffins - strawberry/cinnamon and apricot/oat/honey, and 4 dozen fruity/seedy flapjacks. and not one piece of anything was left at the end of the day. I came home with half a flask of cooling coffee. Better for the hips I suppose....

Master Tea Blend

I've always struggled to find a tea that I feel is completely 'me'. Builders tea has too much tannin, Earl Grey is lovely but ubiquitous these days, and then there's a raft of teas that are too bitter, astringent, dishwater etc.

I thought I would have a stab at blending one just for me - my signature blend so to speak.  For a start, I did't realise how difficult it would be to find leaf tea (instead of bags) and I have had to resort to a couple of delis and specialist tea shops. Ouch, not cheap....

I decided I was looking for something I could drink as an alternative to coffee in the morning (i.e. a distinctive and smoky pick-me-up). So I thought I would keep it simple and find a good, fragrant bergamot Earl Grey as a base and hit it with an overtone of smoke - Lapsang Souchong seemd to be a good choice, roasted as it is over fragrant pine needles.

Some trial and error was involved.  I had to get the proportions right (I really didn't like Lapsang on its own - my mouth tasted like an ashtray afterwards.) But I finally hit on a good blend for me - 80% Earl Grey to 20% Lapsang.  A fragrant mix with a smoky overtone. Since I happened across this, I have been drinking it several times a day.  The good thing about tea leaves and an infuser, is that you can use one load to make 2-3 cups of tea through the day, so it works out pretty economically.

I might try replacing the Earl Grey with a more citrussy Lady Grey and see how that goes. And perhaps design a pretty, personalised jar to put it in....

Birthdays and Special Times.

Man, have I had a week of it.  I do have a talent for stretching my birthdays out over a week or more. And this year was no exception.

My birthday celebrations started a week early, at a local river cleanup where my damp, wader clad colleagues set up a surprise party for me with balloons, a cake and flowers.  And a ragged chorus of 'Happy Birthday' sung by 62 people on a muddy riverbank in the perishing cold. A lovely kick off for the main event...

The following weekend was a self indulgent one. A trip up to York for

a weekend of wandering through the old town, little boutiques, markets, junk shops, delis, National Trust properties, York Minster and the Jorvik Viking centre.  I had a lovely time just following my feet and kept myself well stoked up in the cold, with cups of tea and cakes...

This trip was followed soon after by a spa break on my actual birthday in the middle of the New Forest with a couple of me old muckers. Birthday cake, champagne, posh dinners and a full day of pampering and hydrotherapy.....Bliss! (Ahem, I might have to develop a nervous complaint to justify doing this more often...)

And finally my birthday fortnight closed with a Weekend in Whitstable with my gay fellas and their 2 adorable mini Schnauzers. Much wine was drunk.  Much sitting in the pub with papers and wonderfully well behaved dogs after chilly walks along the waterfront (yes, Spring has not touched us yet) and much excellent eating in my fave gastro pub, the Three Mariners at Oare.

I now need a week or so to detox, pay bills, do laundry and get my house in order. But it was all so so worth it.....

To Date or not to Date.

I have just officially given up on internet dating. God only knows, I've had a good crack at it over the last 2 years. But I have come to a few gritty conclusions that now take me down a different path.

1) Internet dating was invented by men and designed around their shopping behaviours. That is, make a check list of what you want and work through this comprehensively with the profiles you view on line. A very rational, deconstructionist approach. Has own money? Tick. Come hither smile? Tick. Tight bum? Tick. Fifteen years younger? Tick. Will look past my pot belly and grizzly dental work? Tick. You get the picture.....About as heart warming and inspiring as a trip to the plumbing supplies wholesaler.

2) Well, we all lie on line don't we? 75% of the men I have met up with have lied about their age - sometimes to the tune of 10-15 years. They are entirely unapologetic about it and justify it by announcing that they feel so much younger that their real age so it doesn't count. Believe me, it counts.

