Steaming Mad

How do you clean your microwave oven? Mine is cleaned on a fairly regular basis, when my culinary creations become creMations. Bob says there is a particular distressed sound I make when I open the door to find the custard/beans/milk/porridge has boiled over! Mind you, he managed to explode an egg in there in January. 
After rinsing the plate and wiping off the displaced food, I usually boil a pyrex jug of water so that the steam lifts off the grime. I add a little acid in the form of a squeeze of lemon, splash of vinegar, or some citrus halves. Quick easy, and fairly inexpensive.
But here's my Pointless Gadget of the Month - an Angry Mama, aka Steaming Stella [apologies to all Mamas and Stellas out there- I did not choose the name]

You fill her with water and vinegar, and she will steam clean your microwave oven.
Prices vary from £2 to £10. You can choose other colours, but they are all female. 
This gadget is just so wrong from so many points of view!

Pause In Lent #3 - Walking By Faith

It's funny how things in life connect up sometimes. When I was away in Albania, I missed the local Churches Together Songs Of Praise Evening [held at UCF, well attended, fantastic tea, superb singing, by all accounts] So I never met Father Dylan James, the new priest at the RC Church. He'd asked for "The Footprints Hymn" to be sung. We knew the poem [which I continue to credit as 'anon' because three different women have claimed that they wrote it] but not a hymn.  Some research unearthed this piece, written by a Rob Atkins, Baptist Minister from Wales [who trained just after Bob, at Spurgeons College] Rob wrote it while sitting on a sand dune on holiday in Bordeaux. The hymn fits the tune of Londonderry Air. 

A number of people here have since said how much they liked this piece, so here it is...

Upon the shore, I walked with Him at even
And I looked back upon the path we’d trod
And in the sand I traced our way at even
And I was glad I’d walked through life with God:
For side by side we’d journeyed through together
All through the world’s wide wilderness of care
And side by side we’d journeyed through to even:
Safe at His side the Lord my God had brought me here.

But in my joy I caught a strain of sadness
To give me pause when thinking of my way
For on the shore I saw He’d left me lonely
When I had most the need of Him to stay:
When I was tired He’d left me worn and wandering,
He’d left me lone when I was fighting fears,
He’d let me tread the steepest slopes in solitude
Before He came back to my side to dry my tears.

But then the Lord drew near to me in comfort
And in His tenderness He made it plain
That in the times when dread and darkness threatened
He was my shield and shelter from the pain:
For on His shoulders He was gently bearing
And on His shoulders I from harm was free:
The single trace of footprints of the Master,
The single trace of footprints shows He carried me.

So on the shore I walk with Him at even;
I face the latter days of life secure,
For if my pilgrimage reserves me sorrow
The footprints show that He is strong and sure:
If I am near the gates of heaven weary,
No longer strong enough to stride alone
The footprints show that He is there to carry me:
The footprints show the Lord my God will bear me home.

Going Like The Clappers

The Gentle Author has just published an update about the campaign to save the Whitechapel Bell Foundry [read it here]  There is an online petition organised by the East End Preservation Society [click here to sign] I hope this succeeds very quickly, as the auction of machinery is scheduled for the end of the month.

btw, nobody is quite sure if going like the clappers refers to the 'tongues' of the bells, but it seemed to me like a good title for this post.

Home In The Daytime - But No Home At Night...

