Had I The Heaven's Embroidered Cloths...

...Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

I've loved that poem since my teens. Partly the whole "I being poor, have only my dreams" bit - which seemed wonderfully romantic to an impoverished student - but also the idea of these beautiful cloths of the heavens. I adore fabric shops - I'm not sure if Yeats, the poet, ever went into one - but if he had, he might have found them - deep blue and purple and black velvets of night, cerulean blue silks of midday, lapis lazuli taffetas  shot with gold and silver, shimmering in the summer heat, soft grey wool of autumn twilight. I can get quite carried away in a fabric shop - just drinking in the colours, feeling the textures, going all poetic, dreaming of what I could do with just half a metre of this one or that one? [I dream, but rarely buy!]

Is it any wonder that over the years I have acquired such a huge stash? Not that I have actually paid much for this stuff- generous people have given me pieces - other friends have downsized, and not wanting to send good fabric to landfill, passed it on to me. And if a garment is outgrown, or worn out, I have often saved just a remnant, it might be useful someday. And The Great Stash has been useful - for all those play costumes, Christmas Tree Projects, little bags for school activities...

On the spare beds at Cornerstones, I have my two Heritage Quilts - and I sat and talked with Rosie in the summer about all the fabrics - "Your Mummy's School Dress" "Grandad's Shirt" "Auntie Steph's Music Waistcoat"...so many memories pieced together.

But I can't take all my Stash into retirement. I got all the boxes from the loft, pruned them by about 50% and sorted the fabrics into different groups: 'proper' patchwork cottons and fat quarters, black and white fabrics, floral prints, large plain lengths, 'fancy and exotics' for costume making, etc. 

I posted in our local Facebook Sewing Group - and now the bags are labelled and lined up in the hall for people to collect

One lady is just learning to sew, and wants 'practice' fabric , another is into 'vintage' stuff, so snapped up the retro florals, a third is a patchwork fiend, and another wanted all the 'plains', one makes clothes for the children. 

And they all live within 5 miles of here. "but how can you bear to part with it?" they've said. Well, I have to - I do not have the space to keep it. All seemed so excited - a carrier bag full for just a couple of pounds. 

And I'm really happy to have shared the fabrics among this group of fellow stitchers. I no longer have all the embroidered cloths - but I still have my dreams, and I am richly blessed. [and for all that I like his poem, I still think WBYeats was a decidedly weird bloke]

 

Bringing Their Tales Behind Them

Yesterday  Sue in Suffolk asked "How many Bibles does one person need?" and posted some pictures, including one of her Sunday School prize Bible from 1968. I went scurrying off to find one of my Sunday School prizes, from 1965. I remember particularly how I received this prize-we'd moved from County Durham to Norfolk just before the SS prizegiving. I said to Mum "Will I still get my prize?" and she assured me they would post it. Then I muttered that it might be yet another Bible, and Dad said, no - I was getting Lamb's Tales. I completely misunderstood - thought it was Bo-Peep and a book of Nursery Rhymes!

When the parcel arrived [what excitement - this was before we became blasé about regular Amazon drop-offs] I was intrigued by this small blue book with gold blocked lettering. 

I learned of Charles Lamb, and his sister, Mary who lived in London and wanted to rewrite Shakespeare's work in a way which interest younger readers. And this was in 1807 - 200 years after the Bard penned his words- and almost 160 years before I was born.
I loved my little book of "Lamb's Tales From Shakespeare" - twenty of the comedies and tragedies written in a relatively accessible style. When we were doing our Great Book Cull, I insisted this little gem was kept - you never know, I may read it to Rosie or George one day...

And in the odd serendipitous way these things work out, now I've just discovered somebody else has just written a re-telling of Shakespeare for children. My great hero Michael Morpurgo! The book will be published next year.

During these strange lockdown days, The Royal Shakespeare Company have combined with MM to do performances of five of the stories. Until NEXT Monday, 18th January, you can watch and listen to MM himself, telling Twelfth Night HERE for free. They're also making the showings available free to schools over the next 5 Fridays - and on sale to the public too. [RSC site] These include signing for the deaf too.

