Blueberry Oatmeal Muffins

Blueberry Oatmeal Muffins

Ingredients
1 ½ cups self-raising flour
½ cup porridge oats
¼ cup caster sugar
½ cup firmly packed brown sugar
½ cup sour cream
½ cup milk
2 eggs
2 tablespoons melted butter
1 cup fresh or frozen blueberries

pre heat oven to 400F.

Place paper baking cups into a muffin tin, or grease and flour the muffin cups. In a medium bowl mix all the ingredients except for the blueberries until flour is moistened (batter will be lumpy). Carefully fold in the blueberries.

Divide the batter evenly among muffin cups filling them about two thirds full. Sprinkle the cups with a small amount of sugar or oats.

Bake 20 to 25 minutes or until golden brown.

Immediately remove from the pan. Enjoy while still warm or wait for them to cool.

notes: Picture forthcoming. I made these muffins this morning using the ingredients I had in stock, there are many different ways to make blueberry muffins and I was quite happy with the way these turned out. Not too sweet, otherwise they would be more of a blueberry cupcake than a muffin. They have been quickly devoured by husband and son so I must have done something right. ;o)

Medieval Fayre

Been to ye olde Litchfield Medieval Market today and had a great day out, knights on horseback, jewelry stalls, ice-cream, pretty things, did I mention the jewelry? Because there were some absoloutly lovely stalls there with lots of pretties. I think I must be part magpie or something becuse I do have a profound weakness for silver jewelry, especial of the square cut gemstone variety. I tried to be stong but i couldn't and ended up buying a teardrop shaped lavender amethyst cabachon pendant, its lovely, will wear it tommorow, not that I'm doing anything tommrow as M has a wedding to shoot but thats ok I have a new precious to wear. I'm happy.

The market was fun we sat and watched our first ever punch and judy show, H thought it was hysterical for about 5 or ten minutes and then he had had enough and we wander around a little bit more, looked at the bird man collection of owls and hawks, which h though very good but informed me that he liked the zoo better when we went on thursday. The jousting was great though H got very worried at the start because the knights were walking around and didn't have their horses right away. It was very exciting and M has said we will go to Warwick castle sometime soon as its all very commercial and camp there and H will love it.

Independence Day

Happy Fourth of July!

Its that time of year again the great BBQ holiday, or in the case of my house growing up the great barbecue Holy Day! We will hopefully be having a little bit of a BBQ here later I have made a lovely citrus cake that is cooling on the counter as i type this, to be topped in whipped cream with blueberries and strawberries, red with and blue of course.

Today is the day we celebrate America's Independence from British rule. Doesn't really say a lot about an ex-pat American living smack dab in the middle of England, but it is an excuse to bake a cake, not that I really need an excuse for anything other than skipping the gym.

H has a bit of a cold today so he hasn't gone to his swimming lesson in fear that things will turn into the Exorcist and he will cough and puke up his lunch in the pool. again. Hopefully he will feel better after having a bit of a nap but right now all i can hear from him is singing and random chatter from his darkened room. So much for trying to be quite and not disturb him, I guess I'll get the vaccuume out then no more putting it off.

Also on the menu for today is Macaroni cheese, as I haven't got and Kraft mac and cheese, I will have to make do with normal chedder and some relatively orangeish red leichester that is as close as you can get to the love shade of orange that mac and cheese normally comes in.

Alys Through The Cat Flap

And here we find Alys having shot through the back door and out into this brave new world called outside. Now Starbuck, are great black lump of a cat he only uses the cat flap if he really really has to. In point of fact he will sit and wait till you do his bidding and open the door for him. Even when he goes through the flap on his own its quite a scene with a lot of pawing and nudging the flap with his nose before he squeezes his girth through the hole somewhat eel like, or perhaps like The Blob.

Alys in the other hand if we so happen to have forgotten to lock the cat flap will take a running leap and dive to freedom! So far she hasn't gone very far up the garden, its pretty safe in our yard the only place that could get a bit hairy is the neighbors with the dogs. Two Staffordshire pit bulls, I believe, is there technical name, nasty ass bastards that would shut up is what we call them.

Now growing up my parents house has always been a zoo, I love animals, have grown up on a farm, have lived on a ranch, and had innumerable cats, and dogs in my life. And never have I disliked animals more than the ones in my neighbors yard. They are just not nice looking dogs, they bark constantly, and I really don't think they are taken well care of at all. THey are kept in a shed with some hideous blue fencing to keep them to a little concrete square and they are always fighting.

I love dogs, and would have one in a heartbeat if I didn't think it would be cruel to leave it twice a year to visit my parents stateside. But these just aren't nice, I have been told that they are lovely dogs and are not the illegal sort of pit bull, but they are still pit bulls, when i would never trust. I really don's see the point in having a pet that is not part of the family. Animals have always been part of my family, and took the place of the extended family I never had growing up. It was me, my parents and various cats, dogs, ponies, and horses, the animals took the place of the grandparents and other relatives that I didn't really have.

My parents have a kennels worth of dogs, lets start with the biggest dog, Hunter (very big some sort of water dog/hunting dog but gentle as a lamb) they found him at a pet fair for an animal shelter and brought him home. Holly, (blue heeler) she was found on the side of the road near to where they live, skinny and half starved my dad took her in and she has found a place in their home. Bear the collie mix, who is quite ancient by dog standards and though he cant walk very well is still very tolerant of H. Now for the pugs, which I think are some of the nicest dogs around. First there is Stormie, the queen bee, she is half pug and half Chihuahua, so she has a temper but is a good dog, and apparently a good mouser. She came from L.A. from an adoption fair for Little Angels Pug Rescue http://www.lapr.org/welcome.html .

Then there is Ricki, he came from the flea market aptly enough, he had a tag saying he liked to wander and my dad took him back to the house near the market. On a return trip to the flea market my parents found him wandering around again and very thin, they tried to take him back to his owners but no one was there so they took him home and fed him and were never able to get ahold of his former people. His tag said he liked to wander which is so untrue, he follows my dad around everywhere, and if my dad goes out he will wait by the door pining for his return. Up next we have Sherman, found on Sherman Avenue of course, he was wandering around lost in the street and nearly hit by a car, he was filthy and limping, my dad stopped and asked a group of school kids if it was their dog, they said no that he had been wandering round for a few days in the area. My dad took him home and fed him and placed and add in the paper saying male pug dog found. Nobody called so Sherman became another member of the family, he adores H and follows him around when we visit.

Since last we visit my parents in Early spring they have got two more pugs, a mother and son Nico, from someone who could no longer keep them. They are all happy and healthy and well loved, and all great with H, I'm sure the new ones will be too, H can't wait to see them. They are are surrogate dogs, we only get to be with them a few weeks a year but its fun and good for H. For now we have Starbuck and Alys, and crotchety old thing that Starbuck is he would probably defect if we were to bring a puppy home Alys is more than enough trouble for him.