In a recent blog post I mentioned my newly re-covered ironing board. My blogfriend Frugally Challenged asked what became of the remainder of the circular tablecloth which I had used for the previous cover. 
There was a small amount left, so yesterday afternoon I made another doll's dress for 'Lucy'. I cut it very carefully to make use of the curved hem and the border print. 
I think it has worked well.
I'm making clothes for two American Girl Dolls now, so I also produced two little tops using a piece of striped shirting fabric someone gave me. They have elasticated necklines and cuffs, and fasten down the back with Velcro.
I have been incredibly busy with a rather special sewing project recently, so spending an afternoon with the Sewing machine was a pleasant diversion. 
Last night was something completely different altogether. 
Our youth group at church have been thinking about the problems of refugees and they did a [short] charity sponsored walk round the area in the early evening. When they got back to the church car park, it was quite dark. They found a refugee lying huddled in a sleeping bag, under a tarpaulin strung between two trees. They had the chance to ask questions and discuss how it must feel.
I was playing the part of the refugee, and dressed in my brother's ancient NHS donkey jacket, my SILs 1980s dungarees [normally worn for painting] and an old long blonde wig. I wasn't recognised [except by a couple of very bright teenagers who know me quite well] 

Bob's photos taken in the dark didn't come out very satisfactorily. Interestingly I walked to church through the town. I noticed people looked at me, but if I caught their eye, then they immediately looked away. I sat down at a bus stop, and the woman at the other end of the seat [who had been looking all round at things before I got there] turned away and moved up to the other end of the bench. That didn't feel pleasant.
Once at the church, I was so tired I actually fell asleep lying on the ground. So when the kids came back, and stood round shining their torches and whispering, I was genuinely startled.
If I could feel uneasy over just a short time like that, in the town where I live, and in the grounds of my own church, what must it be like for genuine refugees wandering alone in search of safety and shelter?

Check Your Tension

Last week there was a pile of knitting patterns at my craft group, and a box for charitable donations. All women's and children's clothes, except for this one. After buying it, I realised that it was for 12" dolls, not 18". And for 3ply,  not DK. 
I was going to recalculate the pattern, multiplying everything by 1.5 to get the correct size. Then I had a thought. I checked the pattern for the tension  details. 
32 Stitches to 4" for 3ply. I knew that on 4mm needles with DK, 32 stitches measures 6". That's 1.5 times. So I knitted the party dress pattern using thicker wool and larger needles, adjusting length by a factor of 1.5. It worked beautifully. The leaflet suggested edging the neckline with a row of double crochet .  I did all the edges with a random yarn. The tie belt and buttons on the back look good too.    

I have never tried knitting a pattern with different sized needles and yarn before, but this has worked really well. I Perhaps I'll have a go at the little coat next! 

Super Swedish Semlor

About 18 months ago, Liz took me to the ScandiKitchen in Great Titchfield Street. We had a lovely light lunch and I enjoyed looking at the goodies on sale in the shop. I just picked up the March 2017 Edition of the Waitrose Magazine, and there was a picture of Bronte Aurell, food writer and co-founder of ScandiKitchen. In Sweden they like food in a seasonal pattern [there's a season for saffron buns, and also for fermented herring. I shall skip that one!]

She said in her article that Lent is the season for Semlor. These cardamom buns with whipped cream and marzipan are a huge tradition in Sweden and other parts of Scandinavia. Traditionally associated with Shrove Tuesday, they are now enjoyed from January until Easter. You can freeze the unfilled buns, but once filled, they should be eaten on the same day. 

Prep time: 1 hour, plus proving and cooling. Cooking time:10-15 minutes

Makes: 10 large or 15 small buns

Ingredients

·         75g very soft unsalted butter

·         250ml whole milk

·         2 x 7g sachets dried active yeast

·         50g caster sugar

·         1 egg, beaten

·         400g strong white bread flour, plus extra for dusting

·         ½ tsp fine salt

·         ½ tsp baking powder

·         30 cardamom pods – shake out seeds and grind them finely [1tsp]

·         vegetable oil, for kneading and greasing

 Filling

·         150g marzipan

·         150ml fresh custard

·         300ml whipping cream

·         2-3tbsp icing sugar

·         ½ tsp vanilla extract

·         icing sugar, for dusting

Method

1. Warm the milk gently, add the yeast, 1tsp sugar,and stir. Cover with cling film and leave 15 minutes to activate [it should bubble up slightly]

2. In a freestanding mixer fitted with a dough hook add milk,sugar and yeast to the bowl. Mix flour, salt, sugar, baking powder and cardamom in a separate bowl. Add half the dry mix to the yeast mixture then beat in the softened butter  and half the egg [reserve the remainder of the egg]. Add remnaining flour mix and beat for 5 minutes until the dough comes away cleanly from the sides of the bowl.  Cover bowl with oiled cling film and leave to rise in a warm place until doubled in size – 40-100 minutes.

3. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and knead again for a 2-3 minutes. Divide and shape the dough into 10 uniform balls [or 15 for small ones], then space well apart on a parchment-lined baking tray. Cover with clean dry teatowel. Leave to rise for another 30 minutes.

4. Preheat the oven to 200˚/fan 170˚/gas 6. Gently brush each bun with reserved beaten egg and bake for 8-12 minutes, until a rich brown colour and baked through; keep an eye on them as they can burn quickly. Remove from the oven and immediately cover with a clean, slightly damp tea towel to prevent the buns from forming a crust.

5. When the buns are completely cool, cut a ‘lid’ off each one (about ¼ of the way from the top). Scoop out about 1/3 of the inside of each bun and tear into a bowl. Add the custard, grate in the marzipan. The mixture should be spoonable, not too runny. 

6. Spoon the filling back into the buns. Whip the cream with 2tbsp sugar and vanilla until just firm, then use a piping bag – fitted with a star nozzle if you have one – to pipe it into all the buns. Put the lids back on and dust lightly with remaining icing sugar. 

Above is the picture from the magazine. Here on the right you see my attempt.  I was rather pleased with them. I made half the quantity and divided it into 8. However I did end up with leftover custard. Next time I think only I'd use one third of the quantity. The cardamom flavour was really different, and we both enjoyed these.

I'd definitely make them again.

If this sort of thing matters to you, then one of my small buns contains about 225 calories!

Put The Kettle On!

Cups of tea are constantly appearing here. It keeps me going - the poet William Cowper called it 'the cup that cheers but does not inebriate'. Tea comes from the plant Camellia Sinensis - Sinensis means 'from China', and Camellia is from Georg Kamel. He was a Moravian born Jesuit lay brother, pharmacist, and missionary to the Philippines, and Linnaeus [who classified plants] chose this name in 1753 to honour Kamel's contribution to botany. We have a Camellia Bush in our back garden- currently covered in fantastic pink blossoms

This variety here in Dorset is probably Camellia Williamsii or Camellia Japonica -not the variety which provides the tea!!
This week I listened to Dan Saladino on BBC's Food Programme, talking about tea. It was the second of his two programmes on the subject [links here and here] He spoke about Justin Rowlatt's report on the Tea Industry which JP prepared for the BBC in the summer of 2015 - which highlighted the appalling conditions suffered by many workers in the tea industry. Read JR's follow up report here.
The good thing is that, following the BBC reports, the owners of the plantations have speeded up their plans to repair and improve the living conditions for the workers, and put more money into this work. But it is still far from encouraging. McLeod Russell India and Tata [same as the steel company] are the two main owners involved in all this. The tea they supply goes to Twining, PG, Liptons and Tetley. 

Although they have Rainforest Alliance Certification [so the frogs etc are looked after] they sadly fall short on their provisions for the human beings who maintain and pick the tea crops.
So what can be done? The answer is not to stop drinking tea ...Campaigners argue that tea is just too cheap and the big brands need to pay fairer prices to plantations so they in turn can afford decent wages and conditions for workers. Tea plantations have traditionally restricted union membership, and sometimes ban NGOs from operating on their estates. They want that to change so workers can know their rights and be able to articulate their demands clearly and effectively. Campaigners believe tea lovers can help too, by using their voice and influence to keep companies honest. They want consumers to tell tea companies that conditions of the workers matter to them, and to challenge their favourite brand about what it is doing to ensure that its employees have decent homes and enough money to buy nutritious food. 