Do check it out. I am sure MM's language will be easier for today's young people - Charles and Mary were rather fond of 'hitherto' and some of their phrases now are rather antiquated. Even in the 1960s, I remember giggling at the line "he was rudely pressing her to marry him". MM has had some flak for omitting The Merchant of Venice from his list. He says he just chose his favourite 10 tales- and MofV was not among them. His defence is here, and I for one fully accept his reasoning.

I am a passionate advocate of story-telling. It is a great way to communicate and to educate, both children and adults. Bob and I both love our bedtime internet sessions with Rosie - as does she. And I think it is good to explain 'classic' stories in a simple way when they are younger - it lays a good foundation for their reading choices later. One of our girls was aged about 6 when she went to the hatch at lunchtime to ask politely if there was any more pudding. "More?! Who do you think you are, Oliver Twist?" said the teacher on duty. I am afraid that my child turned round and smiling sweetly retorted "Children my age are too young to read Charles Dickens, Miss!" [the teacher concerned told me afterwards they struggled not to chuckle, and the story went round the staffroom]

I am not aware of any Sunday Schools doing Scripture Exams or Bible Searching Competitions nowadays. But of course we still tell them the Bible Stories.

Do day schools still have annual prizegivings and award good books in these cash-strapped days? Or are the rewards now just photocopied 'well done' certificates and extra minutes in "Golden Time" on Friday afternoons?

Did you have a favourite book as a child?

People have me asked about Ziffit, the book buying company. I've found them extremely good, the website is easy to manage - and they will come and collect the parcel of books from you- no carrying to the post office etc. The website is HERE and if you use the code IYBRCFFMI you will get £5 extra on your first trade.

Going Off My Trolley

My Permitted Exercise on Monday was a walk into Ferndown, accompanied by my Trusty Molly Trolley. She is strong, useful, and has been around for ages, rather like her owner. She's also useful in a queue - I can hold her at an angle ensuring social distancing from the woman behind me.

As I plodded along, head down, I fund myself pondering on the important questions of the day- most of which involve the Grand Downsize and Declutter.

But my mind wandered as I saw the litter left along the grass verges. By the time I got home I'd almost completely lost the plot...

Take face masks. Loads  of them. And just near the M&S Foodhall [where you  usually find such a nice people!], I saw a rather nice, clearly handmade, triple layer jobbie. It was lying sideways on the verge. I cannot believe it was deliberately cast aside. 

But it looked just like half a bra cup. And I thought about my underwear drawer. I've gone over to easy, pull on crop top underwear this past year.  I have a stash of various pretty, lacy coloured bras from days gone by which I have retained. One day I might be a 34A again [who are you kidding, Ang?] Could I recycle these bras into face masks? after all, they do come with matching coloured elastic.**

Then as I trudged on, the wind blew my hair across my face. It is 10 months since I had a haircut, and coloured my hair. I'm 'embracing the grey'.  I just passed on an unopened box of dye to a friend. But I have got two half bottles of shampoo and conditioner in the bathroom called Pro-voke. Steph did some work for the company, and they gave her samples, she passed these on to me in 2019. I'd forgotten about them.

But I ran out of conditioner, and I'd used this [in the shower] on Monday morning. I am not sure my grey was blended at all - but I was aware of the brown lather running down from my head as I showered. Thought - if this is tinting my greys, will it also give me a fake tan? Why take two bottles into the shower...

I got home, and over lunch I shared with Bob my plans to start making lacy bra facemasks, and to market an all-in-one "hair dye, shower gel, self tan" product. His unprintable response has led me to reconsider these plans.

**It turns out that a Japanese company is already doing this. I don't think I shall bother. I must bag the 'gently used' bras up and send them here. 

"I Wouldn't Change It For Anything" Says Steph

Back in June, when George was less than four weeks old, Steph was asked to write a piece for the Huffington Post. Last week, they got back to her and requested a brief follow up to be part of an article where five mums who gave birth in lockdown were asked for a word of advice to pass on to other new mums. Steph said I can print her words as a guest post here... 