Key Lime Cheesecake With Coconut Biscuit Base

Key Lime Cheesecake With Coconut Biscuit Base

2 packages of cream cheese, softened
1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp. grated lime zest (2 limes)
2 Tbsp. fresh lime juice (2 limes)
1/2 tsp. vanilla
2 eggs
pie crust*
whipped cream for topping


Preheat the oven to 350°F (180 C).

Beat cream cheese, sugar, zest, lime juice and vanilla with electric mixer on medium speed until well blended.
Add the eggs and mix just until blended. Pour the cheesecake mixture into the crust.
Bake for 40 minutes or until the centre is almost set. Remove from the oven and let cool. refrigerate for 3 hours or overnight.
Top with fresh whipped cream just before serving. Store any leftover cheesecake in the refrigerator.

For the crust
12 coconut biscuits (makes roughly 1½ cups crumbs)2 tablespoons melted butter
Crush the coconut biscuits and add the melted butter. Mix well and press firmly into a lightly greased 8-inch pie pan.



I have found a new recipe for a key lime cheese cake. I have made several versions of Key lime pie before, as it is one of M's absolute favorite deserts. This one is a very simple recipe with out much fuss, and without condensed milk. M would quite happily sit with a can of the stuff but I have never been a fan. Probably something to do with having it in my tea while camping with my dad as a kid. I wouldn't recommend it. One of the other recipes I have used quite often in the past is one that is very heavy on effort, time, and gelatin, its totally gorgeous but very hard work to make. SO I'm going to attempt this cheesecake recipe, and see how things turn out in a bit, once the rain abates and I can scurry up to the co-op and get some cream cheese and biscuits to make the biscuit base. How I do miss graham crackers, but plain digestives or nice biscuits will suffice.

more to come in a bit but need to flick the coffee maker on as frizbe is here.

its still in the oven as I type this so i have no idea how it will turn out. I'll let you know as this is the first time I have ever made a baked cheesecake. The recipe I found and adapted to my own liking making it my own as it were.

THe Cheesecake turned out great very nice and dense and refreshing, and all in all it was really very quick to make, so lets hope the offer is still on for half price cream cheese. Next time I will try a No Bake Recipe perhaps something with fresh raspberries or peaches.

Strawberry Vanilla Cupcakes

I have been in the icing sugar again as you can clearly see from the above image of a very yummy vanilla cupcake with a strawberry on top. I have been baking because I singned up for a cupcake competition on www.mumsnet.com the teme is summer and songs the picture I entered into the contest is the one below of a ice-cream shaped cupcake. Basically a cupcake shoved into a cone with lots of butter cream icing.

Update on the mumsnet contest.

tigi on Mon 25-Jun-07 19:31:54
Overall Winner – Daemara This prize is awarded for the perfection of the solitary cake seen at the end of Daemars’s photographic album. It is seen with a swirl of icing with a succulent strawberry dropped on top. The symmetry of the image is a marvel to behold. The judge was bowled over with delight and ecstasy to see the absolute perfection of Daemara’s cake. Completely perfect and 100% round, sat in the case proudly, with no excess dollops or slops of icing sugar or sweeties to be seen. A marvellous specimen that makes me very proud indeed to be a member of the WI. Daemara will receive automatic entry to the ‘All England Cupcake Championships’ to be held in the Blackpool Ballroom on 1 April 2008. All spectators welcome (subject to £20 entry fee and smart dress code to be adhered to – no flipflops accepted into the the pimms and champagne reception tent). To summarise, the cake is a perfect shape in perfect proportion, with a simple effective swirl of creamy icing, with a perfect strawberry. A perfect cake, and it tasted delicious too.

Thats me I won I won... I know its only online but I won and I am totally stoked. Big thanks to Tigi for her Judging, and everone else from http://www.mumsnet.com/ that participated. The pictures for all the cakes can be located here: http://www.picturetrail.com/mncupcakes . Daemara = Meridian Ariel.

Cupcakes for Everyone!

Dream a Little Meme of Me

WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
no not really, but I suppose you could say I was named after a month
WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
A few tears the other moning when I bunt myself on the pan while making pancakes
DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
I'm left handed so thats pretty much a no, a whenever I write I tend to smudge it and make a big mess, my typing skills aren't much better.
WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
either pepperoni or roast beef
DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
Yes, just the one two if you count my husband
IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
I don't think I quite hate myself enough to actually not be friends with myself.
DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT?
I wouldn't say alot but its always lurking around somewhere
DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?
Yes, thank you very much, and I get some lovely throat infections every year.
WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
f*** no, thats just stupid, I really don't see the need to jump head first at the ground. We all have to die sometime but I prefer not to go splat willingly.
WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?
Cheerios, though Captain Crunch was my favorite as a kid
DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
Don't actually have any shoes with laces at the moment my trainers (sneakers) died an agonising death and all the rest of my shoes are girly without laces
DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG?
I can be very storng at times, usually when I need to be strong for other people
WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?
Coffee or Black Cherry
WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
As I'm a bit crap on the old eye contact thing my gaze tends to be a bit shifty and notice everything, hair, shoes, eyebrows,
RED OR PINK?
Purple
WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?
Body wise, my stomach and stretch marks, internally my lack of self-confidence
WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST?
Meg my best friend from High School, we chat but I haven't seen her in person for five long years. Get your ass to England Meg!
WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?
Black trousers and bare toes
WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?
toast with black cherry jam and a latte made by my loving husband
WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
The Joker and the Thief by Wolfmother
IF YOU WHERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
Mauve
FAVORITE SMELLS?
roses in the garden, lilac blossoms, tomato plants, lime, cake batter, the smell of antiques
WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
M my husband
FAVORITE SPORTS?
yeah I never really got the whole watching sports thing, boring.
HAIR COLOR?
dark brown
EYE COLOR?
dark brown.
DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
no coke bottles.
FAVORITE FOOD?
Vietnamese, Thai, Italian, Mexican, Greek,
SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
Probably scary movies, none of that Grudge crap, I hate that, but happy ending fluff movies get on my nerves I prefer sci-fi
LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
The Black Dhalia, pretty good but a bit convalouted
WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?
a purple tank top and a black sweater
SUMMER OR WINTER?
Autumn, Otober is my favorite month, and Halloween my favorite holiday, crisp autumn
HUGS OR KISSES?
both
FAVORITE DESSERT?
Whipped cream and raspberries, or coffee ice-cream orreally good very dark dark chocolate
MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
Meg
LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
Gin
WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
Several actually For a few Deamons More by Kim Harrison
WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
don't have one, if I did the kitten would just sit on it
WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON T.V. LAST NIGHT?
Criminal Minds and House on sky+
FAVORITE SOUND?
M's laugh, he sounds just like mutly from the great race cartoon thingy.
ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?
I guess the Stones as the beatles tend to get on my nearves
WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME?
Rome, Italy
DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?
erm besides the vast amounts of useless information stored in my brain
WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
New York State
WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK?
anyones, I think there are onyl about 3 people who actually visit here.