3) Men's manners go right out the window when they perceive they have an endless array of women to choose from. Emailing/texting or talking on the phone, I mean it's not like talking to a real person, right? I find myself fielding incredibly personal questions and fending off sleazy/puerile innuendo before we've even met. I would never carry out these conversations with someone I met through friends, or work or in day to day activities. 

I give up. I'm just going to have to get out and about a bit more. Men are so much nicer in the real world.....

Dolbell Reserve

I was feeling a bit nostalgic for the Dolbell Reserve today.  This is a lovely park reserve comprising a high grassy hill ridge, with a stretch of tree dotted park and picnic area at the bottom and a forest walk up one side connecting it to the summit. It rises up behind my parents suburb in Napier and can be seen for miles. The sun hits it in the mornings and the dry, yellowed grasses seem to glow in the early light.

It's a lovely hill to look up towards in the mornings over your tea and toast, but over the 2012 Xmas break I also went for a couple of early morning walks up there (some exercise before the heat of the day set in). It really is a magical spot - and it makes me think what a numpty I am for not having made that walk a more regular event.

With the folks moving away from the area within the next couple of months, I'm realising this familiar landmark won't be within easy reach any more on my trips back, and it  makes me a bit sad. Typically, you don't appreciate these familiar places until you lose them.

Never mind.  This hill is special and will always hold a place in my heart and memories.

Mug Shots.

I've just been through the agonising and expensive exercise of getting photos taken for a passport renewal. Usually I go for the best of five and have them taken over the space of a week or so, but this was for a passport that had already expired and I was in a hurry to get the application in. So I did the rounds, got 3 photos in one day and went home to peruse the results.

In the first I looked like a hooker recently beaten up by her pimp. Pallid, dishevelled and lumpen with my carefully applied makeup looking like 2 black eyes.

In the second I looked jowlly with the uncomfortably pained look of someone with a bowel obstruction.

In the third and final one, the one I eventually submitted, the aging photographer said I had a look of Britt Ekland about me. Yes, perhaps - Britt Ekland is 70 after all and the photo didn't look far off the mark...

I sent it away, and received my passport back within the week. God help me.  I'm going to have to live with this for the next 5 years. But when did they cut the life of a passport back from 10 to 5 years? Actually, on second thoughts, with this one it may be a blessing...

Where Sheep do Roam (on Roads)

With my NZ sheep farming background, I like sheep and have been thinking today of things Ovine. My recent trip to the Peak District had me wandering around the Chatsworth grounds on a beautiful sunny (if crisp) winters day. Sheep were happily grazing in the sunshine.  It also happened that they were thronging on the estate roads like drunken youths on a Friday night.

It soon became clear that the estate team had been assiduously salting/gritting the roads against ice, perhaps not realising that sheep love nothing more than a good salt lick... It was hilarious to see them all with their heads down licking the roads en masse while traffic backed up in both directions. Fearless, they were.

It contrasted with my recent mid summer NZ trip and the hot dusty Hawkes Bay country roads. A lot of sheep being moved on roads shimmering in 32 degree heat. A lot of slow, patient driving following dogs, quad bikes and flocks of bobbing sheeps bums. I could almost see my 14 yr old self following on foot, flapping her arms and going Shooossshhh shooossshhh til they were though the gates. Sigh....

Loving the Lonely Ones...

I realise it's been a looooonnnnngggg time since I signed on and wrote a blog.  Not sure why - I got busy, got out of the habit etc etc.  But Valentines day seemes to be a propitious time to pick it up again.

I've been pondering on love this morning.  How it can be so hard to find, and sometimes, so hard to hang on to. But love comes in many guises and we should throw that love out there, regardless. Friends, family, children, pets, gardens, favourite books - what's not to love?

But I also spare a special thought for those without love in their lives - the lost, the lonely, the isolated and the aged or ill. Or just those who can't feel the love around them.  These are the people who need it most.

Valentines Day can be bittersweet. While the lucky celebrate it with their loved ones, for others it only highlights the hole in their lives. Lets make it less Commercial (with a capital C), and focus on more tender and loving kindness in the world...