 

“Having a baby is scary at the best of times, but even more so in the midst of lockdown. I was informed I had Covid halfway through labour, which was terrifying, but despite my fears, the experience was wonderful. The midwives and nurses looked after me so well, and did everything to make me comfortable and safe and I still felt like I was their priority.

“At first I felt really angry that my time to meet other mums, or introduce my baby to friends and family had been taken away, but looking back now, I realise it’s given me such a great chance to get to know my little boy, and we’ve had time together that I wouldn’t change for anything. It’s tough right now, but try to enjoy the uninterrupted newborn cuddles. It’s all your baby needs from you!” –Steph, 36, from Manchester

Steph's back at work [from home] now, and Gary is on parental leave for 3 months. It's six months since we were all together - but it helps having the internet and WhatsApp. But yes, I am longing to visit, and excited to see him trying to climb the triangle his Grandad built him for Christmas

Nature Doesn't Know Waste

I came across a brilliant story last week - and let's face it, last week was a bit short on good news. But this is all about a gifted textile artist and eco-innovator called Lakshmi Menon. I am in awe of what she has achieved in a few years- she's well known cross the subcontinent, but I think deserves far greater recognition.

In the summer of 2018, Kerala was ravaged by floods. The fishermen particularly lost their livelihoods. Lakshmi set up a campaign, "Friendship" to raise money to help them. “It’s time to repay these brave fishermen and their families by offering these saviours a ship full of gratitude - there are 230K fishermen, and 95% of the Keralans consume fish” She persuaded schoolchildren to make 36,000 paper boats to raise awareness- and raise funds.

She visited a town where sarees were woven- and saw piles of stinking, unsaleable fabrics. And came up with the idea of the Chekutty doll. [shortened from Chendamangalam Kutty which translates to the child who outlived mud. It is followed by the tagline, 'Keralam onnai thunniketti,' which means Kerala stitched it together, metaphorically relating it to the way the state emerged from the floods.

She started the Wicksdom Initiative-so people in OAP homes can make an income by rolling wicks for candles. Another project involves making disposable pens which will actually grow into trees when discarded! Then she saw a homeless family sleeping under a bridge - the baby just lying on the sand. She felt a responsibility to do something - so started another project making bedrolls from scrap fabrics.This scheme she called Shayya the Sanskrit word for mattress

And in 2020, Pandemic |Year? Lakshmi became aware that factories in India were producing thousands of items of PPE for shipment around the world - and that these factories produced a lot of waste. She also discovered that the Covid Hospitals were struggling to find mattresses for patients to lie on - because after use by a covid patient, the bedding was burned. 50,000 beds in Kerala hospitals needing mattresses. As a designer, she was aware of how much scrap was being created while tailoring PPE kits. “My grandmother always says that nature doesn’t know waste. So I always try to use the concept of upcycling in all my innovations,”  She said that the dots almost joined up by themselves.

Watch the two brief videos and be encouraged- this woman combines her technical skills and entrepreneurial spirit with a commitment to zero-waste and eco-innovation. God bless you, Lakshmi, for what you are doing to make this world a better place! Thank you

Off The Cuff Remarks

I have a blue waterproof jacket. I have had it years. Steph bought it for me when I was in a job where I spent a lot of time outside with 4 year- olds.  But the cuffs frayed, and I hemmed them , and then the zip got dodgy. It kept unzipping from the bottom - and when I got home, I had to pull it over my head to get out of it - then spent 10 minutes wriggling the zip pull back into place. Is it worth replacing the zip? said Bob. But it would be a lot of work, and the lining was starting to shred and I have another newer waterproof anyway [but that's at Cornerstones] I continued to wriggle in and out. I love this coat.

Then last weekend, I walked to the postbox, and noticed that the skip down the road had more stuff in it than previously. On top of the ripped out kitchen fittings was a jacket. No..two, three...heaps of coats. How bizarre. And they looked OK. I rang the doorbell and [stepping back, wearing my mask] politely asked if they wanted the coats.