Feel free to copy and play along.

Huntress (a Drabble)

Drabble From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
A drabble is an extremely short work of fiction exactly one hundred words in length, although the term is often misused to indicate a short story of less than 1000 words. The purpose of the drabble is brevity and to test the author's ability to express interesting and meaningful ideas in an extremely confined space. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drabble


The moon and stars glimmer in the pool of night blackened water. Leaves dance in a caress of foul wind carrying the scent of fire, cloying smoke, burnt flesh, the bitter tang of metal, the taint and filth of humanity. The smell of death. Twigs snap and branches break, echoing in the forest, and the pool is invaded by men, bloodstained warriors all. They drink of the water, muddying it with the blood and gore of battle. Filling the night with raucous laughter, course words and the clinking of coins. Green eyes blaze fire in the dark. The Huntress awakens.

The House of Green

I seem to have underestimated my ability to not kill off the seeds I planted, because they have all turned into rather large plants in the greenhouse. I have tried somewhat successfully to unload some of the tomatoes, and courgette plants on pretty much everyone I could convinced that they needed them, I even gave a few to my neighbours, see I'm very nice, but still they keep growing, and I'm quickly running out of space for them. I have taken most of the courgette (zucchini) and pumpkins out to be planted in the flower boarder, between the rose bushes, or should i say rose sticks after they got trampled by the work men putting up the new fence. I'm not happy about that they destroyed my best rose, not that I really did anything to the roses but they were pretty and smelled nice and now the bush is no more. sigh

Anyway things are all growing beyond my skills to tame them and I really haven't got the heart to let perfectly good plants die. On the other hand I'm quite confused as to how everything is doing so well in the garden but my houseplants never seem to last very long before giving up the ghost as it were. I'll have to see if I can sucker anyone else into taking one of the left over tomato plants as they are desperate for bigger pots and compost which i havent got, and even more desperate for space, which there is none.

Apparently I have green thumbs, I just haven't a clue what I'm doing.

Pumpkin Flower

Peas

Homesick for Americana

Today I have been looking through some pictures stored on my phone and the picture here is one of thoses. The building is This big Fruit and Antique mall in Thorpe, Washington on the I90, you can hardly miss it, looking at the pictue makes me smile though as H thinks its great becuse they have apples, candy, and lots of clocks that his pappy might like. Its one of the places we stop on the drive from Seattle to Coure D Alene , Id where my parents live. The drive is 5 hours more or less depending on potty, coffee and food stops.

I have been talking to my friend Meg*, on messenger a few times and I think thats made me feel rather homesick for the states, and California specifically, though I do like Seattle, and Idaho is georgeous and very friendly, but with talking to my best friend since high school and looking up some classmates on http://www.classmates.com/ I have been missing the bread.

Sourdough bread that is, as if there is any other, and the bagels from the bagel store, and most of all I miss hanging around with Meg, We used to have this movie ritual, I'm not sure M ever really got it when we tried to explain, but we would always go see films together, mostly sci-fi at that, and into the movie we would sneek not bottles of pop or candy, but giant sized fruit smoothies, some sort of raspberry concoction for me, and something tropical for Meg. On one occasion to a matinee for some forgettable movie we snuck in some Chinese. Orange Chicken and noodles to be exact from the panda express at Santa Rosa Plaza Mall. The movie was B but we had fun eating Chinese in the theater and talking over the bad dialogue. We were also the only ones in the theater so we didn't get caught. Oh the hours spent sitting in the upper floor of the down town barns and nobles coveting books and watching the people down below.

Hopefully next year we will drag H along to Cali, and show him all my old haunts. Bodega Bay, the Larkspur ferry, Pier 39, Sonoma and its wineries and the little coffee garden Cafe, Mary's Pizza Shack, Down town Petaluma all the old favorites that I have dragged M around in the past. I think because I was so sick durring my pregnacy with H that I never really got to say goodbye to Northern California because I missed out on the trip we were supposed to take to help my parents move to Idaho, I never got to have that one last look around, that last bit of salty air from bodega bay, and the best fish and chips in the world. Oh well next year then, H will be four and old enough to remember it all.

P.S. Meg if you are reading this get off your ass and get that passport and come visit me! ;o)

Ghost in the Hall

I have been toying with nostalgia today, I have visited classmates.com and registered with my high school graduation class. Looking up a few names from a deliberately forgotten time. Lets face facts high school is hell, pure and simple, with a few bright spots more or less, but we were all condemned to walk the halls.

I wasn't a popular kid, mind you despite my four-eyed status I like to think that I wasn't a complete loser, my grades were good enough but I wasn't some complete ass kisser. I wasn't the member of a clique, and there were cliques, Montgomery High being just as cliched as any other high school. I had a few close friends but mostly I was a ghost in the hall just trying to be noticed and not fit in. I was never one with the in crowd, I could never be I didn't drive a bmw to school I didn't have all the trendy clothes, we weren't poor well most of the time we weren't I just couldn't give a damn about clothes or fitting in.

I was more of the apathetic sort of student, I would probably been a goth if it didn't require so much effort. As it was I did seem to wear quite a lot of black, but eyeliner wasn't me. I'm not even sure if any of my past classmates would recall me, just another brown haired, brown eyed, average ghost. I can't think what would be worse not being remembered at all or being remembered for all the wrong reasons. I tried to avoid the pitfalls of student life, and tried to get on with things, sure I probably missed out on a lot of things but there isn't really anything that I regret really, I have always been a bit shy and reserved but I still managed to make friends with some rather cleaver people. As for the rest of the school well there are a lot of people that I don't miss and hope that grew beyond what they once were, and if not well karma's a bitch and I hope they get bitten on the ass.

I e-mailed a few people from the past and will wait and see if anyone remembers me, or if I trully was just a ghost in the hall.

At the Movies

this week M and I went to see Pirates of the Muddied Plot III. You know what I mean, Johnny Depp was gloriously I on top form, Rush was great but I found myself being let down buy the amount of double crossing, superfluous clutter and plot content that appears to have been thrown in just for good measure. And quite disappointed by the Disney ending, Leaving Keira of the pouty lips to wait ten years for Will's return, ten years of what twiddling her thumbs and going back to her home, its gone, her father, dead, to being a lady? not gonna happen while limp will goes off ferrying souls about to the afterlife, with his heart cut out, and is now immortal. What I love fantasy and sci-fi but this is just a bit slapdash. And although I didn't stay to see the bit after the credits my friend assures me it is an over the top and incredibly cheesy scene that she would rather of not had to sit through. In this last scene there is Keira standing on the clifftop with a 9 year old boy watching the boat sail away. Honestly

Perhaps I'm turning into a cynic.. it was still a good movie held together by captain jack but I think it needed a hell of a lot more editing and reworking of the storyline a bit especially the ending. Speaking of less than a thrilling time at the movies a few weeks ago we went to see Spiderman III, yet another case of third outing in a trilogy gone a bit haywire. It got lots of complaints about too many characters, which is not my beef about it. The thing I hated was strutting and dancing scenes, I was ready to walk out, I hate hate hate cringe inducing scenes like that and had to hide my face in my hands, which M took much glee at as he loves to watch me squirm when I am faced with watching people making total fools of themselves.