Most of the time** at home we drink Sainsbury's Red Label - a Fairtrade blended tea. I am very happy with the efforts made by this supermarket to ensure conditions for the workers are good. 
This blend is sourced from Fairtrade smallholder farmers’ co-operatives in Kenya, Malawi, Tanzania, Uganda and South India. 
It also came top in a taste test by Edward Bramah [of the Museum of Tea and Coffee in London] 

90% of us in the UK use teabags now - but I still prefer to make my tea in a teapot [with a teacosy]
** Bob is fond of Earl Grey, and I like Redbush [I like to use RB teabags when I brew myself some sweet spiced Chai] - but these tend to be occasional treats.
Do you drink tea? or are you committed to coffee? - would you be prepared to pay a little more for your favourite brand in order to benefit the workers on the plantation that produces it? 

From Pillar To Post, And Feeling Blue

Nobody is quite sure about the origin of the phrase "from pillar to post" -there are at least three theories

1. It was originally 'from post to pillory' - 14th century punishments being the whipping post and then the pillory. But there's no recorded evidence of the phrase that way round
2. Real [or Royal] tennis involved a court which had posts and pillars.
3. It is a corruption of the Spanish phrase 'from Herod to Pilate' relating to the trial of Jesus before his crucifixion.

This latest train of thought was sparked by two people discussing post boxes - aka pillarboxes. One was a local guy wondering on Facebook how an estate built in the 1960s had a George V post box [answer - Royal Mail reuses old boxes, so this one was relocated there after the estate was built]

The second pillarbox conversation was with Steph, on the subject of blue pillarboxes. 

It seems that when Air Mail first became popular, there were actually blue pillarboxes in selected locations throughout the UK so that people could separate surface mail from the flimsy blue missives.

By 1936, there were 139 such boxes in London, and 174 in the provinces. But they only lasted nine years on the streets. Now, I understand, there are only two blue boxes left in mainland Britain*. One is very near Steph's office in Manchester- and bizarrely the second is near her company's other office in Windsor.

The one on the left is outside Manchester's Museum of Industry and Science. It is still in use as a regular box - the right hand one is outside Windsor Castle, but the aperture is blocked and it is just a display piece! The right hand one is the more accurate 1930s colour. [The Manchester one isn't a genuine Air Mail box, just a repainted 1930s red one, sadly!]

When I visit Steph, I hope to get to visit the M of I & S, and learn more about the history of her new city.

Steph is greatly enjoying her job, working in brand and strategy development [more about that another time] 

Did you know that of the world's top 100 brands, 33% have logos which are blue?

I discovered that fact in a tweet from her new company [which has an orange logo]

There are a number of gold pillarboxes now, where towns have celebrated local Olympians. Some of the early boxes were green [*I believe there maybe blue boxes still in use in the Channel Islands and there's one on the Isle of Wight]

Do you have any interesting postboxes/pillarboxes near you?

Ding Dong!

I am beginning to feel that I am turning into a grumpy old woman, muttering and complaining about the way things are. But I am attempting to be more of a positive activist than a negative moaner-on-the-sidelines. 
I first posted about bell foundries closing in 2009 when news came through that the Loughborough Foundry had been saved from closure.

Then just before Christmas, I mentioned the proposed closure of the Whitechapel Foundry.
I am so happy to report that things are moving in a positive direction here - over the weekend, the Gentle Author posted about a consortium of heritage groups which have come together with the Spitalfields Trust, in an application to Tower Hamlets Council, to have the foundry designated as an Asset Of Community Value. They had a letter in The Times on Saturday and want people to write in support [details here] The talented artist Rob Ryan who lives and works in the East End, has produced a fantastic image for this campaign. I have sent my letter of support.