What coats? I lifted one off to show her. She told me her son said they had cleared out a load of stuff and asked if he could he put it on the skip. The houseowner said it was probably bits her DIL and teenage grandchildren didn't want. And the charity shops are shut at the minute. I could have them if I was interested.

One of the seven garments was in fact damaged beyond reasonable repair. The rest went through the washing machine. Five were immediately passed on to CAP, to benefit needy families in this cold weather. The final one was my size [Petite, size 14 from Next] - a khaki parka - but it had very badly frayed cuffs, and a missing button. The fur trim wasn't pleasant to touch. Bob suggested I should repair it, as a replacement for my defunct navy jacket.

.

I made new facings for the cuffs from the navy fabric. I moved the top button to fill the gap on the front, and sewed a navy one on the hood. And I replaced the unpleasant scratchy fur with the lovely soft stuff from my old coat.

It fits well and is very warm. And it has the trimmings from the navy coat I have loved for so long.

Let's face it, my family is very keen on wearing parkas, particularly the Mancunian crowd [it is cold and wet up there]. And I am very pleased that all the other five warm winter jackets have not gone to waste on top of a skip of builder's rubbish. 

Early Church - Emerging Church

Hereis the link to worship from UCF this morning. Bob is beginning a series from the Book of Acts - looking at the Church as it emerges from Lockdown.

Do I Dare Do It?

It's time to find my ~word365 - the word which I hope will challenge me during the coming year. The last five years have included these - more, hope, focus, shine and inspire.

Last year my word was inspire and I reviewed that in November.

But what of this year? I prepared one of our "Advent Thought For The Day" videos and talked about Advent and adventure" [here]

When I was discussing with Bob later about my Word For The Year, he suggested that I choose "Adventure" for 2021

It's definitely a good choice- this year will be an adventure. There are two definitions in the dictionary - noun and verb

noun: an unusual, exciting, dangerous or daring experience 

verb: to engage in daring or risky activity 

I am sure that both of these are going to apply. We enter the year under lockdown covid19 conditions. Definitely unusual - and in many ways dangerous.

I do not plan to engage in risky activity when it comes to the social distancing/mask wearing/handwashing stuff. 

I will not be surprised if things happen this year which are unplanned, exciting, or require me to 'step out in faith'

In 2019, when we had our mad Welsh Anniversary Airbed Adventure, I know some of my friends here thought I was quite mad. One of them recently read my book about our 2016 French holiday on the motorbike. [Amazon/Kindle link here] She said she understands me better now, and my readiness to do apparently crazy things.

This is the year when 'formal ministry' comes to an end, we will retire to Cornerstones, and eventually be able to claim our State Pensions. That's going to be a huge adventure for both of us. Bob has now officially announced the date of his final Sunday here [April 11th]

Life's been a pretty good adventure thus far- I hope I don't drift gently into sedentary retirement, but rather continue to enjoy the exciting, unusual and maybe sometimes risky experiences. And I want to go on being daring. My grandmother taught me to sing

Dare to be a Daniel, dare to stand alone

Dare to have a purpose firm, dare to make it known,

 

Cabbages And Kings [And Puddings]

The time has come,' the Walrus said

To talk of many things:

Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax —

Of cabbages — and kings —

And why the sea is boiling hot —

And whether pigs have wings.'

 

But wait a bit,' the Oysters cried,

Before we have our chat;

For some of us are out of breath,

And all of us are fat!'

No hurry!' said the Carpenter.

They thanked him much for that..

On Wednesday evening, Bob dropped me off at Sainsburys whilst he took 3 BHF parcels to the nearby collect+ agent. This is my first supermarket shop this year. The store was very quiet - and the shelves rather empty - hardly any milk, no citrus fruit except lemons, and a distinct shortage of fresh veg. Then on Thursday I took another bhf parcel to a different collect+ agent - the little Spar shop. I came back with a bag of spuds and a cabbage. These cost more than I'd have paid in Sainsburys - but just compare them

I appreciate that supermarkets have to keep things a uniform size and need to put details of origin, barcode, date and cooking tips on the plastic bag.