In short when they come out on dvd I don't think i'll be making a purchase. by all means go and see the films for yourself and make your own decision but don't say you haven't been warned.

Unwritten Words

I can feel them floating about in my mind whispering to me in the quite hours of the night when everyone else is asleep. Words and images thoughts desires dreams and nightmares, burning brightly behind my closed lids. Words that vanish and hideaway in the dark recesses of my mind when I sit down and try to write. Its not writers block, more shy thoughts hiding away from the possibility of being written.

I sit here with time free to devote to writing and everything that whispered in the back of my thoughts, all those voices that tease and laugh have fallen silent, their characters cannot be written, thoughts remain untamed unshared, alone in the darkness, imprisoned in my mind fearing the freedom of being written.

Enough of the waxing unlyrical, perhaps I've had too much coffee this morning. Or maybe just not enough. When ever I sit down with a little time to put fingers to keys, pen to paper it all just goes grey. The house is mostly clean, the boy is asleep, the kitten is purring in my lap and all the things I want to write are teasingly out of reach. A few slender strings to grasp but nothing to pull out into the open. I think I will go do some drawing instead and forget all about my good intentions to write something well I am in fact writing this but blogging wasn't what I meant. Though I have actually written more on this blog then I ever got on many failed attempts to write a diary or journal, Samuel Pepys I am not. http://www.pepysdiary.com/

I need chocolate.

A Piece of Cake

I was going to do some baking today, but as we haven't done the shopping I'm a bit limited on ingredients, I have no eggs, no butter, no milk, no vanilla. So there will be no cake unless I fetch some ingredients from town after going to the gym later as I intend to do having not been for over a week and a half. Due to being shattered from camping, H being miserable with a cold then passing it on to me so I have been miserable with a cold and unable to do anything but whimper a bit on the sofa.

But I'm all better now, cue dramatic coughing fit, no really I am just a bit of a sore throat but I always get that, bad tonsils you know. After gym then its time to drag H to his swim lesson so he can throw fits of god awfulness, followed by terrible cheekiness in equil measure, then floods of hysterics at being asked to jump into water that he can touch his toes to the bottom of the pool. Meanwhile I stand there clutching my offering of coins or chocolate as his reward for just getting on with it and doing as his instructors bid him to. But at least he hasn't puked in the pool for a while, that was such a proud moment.

So now that I have been on about sick, back to the cake rack as it were. If I can be bothered I might get a few things from the co-op to feed my baking obsession, I need milk anyway to feed my coffee cravings so its only fair really. I have a recipe for a lemon drizzle cake but was considering making it into a lime one as I prefer lime with possibly a creamcheese icing. mmm

or I might just buy some vicounts and save cake baking for tommrow when H can help (hinder) and then I have somone to clean out the batter bowl besides me. I can share gracefully.

What the Doormouse Said

Alys has been living with us for a week now and has settled into the family home pretty well in my opinion. M is absoloulty enchanted with her, having never been witness to the antics of kittens, which are a hell of a lot more intresting that a hamster going round and round a wheel, and they are quite cute I suppose in there own up all night while you try to sleep sort of way. I don't really get along too well with rodents, a friends of mine used to love rats, I never got that retched creatures enough of them in the world that you just don't need them for a pet. Guinea pigs, well they say that they are a delicacy in the andies, I can't say I would ever try it but I'm pretty sure that about all they are good for as the only thing I have ever know is to be bitten by one that was suposedly very friendly.

I did have a rabbit once, the cat ate it. Well I got blamed for leaving the cage open, which I did not, and one of that cats got it and well ate it. Had a hamster once too, it was awake all night bit people for no reason even though was handled properly, it had babies then ate them for no reason (no one touched them or messed with anything she just had them one night and the next night she ate all but one. Cheerful story teller aren't I? Don't let me get started on my animal tales of woe, or we will be here all week. Anyway cats are good, dogs are good, rodents are for rodent traps. Yeah yeah I know I'm evil and not giving rodentia a fair trial. and what about the capybera and there are always ferrets, and what about the. I say my cat will eat your rats, well Starbuck would at least give it the cold shoulder and Alys is probably smaller than a rat still but she might squeek at it a bit, and she terrorizes toy mice at least.

Apple Upside-Down Cake

I was meant to make some banana bread yesterday with some rather old bananas that were lurking in the back of the fruit bowl, but on further inspection they were black beyond use. Well at least to me, I actually prefer my bananas bordering on green. I didn't have any nuts either so I really wasn't doing very well on the banana bread front. I did however have four apples that needed using, and as I really don't like making pastry all that much decided to make an apple cake of the upside- down variety. I know it has a lovely french name but beyond bonjour and fromage my french is severely lacking, I blame it on the California school system, I took Spanish instead. So anyway the following is the recipe I came up with after searching the net and finding a few recipes that didn't seem quite right so I adapted what I found and remade it into this recipe which turned out rather yummy in the end. Word of warning don't leave it too long before turning it over otherwise it will stick to the cake tin!


Apple Upside-Down Cake

½ cup butter
½ cup caster sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
1½ cups self-raising flour
½ cup milk
2 to 4 firm-fleshed apples (granny smiths are best)
1/2 cup butter (melted)
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1/2 cup light brown sugar (or caster sugar if you prefer)

Preheat the oven at 300 F
In a large bowl cream the butter and the sugar together. Add the eggs one at a time. Add half of the self-raising flour, then half of the milk and the vanilla. Add the remainder of the flour followed by the remaining milk and beat till well blended.

Melt the butter in 13x9x2" baking pan in the oven while pre-heating, remove and sprinkle with the cinnamon and sugar mixture. Pare, quarter, and slice the apples thin. Spread in an over-lapping layer on the bottom of the baking dish . Pour the cake mixture over the apples. The batter will be thick and may need to be smoothed on top with a knife.

Bake at 300° to 325° F. for 45 minutes. Until the cake is golden brown on top and springy to the touch. Leave on a wire rack to cool for 5 minutes. Loosen the sides of the cake with a knife , Cover the cake with a large serving dish or baking tray and turn it out carefully, upside down.Best served warm with custard, or vanilla ice cream.