Pause In Lent #2 - The Guy With The Leaflets

I'm sitting typing this on Saturday afternoon - Sunday we are both preaching morning and evening [Bob at UCF, me at 2 different chapels a few miles away] and the day will be busy. Outside my window I can see the lovely pink blossoms on the cherry tree. The bulbs in the garden are blooming - hyacinths, snowdrops, narcissus, daffodils - and the amazing camellia bush has glorious pink blooms [I take no credit for any of these] Spring is definitely here.
And I can see a young guy with a bag on his back walking up the little close opposite - he is going from house to house putting leaflets through the doors. He did our side of the road first, so we have information about a local company who will sort out patios, tarmac and driveways. In fact I have two leaflets, stuck together. Straight into the recycling with them!

I hope he is getting reasonable pay for doing it [maybe it's the family business and he is doing it, unpaid, to help his Dad] At least it is a lovely afternoon - no wind or rain. But generally, shoving things through letterboxes is a pretty thankless task. Depending on the area, you have to contend with stiff front gates, dogs snapping at your fingers, very stiff letterbox flaps requiring two hands, and inconvenient ones at ankle level, and much more besides. And when it is really cold, you can't wear gloves because they prevent you separating the leaflets properly. And doing it when you have a baby in a buggy is even more complicated.

I worked on the Christmas Post once, when a student - and I hated it. I got told off because I did all the odd side of the busy main road, crossed over and did the evens. "You should do half a dozen one side, and then half a dozen the other" said the man at the Sorting Office. People have rung in and complained that their post came later than usual" I explained that for my own safety, I preferred to cross the road just once at the end, rather than back and forth a dozen times, and that furthermore, I'd planned to do the evens then the odds tomorrow, and that  my method was both safer and faster [that was my mistake - he was afraid a more efficient method might result in redundancies for the regular postmen] But I did at least get paid for it. The family got good Christmas gifts that year!
I have delivered leaflets for church events countless times. To be honest, I haven't really enjoyed that either[see letterbox/dog/glove issues above!] But I was doing it not for financial reward, but for love. We had publicity about Christmas or Easter, and I wanted to invite members of my community along, to hear about God's love. 

Churches generally don't do 'leaflet drops' quite as much as they used to. People are reluctant to volunteer [too busy with other things], and there is the cost of the printing, and 95% of the stuff on the mat goes into the recycling bin unread [and many front doors have signs requesting No Leaflets, or Tradesmen] and statistics apparently show that the number of people who came to church because they had a card through the door is a tiny proportion of the recipients of said cards...so it doesn't seem a good use of church resources. 

Despite the chart above, even the DMA says the average positive response rate for leaflet drops is just 1%.

I am inclined to agree with the decision to cut back on this sort of publicity. But I find myself challenged by this thought - what am I going to do this Easter with respect to inviting other people to Church? Pushing 20 cards through the doors of neighbours, and scuttling anonymously back down the path, can't really be called 'evangelism' can it? If I believe Easter is not about hot cross buns and chocolate, but about the Son of God conquering death, how do I plan to communicate that to the people around me?

Ozymandias, And The Gigantic Leg

In the writings of the Greek Historian Diodorus Siculus, [born in Sicily, Ist Century BC] is a description of a massive Egyptian statue and its inscription: "King of Kings, Ozymandias am I. If any want to know how great I am and where I lie, let him outdo me in my work." 

Ozymandias was another name given to Pharaoh Rameses II. The pharaoh, also known as Ramses the Great, was the third of the 19th dynasty of Egypt and ruled for 66 years, from 1279BC to 1213BC. He led several military expeditions and expanded the Egyptian empire to stretch from Syria in the east to Nubia (northern Sudan) in the south. His successors called him the Great Ancestor.
Two hundred years ago, the poet Percy Bysshe Shelley, and his friend Horace Smith had a competition to see who could write the best sonnet about this ancient ruler. Well, they were at a Christmas 1817 Houseparty, and maybe they were fed up with playing Charades, or listening to Percy's Missus telling ghost stories [that's Mary, who wrote Frankenstein] ...Poetry competitions were what they did to pass the time ... 