But doesn't the one on the right look gorgeous - like a huge emerald rose? Those dozen outer leaves would have been hacked off and discarded at the packing station - but I shall use them in stocks and soups. They do take longer to cook, but will happily combine with mash to make a buttery dish of colcannon. Or shredded and fried, will make 'seaweed' to accompany a chinese meal.

I love the Lewis Carroll 'Walrus and Carpenter' poem. It's from Alice through the Looking-Glass. That book is much less well known than Wonderland, and has some very funny bits in it. I heard someone on the radio quoting the passage about the pudding recently.

Alice... conquered her shyness by a great effort, and cut a slice and handed it to the Red Queen.

'What impertinence!' said the Pudding. 'I wonder how you'd like it, if I were to cut a slice out of you, you creature!' It spoke in a thick, suety sort of voice, and Alice hadn't a word to say in reply: she could only sit and look at it and gasp.

'Make a remark,' said the Red Queen: 'it's ridiculous to leave all the conversation to the pudding!'

I was so amused that I copied out the RQs words and stuck them on the fridge. Thick suety sort of puddings are just the thing for this weather. But only occasionally -  or we will be like the oysters [some of us are out of breath and all of us are fat] 

I haven't mentioned Kings [or Presidents]. I have nothing to say about those in authority this week. I am just sad. 

 

Getting Rid Of Things

 Downsizing is difficult!

The Books; I love Ziffit. In 2020, I did 15 transactions, and raised £127 - that averages out at £8.50 a time. I also posted on the local 'things for sale in Ferndown' group, and sold a bag of cookbooks for £5 and another of craftbooks for £10. [These were ones which I couldn't sell on Ziffit], Bob has passed on theology books to other people in ministry, and I'm handing on teaching books to a teacher [who also had nativity costumes and a palm tree]

The Clothes: Some to charity shops - but in recent months, a lot of thick winter garments have gone to a homelessness charity in Bournemouth and also our local CAP organiser. 

The Furniture: Steph and Gary had our dining suite, when we made our brief trip to Manchester in the summer- one bed went online 

[as did the wardrobe, dressing table, and ottoman] another went to the Action4Change charity. Some smaller household items went to Prama [thank you to the guy who came out to the car and unloaded it for me!] Bob's massive vinyl collection has been decimated, using the new British Heart Foundation scheme

And lots of bits and pieces have sold on Etsy - I've deliberately kept prices low so they will sell - and so only made a £ or two on each transaction.

One of the latest departures has been Jess the Puppet - I used her a lot in Leicester, both in schools and in church, but there's been no opportunity here. I advertised her in a Baptist facebook group I'm in. I'm ridiculously happy that she has gone to Sarah, a Senco in Norfolk - and she'll go on working in church and school.

I will never be a true minimalist - but I am a WIP

 

Getting Out And About

The family is working hard to keep well - including getting out and getting fresh air when we can. Gaz and Steph have always enjoyed running - and now George is involved too, riding in his special running-buggy. Here he is smiling, after his first running trip round Chorlton on Christmas Day. I fully expect this little lad to grow up very keen on sport. Steph's FIL has set himself a challenge to walk 1200 miles in 2021 - but I suspect he will end up doing far more than that. 

Rosie too likes getting out and about - especially the seaside and the countryside. "We are not made of sugar, Grandma" she tells me, whenever I mutter about the rain in my face, or the cold wind at may back. Bob and I have been doing our best - but don't have quite the same energy levels as the younger family members. Often, by the time the important tasks are finished, it is too dark to venture outside.

We did go out on Sunday afternoon - to Slop Bog - A local Nature Reserve and SSSI with a sadly unimaginative name. As we traversed the sphagnum moss, on the well maintained boardwalk, we looked at all the cows - and I was amused to see a sign saying "Cows on Site" - they are quite big and fairly obvious. Surely nobody would mistake them for the dragonflies, lizards, frogs or woodpeckers? This is a good place to walk, and the information boards are very helpful.

Liz sent a great picture from their Sunday walk, taken shortly before Rosie ran towards the flock shouting "I'm the Queen of the Ducks!"