© Meridian Ariel 2007 - all rights reserved

Go Ask Alys

Where was I? oh yes camping, now my definition of camping is based on the only camping I did as I child growing up in the golden state. My dad and I, not my mother she did not DO camping, would drive across cali and up into the sierra mountains we would park the car load up the backpacks the gold pan the sluice , and the food bucket. Several hours of walking down twisty turny trails with a sheer drop off to one side before you got to the campsite at the river. Time spent wrestling with the tent making a fire and some sort of food before dropping off to sleep. We didn't leave till the food was gone as it was an incredibly steep walk back up the mountainside to get to the car. We brought the dogs with us and my dad taught me how to pan for gold, the water was clean but the fish were poisoned by mercury, so no fishing but to throw them back in. The mercury was from all those years of people looking for gold, it being the place of the gold rush and all. We saw a bear once and then there was the time that our dog Sophie saved me from a rattlesnake, good times all. That's my idea of camping, the only running water is the river, and the little outhouse had a nice bucket of lye to sprinkle down the hole. Oh and there were lots of nice interesting bits of discarded gold rush equipment scattered about in their rust coloured glory.

Camping this weekend was nothing like that. Don't get me wrong it was lovely, save for what I shall call the febreeze incident. It was my first trip to Wales, and it was beautiful, while my friend and I struggled with her new enormous tent figuring out how to put it up the kids argued among themselves. The campsite was lovely lots of trees near some sand dunes fresh running water, and minutes drive from town. And my friend assures me that the local pizza place, and the chinese deliver to the campsite. H has a ball running around between the tents while we sort out some tea and await more arrivals to the site after a slapdash trip around the local tesco's to stock up on various tinned pasta for the kids, sausages, bacon, all manner of goodies needed for the bank holiday weekend.

Then Frizbe pulls some kit out for me. Kit? you say what sort of kit, well this wasn't just any sort of camping expedition this is camping with a purpose you see my friend and her husband run a live action role play company and this is one of there excursions. And where do I fit in, well I was to be a lady pirate, Minerva Swan. Pleased to make you acquaintance. Argh Hoist the mainsail and all that. The only role play I have ever done is about 8 or 10 years ago on WBS (long may it rest in peace) and that is nothing like finding your self in the woods dressed in a frilly pirate shirt with a replica pistol and a bunch of thesp types running around words and accents flowing from their lips like breathing. It was good fun, H loved running around with fake swords, and pistols, I had fun but I felt absolutely abysmal at play acting. It was great fun to watch but damn I just couldn't seem to open my mouth to play along, to shy I guess, my brain was going like a hamster running frantic in a wheel, just any of these thoughts running crazily through my mind seemed to stop before they could reach my tongue.

Mostly I busied myself with keeping the kids happy and feeding them and reading countless stories, making endless cups of coffee for Frizbe and me, pottering about the campsite. I think the best bit of roleplaying I did was being an unnamed vampire to give a message to a group of pirates to come meet my mistress the Countessa (my friend playing a vampire) I was totally petrified I'd garble it up but I think i did ok there, god I'm such a wuss.

IT was good fun though and I think we would go again if invited, the only downside was the rain on Sunday, and we just ditched everyone to go have some lunch at an Welsh Italian ice-cream and coffee cafe and then off to a soft play place to tire the kids out. M came down on Monday for the day to bring us back and have a look around, and he forgot to bring a camera, what sort of photographer forgets to bring a camera?

We did bring out souvenir back with us, you see near to the campsite there was a little house with a sign saying they did cream teas, and below the sign there was one saying "Kittens free to good home". So how could I resist? cream teas and kittens totally sold, and they were the sweetest little kittens and we just had to have one, Frizbe was forbidden but as M wasn't there...

So that's how we came to bring a little welsh kitten home, now she needed a name and I searched through a baby name book that was floating about the house and found the name Alys, the welsh form of Alice, and asked the kitten if she liked that as her name, she started to purr so we took that as a yes. So welcome to the family Alys.

Dolphins

So the other day we are in a camping store looking at air mattresses. the woman behind the counter asks the following.

Woman: "Are you going camping then?"
Me: "yes this weekend." Isn't it obvious as I'm looking at camping things in a camping store?
H: "We're going camping in Dolphins we are!"
Me and the woman: "Dolphins?
then it clicked.
Me: "He means Wales." cue much laughter and H going all shy and embarrassed.
H: "Silly me I got it wrong." said into the material of my jacket.

so then we went camping in wales.

As if anything is ever that simple....

Half Baked Cupcakes

Meridian Cupcakes hasn't got very far on becoming reality yet, but Frizbe has challenged me to make some by the end of the week and tout them to a few local cafes which I'm dreading doing because I am so not out going and chatty person and she is. I wish I could be more like that but I have always been a more reserved type and chatty and selling has never been my stock in trade. I'm not really the tortured artist type either, basically I'm a scaredy cat worrier. But I do want to try, honestly I'm jealous of people who do that easy going, life's a breeze everyone is your friend thing because I really struggle with coming out of my shell and sharing my thoughts and ideas with the world at large. of selling my personality and ideas.

Here its easy it always has been to spew out whatever random thought comes to mind and then let pretty much nobody read it because to be honest I don't think anyone much has read what I have written here. Its detachment I guess because I can say things here that I would choke on in the real world. Like in the good old days of WBS, for those of you in the know, although I made lasting friendships there, hell that's where I met M, and one of my best friends in the world (ahem Miss Bronwyn please stand up) but if I wasn't hidden across the wires then I don't know if I would have ever befriended them in the first place. I think I'm waffling a bit here and have gotten off topic a little bit. or a lot for that matter, but anyway I have an assignment so I best complete it before being dragged off to Wales, but that's another story for another post.

Homity Pie

The following recipe is for my take on the classic English dish. Served in one of H's favorite places Caldwell's Mill near Chatsworth.


Homity Pie Recipe

Ingredients:

Pastry for a pie
¾ lb. potatoes (or enough to make roughly a pan of mashed potatoes)
2 large onions
3 tbsp. oil
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar (optional)
2 tablespoons butter
1 cup sour cream (the traditional recipe calls for a few tablespoons of milk)
1 cup cheddar cheese, grated
2 garlic cloves, crushed
salt and pepper to taste
Oregano
First either make the pastry or buy it ready made and roll it out and line a 9" pie plate.

Peel the potatoes and cut into small pieces then boil or steam the potatoes until tender.
Chop the onions, and fry in a pan with a sprinkle of sugar and the oil ( I also added about a teaspoon or so of balsamic vinegar).
In a large mixing bowl combine the potatoes with the onions. Add the butter, sour cream, half of the cheese, garlic, oregano and salt and pepper to taste.
Mix well then fill the pie shell and sprinkle the remainder of the cheese on top.
Bake in the oven at 425°F. for 20 minutes until the cheese is golden brown on top.

Raspberry Cream Cake

The following recipe is for one of my favorite cakes, similar to a strawberry shortcake, but with raspberries and using one of my favorite cake batter recipes. Although the picture above is not of the greatest quality the cake itself is gorgeous and a perfect summertime treat. In this instance the cake is vanilla but the next time I bake it I plan to create a lemongrass version as I think lemongrass and raspberry would compliment each other nicely.