This was just after the announcement of the acquisition of a large fragment of a statue of Rameses II from the thirteenth century BC, by the British Museum. 

Percy and Horace wrote sonnets about the fact that all empires and emperors will eventually die and decay, and pass into oblivion.

Fast forward 150 years - and those of us in Grammar Schools in the 60s had to read [and maybe memorise] Shelley's poem.

I met a traveller from an antique land, 

Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone 

Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand, 

Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown, 

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, 

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read 

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, 

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed; 

And on the pedestal, these words appear: 

My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings; 

Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair! 

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay 

Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare 

The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

And this weekend, two hundred years later, archaeologists from Egypt and Germany have found another ruined statue in the mud of a Cairo slum - and believe this too is a representation of Ozymandias!

“I announce the big discovery of a colossus of a king, most probably Ramses II, made out of quartzite,” the antiquities minister, Khaled al-Anani, said at the site of the discovery. 

Not many people nowadays have heard of either the ruler Ozymandias, or Shelley's sonnet of that name. Even fewer are aware of poor old Horace Smith and his sonnet [with its 'gigantic leg']

In Egypt's sandy silence, all alone,
Stands a gigantic Leg, which far off throws
The only shadow that the Desert knows:—
"I am great OZYMANDIAS," saith the stone,
"The King of Kings; this mighty City shows
"The wonders of my hand."— The City's gone,—
Nought but the Leg remaining to disclose
The site of this forgotten Babylon.
We wonder,—and some Hunter may express
Wonder like ours, when thro' the wilderness
Where London stood, holding the Wolf in chace,
He meets some fragment huge, and stops to guess
What powerful but unrecorded race
Once dwelt in that annihilated place

...all human pride and power eventually crumbles into dust. As a Christian, I am glad my trust is in the true King of Kings - our WWDP service last Friday ended with this hymn

So be it, Lord; Thy throne shall never,
Like earth's proud empires, pass away:
But stand, and rule, and grow for ever,
Till all Thy creatures own Thy sway.

A reminder to ensure we find our real treasure in eternal things.

Burning Issues

For the first time in my life, I am living in a home which has a heated towel rail in the bathroom. It's so lovely to step out of the shower and swathe myself in yards of warm fluffy bathsheet. Ours is quite a simple one, just two uprights and two cross pieces. Others are much more elaborate.

My friend, in her nineties, has one like this. In her little ensuite, it is positioned between the loo and the door [the only available section of wall space]
She usually sits on the loo seat to dry herself off after her shower. 
Her daughter was concerned- the towel rail can get surprisingly hot sometimes, and she was worried her Mum might burn herself - or maybe grab it for support, then jump back in surprise at the heat, and fall.

Solution, make 'sleeves' for the rails, using towelling and velcro. My friend gave me a suitable towel, and after some careful measuring and geometrical calculations, I cut out the pieces [the remnant left was barely big enough to make a facecloth! I was careful to use the existing hems where I could, and finished other raw edges with zigzag stitch. 

 And now it is in place, I hope it will make the bathroom a safer place for this bright and sprightly old lady, who is always such a bright and cheerful member of our congregation at church.

It was suggested I should patent this idea! Not doing that - but I am sharing this idea, in case it is of use to anyone else!
The side sleeves each have 3 strips of velcro - 5cm at top and bottom, and a 20cm strip between the two panels of rails. That's proved sufficient to keep things in place. There is still room to hang towels on the rails.

Ooh, Err Missus

It's 25 years since this comedian died - and last Monday was the centenary of his birth. But I put this picture here because of his little catchphrase.
Liz posted me a picture of the yogurt she saw in Waitrose yesterday

It is one of their new 'savoury' vegetable yogurts.