I understand the problems caused by ill-considered feeding of wildlife. Full marks to all those places where they make bags of appropriate duck-food available to visitors. I guess that in these complex times, that isn't possible. 

My friend Cat has been posting great pictures of her daily walks in Glasgow - and another, Glen, writes a witty little poem every morning as he walks his dog. 

How are you getting exercise? What do you miss? And what new activities have you discovered in the last year?

Magic And Sparkle

Sewing is my relaxation - especially sewing which makes other people happy. I made eight memory bears last year - but sadly the pandemic meant no play costumes were required. Steph's NCT friends all needed baby bibs, and she commissioned another one last week. So that's flying off to Manchester

But just before Christmas, something else  happened- George's cousin lost a tooth. This lovely little girl wrote a letter to the Tooth Fairy, taped the tooth to it, and left it on her pillow at bedtime. Although she had not told anyone, fortunately her Dad spotted it.

He arranged for the Tooth Fairy to write a reply and leave the appropriate reward. Mum posted a picture of the carefully written letter on Facebook. I decided such effort on this child's part merited further action. So I made her this - a tooth fairy purse, a decorated heart on one side, and her name on the other.

Then I posted it, along with a letter

I wrote - "Open Carefully, Fairy Magic and Sparkle inside" on the back of the envelope. She was delighted [and her Mum worked out who'd sent it, and messaged me]

Children are suffering enough through this difficult time. I firmly believe that little surprises like this can help them, and their hardworking parents, to make the best of these complicated days. 

On Friday Liz explained to Rosie that school would not be opening on Monday because of the germs. On Saturday she asked to do some home schooling. Liz found a secondhand school desk for her a couple of months back. I am so chuffed that when Rosie is bored she wants to do some number work - that certainly brought magic and sparkle to my day.

. 

A Post From 2016

This week four years ago, Bob and Steph were both laid low by the norovirus. I wrote a blog post about The Plague, and Quarantine. Back then, none of of could have envisaged a time when we'd all be wearing masks, and medics would be unrecognisable behind their PPE, and self-isolating would be commonplace. Here's part of that post...

The Plague Doctor Costumes looked scary but there was a lot of sense behind them, at a time when germs and infection were not properly understood. In the 17th century, it was believed that illness was transmitted by bad smells [the miasma theory] a French physician, Charles De Lorme designed this outfit.
The hat is simply the badge of the physician - you knew where someone fitted into society by their headgear - royalty had crowns, soldiers helmets, nuns wore coifs, and medics had silk hats.
The robe is sewn from leather or oilcloth to make it waterproof so nasty liquids, blood or whatever could not leach through onto the doctors skin. Underneath they usually wore a simple cotton robe.
The cane was used to indicate things or move clothing so that the doctor did not have to touch the patient and could keep his distance.
The doctor wore gloves for his hands, round spectacles to protect his eyes - and most importantly the beaked mask. This was made of bone, and the tip was a primitive respirator, filled with mint, spices and aromatics, camphor, dried roses and carnations, and a vinegar sponge. Lorme wrote that the mask had a "nose half a foot long, shaped like a beak, filled with perfume with only two holes, one on each side near the nostrils, but that can suffice to breathe and to carry along with the air one breathes the impression of the drugs enclosed further along in the beak" The sight of a man like this [always men!] on the streets put the fear of death into people [understandably] and he was often nicknamed 'Dr Beaky'. 

 A poem of the time says

As may be seen on picture here,
In Rome the doctors do appear,
When to their patients they are called,
In places by the plague appalled,
Their hats and cloaks, of fashion new,
Are made of oilcloth, dark of hue,
Their caps with glasses are designed,
Their bills with antidotes all lined,
That foulsome air may do no harm,
Nor cause the doctor man alarm,
The staff in hand must serve to show
Their noble trade where'er they go

And as for quarantine - the word comes from 'quarantine sanitaire' - the enforced 40 days of isolation of a ship before passengers could go ashore during the time of the Black Death. In the system of maritime signal flags, plain yellow indicated the letter Q - hence this choice of colour for a warning flag. Nowadays ships fly a black and yellow flag if there is disease on board, and a plain yellow flag indicates they believe themselves free of illness and are requesting an inspection and clearance to disembark. The wisdom of separation during illness has been recognised since Old Testament times [see the book of Leviticus] and the  people of Eyam back in 1665 probably saved many lives by their self sacrificial actions. Typhoid Mary, however went about spreading germs willy-nilly, and thousands died because of that.