Raspberry Cream Cake


Ingredients:
2 cups self raising flour
1 ¼ cups caster sugar
½ cup butter or margarine (softened)
3/4cup milk
1 tsp vanilla
2 eggs
1 cup Whipping cream
Powdered sugar
1 cup raspberries
Preheat the oven to 375 F
Beat the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Then add half of the flour to the butter beating well. Add half the milk and beat well then add the eggs one at a time. Add the rest of the flour then the remaining milk and the vanilla mixing till smooth, Fill a greased and floured baking pan half full ( 1 large cake tin or two smaller tins) bake for 25 to 35 minutes until golden on the top and the center springs back when gently pressed.

When the cake has cooled whip the cream and if desired fold in a small amount of icing sugar. Ice the cake with the whipping cream then place the raspberries (strawberries, blueberries whatever fruit you desire) gently onto the cream. Dust with icing sugar just before serving.

Anarchy and the Cupcake

I have been obsessively doodling cupcake related things in a notebook today, which hasn't really accomplished anything very much but has kept me busily in my cupcake dream world. I'm going to bake some tommorow morning though I haven't decided what flavours yet. But that mostly depends on whats lurking in the fridge and cupboards. Hmmm vanilla cupcakes with lemon buttercream sprinkled with blueberries, as I have one lemon and some blueberries that need using up. Any takers? will badger M into taking some pictures of one for me as the camera on my phone justs has one setting. blurry.

Frizbe says she will push me if I need pushing to do something and I suppose if doing soemthing dosent work out my husband and her's will eat all the evidence so no worries there then. as long as M dosent get ahold of the batter bowl before I've made the cupcakes that it. As for what to call this budding buisness venture, not sure about that have been combinging all sorts of things in my notebook today. Meridian Cupcakes is one of my favorites but I also quite like the blog post title I just typed in, I'll keep thinking about it and see what happens, at the very least I would like to do a little stand at H pre-school summer party. Off to daydream a little more and do some more doodles.

Ankara

The following is a short story I wrote a few years ago that I just recovered from the old laptop and had complety frogotten existed till I read it ten minutes ago. Its not the best I have ever written but I don't things its all that bad and hopefully rereading it will inspire me to write more.

Ankara

"Welcome to the beautiful city of Ankara. Gem of the Empire." Zenia muttered under her breath as the door to the cell slammed shut, the lock loudly clicking in place. She waited a moment before pushing to her feet and surveying the dank cell in the dim light from a small window in the door. She could hear the shuffling steps of the guard retreating up the long flight of stairs. " Spend the night in the exotic Palace Dungeon visited by men and women from around the Empire." Zen continued her monologue her tone dripping with acid.
"We’re going to die here aren’t we?"
" What? What sort of attitude is that? I’ve been in worse scrapes that this, this is nothing."
"When?"
"Well I was once climbing a mountain in search of my father’s lost sheep. Halfway to the top the path became very steep. I lost my footing and started to slide down the mountain to my death. I held onto an outcrop of rock, the sharp edges biting into my hands. I looked around and found that I was so high up that the clouds were below me. I could hear the sounds of the sheep bleeting somewhere above me, so up I climbed, hand over hand, higher and higher.
"All the sudden I heard a terrible howling, and upon the ledge above me stood a pack of winter starved wolves, saliva dripping from their long yellow fangs. There I was, hanging by one arm on the side of a freezing cold mountain, wondering whether or not I should leave the sheep to the wolves and climb back down to safety. As I contemplated my best route home, a hideous roar shook the mountain. Down below me on a ledge stood a giant bear.
"Imagine that. Hanging from one arm on the side of a mountain. I couldn’t climb up, because of the wolves. I couldn’t go down the mountain as the bear was waiting for me. Now have you ever heard of a worse predicament?"
"No never" Chianna exclaimed waiting patiently for Zen to finish her tail. Zen began to sort through the mouldy, louse infested straw of the dungeon cell. " Uh Zen?"
"Filthy stuff, but some of it seems to be dry. It should be better than sleeping on the cold hard stone." Zen murmured keeping her eyes from alighting on Chianna’s face as she carefully lowered herself to the straw reaching for the small dish of stale slightly mouldy bread "oh good no maggots just a bit of mould".
"Zen"
"It’s not a feast but it should be enough to fill our bellies. The water isn’t too bad either." Zen continued breaking the bread into equal halves and taking a cautious sip of the brackish water in its dented metal pitcher.
"Well?"
"Yes?" Zen looked up, absently brushing a strand of raven hair from her eyes, her face devoid of all expression. "Did you want this side of the cell?"
"The story Zen! Finish the story. What happened next?" blurted Chianna, her cheeks flushing as red as her hair in exasperation.
"Oh that"
"Yes that. How did you get down the mountain?" Chianna asked eyes flashing green fire in the dimly lit cell.
"Oh. I didn’t." She replied in a bland tone.
"What?"
"The bear ate me." Zen finished blue eyes sparkling with merriment as Chianna stared at her mouth agape before bursting into helpless laughter. "That’s better. Now remember, never give up. The only situation that could be worse is if we were dead and then nothing would matter anyway. I have been in worse circumstances than this." Zen finished, the corner of her lips twitching slightly as she bent to adjust the laces of her boot withdrawing from a hidden sheath a small deadly looking dagger. The blade gleamed in the pale yellow light shining from the barred window in the door. Now lets get some sleep. We’ll need it for whatever comes next." Zen slipped the dagger back into her boot settling herself in the straw, a small smile curving her lips as her eyes closed.

copyright 2003ish Meridian Ariel

Meridian Cupcakes

For awhile now I have been toying with the idea of selling the cakes I make but as a dreamer I find it very difficult in putting these ideas into gear and making wishful thinking into some semblance of reality. I probably need some one to either hold my hand or drag my sorry procrastinating ass kicking and screaming into the land of action, productivity, and the real world. Meanwhile I just stick my head in the sand and play the semi-domestic diva, languishing in a slightly haphazard house playing Suzie homemaker while M goes off to work everyday. Its not all chocolates and soap operas, as H is still running around half the time and even when he is at pre-school I’m still surrounded by the chaos he has left behind Like the aftermath of a toddler sized tornado.

I love to cook and bake for husband, son, family, and friends. Though I have no delusions of being a master chef, Nigella I’m not, but I guess the fat around my middle doesn’t lie! To tell the truth I’m scared that if I were to do something that it would be a complete and utter failure, as I have felt about so many things in my life. I’m afraid that I would sit there with my little cupcake stall and not sell a damn one. Which is silly I know, its that whole low self esteem issue rearing its ugly head. I keep wondering, especially now having reached 30, if I’m ever going to stop feeling like I’m some useless teenager and have some sort of self belief. Wisdom come with age but obviously 30 isn’t aged enough yet for me to feel like a grownup whatever that is.

I’ve been sitting doodling up logos for my cupcake dreams, which might just be the saddest thing or not, I don’t know if I have the courage to get out there and try to sell some, H’s nursery has a summer party with stall and the like and I said to M that my cakes, and flapjack are nicer that what was on offer last year. So I sit here and think about having a little stall to sell Meridian Cupcakes. It has a nice ring to it…maybe…somebody push me…

would you buy a cupcake from me?