And my first question [believe me, I have many more about this yogurt!] is how is one expected to pronounce turmeric these days?
Nowadays, Jamie and co seem to be united in saying
t-ooh-meric
In my youth, when it was just occasionally mentioned by Delia and TV cooks of an earlier generation, it was always
t-err-meric
I looked it up in my Oxford English Dictionary and carefully deciphered the pronunciation guide. 
That uses the symbol З: which is err [as in 'her'] my case rests!
But it doesn't answer my next question - who on earth decided that veg yogurts would be the next foodie trend? Here is the new range just introduced into Waitrose recently. 

According to their website; The versatility of vegetables is continuing to be a hot topic as products including juices and even desserts have undergone a veggie makeover. And following this, Waitrose has introduced four new innovative yogurt flavours which include butternut squash, avocado, carrot and beetroot...
The yogurts themselves are nothing short of delicious and the addition of vegetables enhances the flavour as well as texture. The Kiwi, Avocado and Matcha Tea Yogurt boasts a creaminess from the avocado and the Apple, Carrot, Beetroot and Ginger Yogurt has a zing from the ginger. The Pineapple, Butternut Squash and Turmeric has warmth from the turmeric and finally the Carrot, Mango and Guarana has additional sweetness from the carrot, making them a great introduction to vegetable blends. 

Clearly, if you wanty 'creaminess, warmth, zing and sweetness,' this is the way forward! Last week, Thrifty Lesley posted her recipe for savoury yogurts made with sundried tomatoes, and she gave them a definite thumbs up. I usually like TL's recipes, but when I mentioned the idea to Bob at the time, he said "They sound like some of Jamie's salad dressings". I do see what he means.

Third question - carrot, mango and guarana ...guarana is that Brazilian bean with more than twice the amount of a caffeine as a coffee bean. Steph explained that to me after her trip to São Paolo in 2005. [Initially I was confusing it with guano - that's not something you want in your yogurt] Do you really want that much stimulus [or is it a neglible amount, just a gimmick?]

Finally - I have read a fair bit recently that turmeric [however you choose to pronounce it] is said to be helpful for people suffering with arthritis pain. My physiotherapist mentioned it when I saw her about my knee just before Christmas. I have been slinging the odd spoonful into my cooking - mainly to make my rice golden and my curries more interesting, and to give added flavour to steamed 'cauliflower rice' [which I really enjoy but Bob regards as pointless] So I'm just asking - do any of you use turmeric to help with arthritis pain? In what form do you take it? and does it appear to be helping?

Back to the Waitrose Website - There is currently a need for more Vitamin D in our diets to keep bones, teeth and muscles healthy and these yogurts are a great way to start bridging the gap as one serving contains almost a fifth of your daily recommended allowance.

Clearly these veg yogurts are deemed to have health benefits all round. But at 69p for 125g, I shan't be rushing out to buy them. Perhaps I'll take a leaf out of TL's book and try creating my own. If they taste awful on their own, I can always serve them as a salad dressing - or as a dip with crudités!!

A Dark Horse, Indeed

dark horse [noun, usually singular ] a person who keeps their interests and ideas secret, especially someone who has a surprising ability or skill.

Last week on World Book Day, somebody on FB was advertising a Literary Map of Britain. It was not one I had seen before [and now I cannot find it again!] but what fascinated me was the dark horse galloping across Norfolk.That can't be right, I thought to myself. Norfolk?? Anna Sewell who wrote Black Beauty lived in Brighton didn't she? I remember a family holiday there when somebody told me that her family had moved there, to live in North Street after Anna became ill following an accident when her ankle was severely injured. 

So of course, I just had to check this out - if AS had Norfolk connections, how come I'd missed that? Dad read the book with me when I was in Primary School [before we moved to East Anglia] I fetched my copy down from the shelf. It is 82 years old, and one of my treasures. It was a prize Dad received from church

YWL stands for 'Young Worshipper's League' - this was a sort of Sunday School which met early, before church - and Dad was presented with this as a prize when he was 11.