I wrote that four years ago. I never dreamed this would be so relevant today.

Building Closed, Pastor On Holiday, But...

...Church is happening. Thank you to Arthur and the team who have produced our Sunday worship. The theme is "thankfulness, hope and optimism" Available from 7am here [and thank you Dave Walker for the cartoon]

Twixtmas

I only recently came across this term. The days between Boxing Day and New Year. And only on the final day, Dec 31st, did I encounter this graphic. I am not sure I did those things on those days- but during this past week I certainly have done all of them. 

We had fewer decorations here this year - because I'd put the tree up in Norfolk. So taking everything down and packing it did not take long at all. I washed my favourite festive tablecloth. In over twenty years, how have I never noticed before that the cloth I use for our Christmas Lunch was made in Turkey? So very appropriate, don't you think?

The Twixtmas suggestions above include help preserve the earth. Clearly my recycled card activities counts there. But here's a new one - plan a trip to the Pub. 

Specifically a Green King Pub. This chain has partnered with a plastics company, DCW Polymers., to raise money for Macmillan Cancer. You know all those plastic tubs which contained chocolates and biscuits? Well you can take them to a GK pub, and they will be recycled, and benefit the charity, I must stress that this pile are not all from this Christmas - only two of them! But I have been rationalising my craft supplies and things and those purple ones take up far too much space. There is a GK in nearby Wimborne, I'll popover when they re-open.

The bottom box originally contained cream crackers. Then I filled it with supplies for my Brexit Box - but we ended up eating them all in April, when we were in Covid19 Isolation. Brexit Means Biscits [why did I spell it wrong? It no longer seems funny]

My niece posted this clip on Facebook. It felt incredibly sad to watch- I think they should have folded it into a triangular samosa, like they do at American Funerals at Arlington.

Onwards and upwards, this is a New Year and we are going to make it better than the old one was!

Hope And Honey

Lekach, or Jewish honey cake, is a honey-sweetened cake. It is one of the symbolically significant foods traditionally eaten by Ashkenazi Jews at the Jewish holiday of Rosh Hashanah in hopes of ensuring a sweet New Year. Rosh Hashanah was back in September, but today is my New Year's Day. Liz sent me a recipe for honey cake 

Emma's Honey Cake – from Ramona Koval in Jewish Cooking, Jewish Cooks

3 eggs
1 cup (250 ml) honey
1 cup (250 ml)sugar
1 cup (250 ml) warm strong black coffee
1/2 cup (125 ml) olive oil
2¾ cups (680 ml) self-raising flour 
2 teaspoons (10 ml) vanilla extract
½ teaspoon (2 ml) ground allspice
Optional ingredients:
1 teaspoon (5 ml) ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon (5 ml) ground ginger
2 teaspoons (10 ml) whisky
Small handful slivered almonds
Small handful raisins

With a fork, beat the eggs with the honey and sugar. Add the coffee, then the oil. Continue to beat for a few minutes, then add the flour, gradually, with the remaining ingredients. Pour the batter into a 9-inch bundt tin and bake at 350F (180C /160 fan) for about an hour.

I didn't want to make a huge cake- so divided quantities by 3 and made it in my small bundt tin.Bundt means fellowship, community, or gathering of people, But there are only two of us here to mark the turn of the year!

When the Israelites travelled with Moses during the Exodus, God promised them a 'land flowing with milk and honey'. Sustenance and sweetness. And because nomads cannot be beekeepers, it also reflected their hope of being settled somewhere.

After all the awful things which have happened in 2020, I pray that in this new year, you will be blessed with all you need, and sweet surprises too - and that life will be truly more settled for all of us. 2021 - a year of hope...

.