Relic of a Dream

I admit that I am a dreamer more than anything else. I can cook and I can do a variety of different things but at heart really I am a dreamer and I didn’t think that was such a bad thing until yesterday when M and I were clearing out the old etch-a-sketch laptop and found hoards of old crap that I had dreamed up and wet to the wayside. One was painting and decorating those little storage boxes that they do at Ikea, and I did actually manage to sell a few but damn looking at them now makes me shudder a bit. I can’t believe I thought that was a good idea or that I actually made a bit of money off of it. Ok the cloud one isn't so bad but some of the others oh dear.

Why didn’t anyone stop me. And then we also found some pictures taken of some cards I had made, oh dear. I haven’t yet read through all the writings that I have recovered and e-mailed to myself, I need to work up the courage for that some of it will be ok, some I won’t remember at all, and some I sure will be absolutely abysmal. But I'll still keep on dreaming there has to be something good somewhere in my head the difficulty is in weeding out the bad things and dragging the good out into the light of day.

And Then There Were Three

ok this isn't terribly exciting at all but I do finally have a picture of the tri of canvases I wittered on about in earlier posts. Not much I know but they are there and the whole point of them is not the artisty but the fact that I actually was inspired to paint something so I sat down and accomlished something. Wether or not they ever get put on a wall is debatable, oh and as for the fourth one that didn't want to play with the others well that one was given out as a birthday present to a close friend who I hope enjoys it and loves it like I did, I'm just sorry I forgot to badger my hubby to take a picture of it for me. Thats what I get for not hoarding things.

Tenth Circle

Well I have been to that unholiest of unholy places IKEA, to worship at the alter of flat packed furniture. And thank the gods that I no longer work at that hellish place of tasteless Scandinavian chairs, boxes of boxes to build boxes, and don’t forget the meatballs. Anyway It wasn’t completely the tenth circle of hell, and I still like the smell of sawdust, plastic, meatballs, and coffee that permeates the store, and not to mention the cloying scent of manure that greets you as you step out of the car if you happen to be lucky enough to find parking spot without a.) getting into a shouting match at some old geezer who has parked in one of the few family spaces, without kids in toe and despite twenty million old geezer marked spots. b.) some idiot with more money then sense parking in two spaces with his sporty drop top. Though I must admit to gleefully watching said idiot later trying to fit a wardrobe in. c.) the people that make all the motions of going, i.e. putting everything in the car the jangling of keys then blithely walk off again without looking at you or saying that they aren’t going anywhere that they are just plainly f**king with you. d.) people with shiny big ass suv ‘s who park over the line. M takes great delight in parking right next to them in a normal fashion which means that I have to squeeze out and accidentally move their wing mirror, excuse me for wanting to get my share of lingonberry jam.

Mostly we went so H could look at beds, M could have meatballs and coffee, and I could wheedle the purchase of a new rug for the living room out of M. Its teal which takes some getting used to but as I said before I’m a bit enthralled with tea at the moment and as soon as we got back I repainted the canvases up on the wall to match the new rug. I’m quite pleased with them even if I did run out of paint and that left the second one slightly unfinished. I’ll get back to it honest. The Image above is of my favorite little painting that I did a week ago, again the same colour scheme but M deemed it too small for the wall so its just sitting awaiting to find a home. I'm proud of it anyway and its quite calming to look upon.

Rogue Artist and theThirtieth Year

Having abandoned all writings for the week of birthday festivities, H tearing into my presents and having too much cake, I have somehow found the time and the desire to do some painting. And no not the walls, although H’s room desperately needs repainting. I have painted a small picture for a friends birthday, and the card. I know what you are thinking and no I was NOT just being cheap, I just wanted to give her something other and the obligatory girly bubble bath/lotion/face cream. Not that there is anything wrong with that, as a matter of fact I’m a great believer in the all healing power of a bubble bath and a book or magazine. But I wanted to giver her something a bit different something that I put heart , soul, thought and imagination into. I painted a card too in disgust over the wares in the three or four card shops in town. The painting was abstract in teal, brown and turquoise, which I am currently obsessed with as I painted again last night and though far from a masterpiece of any kind its pretty and soothing to look at so I’m pleased with the result. Though I’m not sure how it turned out so tranquil as I was watching an episode of Bones at the time.


I’m out of canvas now unless I go up into the attic ( I do not do ladders) or go buy some, and availability is limited in this relatively small town, there are two shops to get canvases from, one that is expensive, and the other that is run by the quilt Nazi. Whenever I go into her craft shop she manically tries to get me to join in her coven of quilters, I have not succumbed. Partly because I can’t sew, not won’t but can not, I’d probably sew my fingers together in a sewing machine, you should see me handle a bread knife. And partly because I’m too busy trying to breathe new life into my painting and writing. Not to mention cooking, baking and housekeeping, knitting, and the colossal mountain of novels I haven’t started reading yet. All that and now I m thirty a grownup, scary thought that.

Lint flavoured Jelly Bean

I have neglected my housewifely duties today and made no cakes nor done much. I blame my poorly knee or is that my clumsiness as I twisted my knee yesterday and have been limping around the house whimpering all day with H asking if I want some medicine or a boo boo plaster (band-aid). I have now resorted to the medicinal effects of some ages old jelly beans that have been mouldering quietly to themselves in the back of the cupboard for some time. I’m almost certain the orange one moved. Probably not the worst thing I have ever eaten, considering the mass quantities of red Swedish fish, pixie-sticks, and sour gummy creatures consumed in my childhood….teen years? Erm ok I confess I do have an addiction but I keep it down to twice a year when we visit the States. Honest. The rest of the time I stick to coffee, dark chocolate and scones with jam and cream. And whatever cakes I have in the works. Oh and must not forget the holy grail of all candy the red hot tamales, well to me anyway.

Ooh look at all the pretty colours. Perhaps scavenging H’s old jelly beans was a bit of a mistake because I’m sure the one I just had tasted like lint. Perhaps it was lint, perhaps they aren’t even jelly beans but some highly evolved form of jelly bean, and I have just decimated their entire society, reduced them to a bad aftertaste and a belly full of sugary junk or fruity lint balls. I think I best go get something useful done now while the sugar rush is on!

You Know You Have a Problem...

When you knit a cover to keep your fingers from getting burned on your double tall latte, one sugar please. Actually its not mine Its the first Item I knit that wasn't a scarf. Well My husband would probably argue that it is indeed a scarf only very small with the ends sewn together. And there are buttons! I sewed buttons on and I'm just not very adept at that sort of thing, any way its cute and it did actually get used, and only took a short while to make, and it involves coffee so what could there be that's better than that?

Mmmmm coffee I could just go for one now.

Pattern? Pattern? we don't need no stinking patterns. Well actually I got the idea from a picture I saw of something similar on the Internet but it was hand sewn cloth and not knitted, but I gave it a go and was pleased with the result even if my husband thought it was funny, he still used it every time we went to Starbucks while visiting my parents in Northern Idaho.