Black Beauty was originally printed by Jarrolds [of Norwich] in 1877, and Anna wrote it for adults, as a protest about the appalling treatment of horses in Victorian times - not as a pleasant little children's story book!

I knew about Anna's protest - Dad had told me that much, as we pored over the story of this lovely horse and his friend Ginger, and looked at the lovely colour prints dotted between the thick, creamy, slightly foxed pages. These illustrations are the ones commissioned by Jarrold's in 1916 from the celebrated animal artist Cecil Aldin

But somehow I have got through the past 50 years with this book and never really known much about the author.

Anna was born in Norfolk, near Yarmouth in March 1820. Her parents were Quakers. Unfortunately her father was swindled by a business colleague, and financial difficulties beset the family for many years-  they moved to Dalston in London, for about 10 years. Whilst there, Mary, Anna's mother, began writing children's stories as a way of supplementing the family income. Isaac had a couple more major financial disasters, but worse was to come - Anna tripped and fell as she ran home from school. This was to leave her disabled for the remainder of her life - mainly because the doctors who treated her made the condition worse not better.

Isaac obtained a post as Manager of a bank in Brighton,  believing the sea air would help Anna to feel better, and they stayed in Sussex for many years. Her brother Phillip grew up and returned to Norfolk, where his grandparents lived. He was a civil engineer, but then gave that up and went into Gurney's Bank [another Quaker enterprise, run by Elizabeth Fry's family] Anna and her parents visited frequently. Philip and his wife Sarah had 7 children, and were guardians of a family of 7 orphans! 

When Sarah died, at 46, whilst her children were still young, Anna and her parents moved back to Norwich, renting a house from Phillip. Anna's leg injury meant she could barely walk, and so went everywhere in horse drawn carriages. She was greatly concerned to see how badly treated horses were, especially the ones owned by the Hansom Cab drivers. Also, she was disturbed by the popularity of the 'bearing rein' . This strap forced the horses head down, creating an arch - it was thought to appear elegant , but caused great discomfort and respiratory problems for the animals. Furthermore, working horses were working every day. Anna believed that as part of God's creation, they deserved their Sabbath Rest as much as their owners.

At the age of 51, confined to her sofa in Norwich, she began writing what she called her 'little book', entitled "Black Beauty - the autobiography of a horse". The tale was told from the point of view of the horse [it is believed that her brother's beautiful mare 'Black Bess' was part of her inspiration] 

It was published [by Jarrolds of Norwich] in 1877 and took Britain by storm. 

People realised how thoughtless and cruel their attitude had been - bearing reins disappeared almost overnight. The RSPCA [founded 50 years before] was quick to recommend this book to a nation which was becoming more aware of the need to care for animals properly.

In the first 125 years since its publication, more than 50 million copies were sold [that's the same number of sales as the WHOLE of the Dickens oeuvre!]

This unassuming, almost housebound, spinster, truly was a dark horse - her writings had a phenomenal impact.

Sadly she died within a year of publication, and did not see the effects of her work. She was buried with her Quaker forebears in Lammas, just outside Norwich.

Her old home[now Grade 2 listed, and called "Anna Sewell House" ] is in Spixworth, near Norwich. 

Phillip is buried alongside his grandparents at Buxton. He bequeathed part of his estate to become 'Sewell Park' for the benefit of the citizens of Norwich. In 1917 one of his daughters put a drinking trough outside,in memory of her aunt and her sister  "This fountain was placed here by Ada Sewell, in memory of her aunt Anna Sewell authoress of Black Beauty and of her sister Edith Sewell, two lovers of animals"

The trough is now planted with flowers [there aren't so many working horses needing a drink there anymore] It's amazing that seeing a picture a horse in Norfolk set me galloping across the internet to find out more. "I suppose" said Bob, "that this means we will have to go on a Sewell Trail next time we're on holiday in Norfolk"  

Yes, dear, I suspect we will...