Coconut Flapjack

This is a recipe that I have been playing around with from a very basic recipe and I am finally happy with the result, and so is everyone else as it doesn't seem to stay in the house very long before its all disappeared into happy bellies.


Coconut Flapjack
(granola bars)

2 cups porridge oats
2 tablespoons demerara sugar
2 tablespoons golden (light corn) syrup
1/2 cup butter
pinch of salt
1/2 cup dessicated coconut
1/2 cup sunflower seeds
1/2 cup raisins

1/2 cup dark chocolate melted

set the oven to 180°C/350°F/Gas Mark 4

Grease a shallow baking pan.
Put the butter, syrup and sugar into a medium sized saucepan and melt together over a very low heat, stirring with a wooden spoon. Do not let the mixture boil.
Take the pan off the heat and stir in the oats, salt, coconut, seeds, and chocolate chips, mixing everything together well.
Pour the mixture into the cake tin and press down with the back of a spoon or a plastic spatula.
Bake in the centre of the oven for 20 minutes until golden brown.
Remove the tin from the oven and allow to cool for 15 minutes. Melt the dark chocolate in the microwave and then drizzle over the flapjack. When the chocolate has cooled and set cut the flapjack into squares, but leave in the tin until completely cool before removing.

Raspberry Shortcake and Teal Paint

I’m not an artist I just play one on tv. I have painted my little canvases. Well three out of four ain’t half… um three quarters bad. The fourth one defied me and didn’t want to be anything I wanted it to be, so for now its just a smeared teal canvas. Its ok I’m fine with that the others have turned out well enough and I had fun painting them last night as I deftly avoided doing any more housework! The house is clean anyway, at least on the surface as long as nobody looks in the closet under the stairs, or in any boxes and especially not in the shed or the attic. Speaking of attics I need to go up into the dark cobwebby depths of ours to retrieve a new canvas to paint from one of the blank ones loitering in the dust up there, I don’t do ladders though so will enlist M to fetch and carry for me. I have some lovely Raspberry Shortcake to bribe him with so things should turn out to my advantage. Unless there are spiders, then I'm on my own.


As for what I’m going to do with the miniature paintings I’m not entirely sure but I think of painting as being a form of therapy, it calms and relaxes me, most of the time. Though I’m no expert or even that talented and still a bit rusty from having abandoned painting for the better part of two years or more. I’m baaaack to it with my chipped star buck’s cup full of ratty paintbrushes and a stack of disused bibs as cloths. Maybe next time I’ll crack open the oils as all my acrylics are half empty and dried out. Though there is plenty of house paint out in the shed! And I am so much better at painting canvas than painting walls, every time I paint a room I always end up absolutely covered in paint and fed up of having to scrape it off my glasses.

Somewhat Useful

Ok so I haven’t exactly painted my little canvases yet but I’m getting there I have done some sketches I’m just procrastinating at usual, but I did start knitting something new, and blue. It might be a shawl or it might be a simple poncho type of affair, I’m not really sure yet, but its definitely blue-ish. And I also did make an orange headband for my friend Frizbe to take away on her holiday to match the orange top she bought so there is a real reason behind the delay. Honest . And though its only a simple quick knit it made me feel quite happy to make it, and hopefully prove to be a somewhat useful item. I will try and invest some time into getting my husband, the photographer, to take some pictures of the bits and pieces I have been knitting and hopefully get them up here for the world to criticize. I may not knit well, or even often but at least so far I’m sticking to it and learning bit by bit. Who know one day I might knit my husband and son matching sweaters then will see who gets the last laugh!

Jane of All Trades

I have been tempted by fate, or cheapness as I have succumbed to the lure of discount book and art supply shop the works and bought a little quartet of small postcard sized canvases. I know silly purchase but its too late now, they were very cheap and now I have to do something with them. I don’t know what exactly but its got to be something. I was tempted by the muse of small canvases and now they must be painted. I’m thinking something in the realm of browns and teals as that seems to be my latest favourite colour scheme. Which all brings me to the thought that I am creative person, but seem to meander about from thing to thing without seeming to find a specific thing that I am good at that defines me. Maybe being a Jane of all trades, master of none, is my destiny, to be a little bit good at some things and not stellar at any one thing.


When I was little the only thing I ever wanted to be was:

1. A writer. I’m pretty sure this doesn’t really count but it’s a step in the direction I want to go in. I think school did have its effect on me, high school and college, as to making me feel more and more jaded about what abilities I thought I possessed. Aside from my obviously atrocious typing skills thank you. My dad instilled into me a love of books and reading which I still have and am hopefully passing on to my own child. Because of me always having my nose pressed into a book my reading comprehension and my writing skills were often advanced of my classmates, and that’s what lead me into quite a lot of trouble with one of my teachers. I was accused of plagiarising my work because it was just too advanced for my age. Complete and utter bullshit but left me with a bitter aftertaste that carried with me a long time. The last paper I wrote for her class before transferring she had to get a college professor to help her read it. Honestly no wonder the state of the American school system, mind you its not that great here either. And don’t get me started on the ass that taught English in college, or the fact that I could never ever get into any of the freaking creative writing classes anywhere! But I’ m not bitter really.

2. an archaeologist/ anthropologist as my father gave me a love of history. There was nothing I loved better than to sit and watch a history show on tv with my dad and listen to him argue with the facts. Which come to think of it didn’t help me a lot in school when I had a tendency to argue with my teachers who insisted on teaching dumbed down cherry tree sorts of history. That dream was shattered in University by the horror of having to take cultural anthropology with an incredibly pompous professor that only seem to regurgitate over and over again tales of his getting drunk with the local people of South America. I was SO not interested.

3. An artist. But very vaguely defined, I have the vision just not the real talent, at least in that respect I have always had good art teachers, and loved art history as well. I’m just not very disciplined at art or writing. My own worst enemy sort of thing, Cleaver enough to get by but a bit to cleaver for my own good and utterly unambitious and lacking in drive, and self belief. But enough rehashing of old issues for this post. For now I shall try to me a good Jane of all trades, happily baking, cooking, painting, gardening, knitting, and hopefully writing and get on with things. Its late, I’m tired and Dr. Who is on in five minutes. Which still leaves me with four little blank canvases to paint.

Rogue Knitting

As I explained earlier I have recently been learning to Knit. I can knit, purl, cast on, cast off, even make a button hole. But I am at a loss for understanding complicated patterns. I don’t know why, give me something that starts out scarf shaped and I’m fine but I just haven’t got a clue how to translate more difficult patterns into my brain. Must be a left handed thing. I will keep trying in the meantime I have been quite happy making headbands, which are probably about the simplest thing you can knit but they are fun to make and useful unlike the scarves I have made now that it is spring and warm out. Next experiment will be to attempt a hot water bottle cover, one that is a bit more complicated than a scarf sewn together. Honest. I have made an mp3 cover but again that was of my own design after googling various free patterns. And a clutch bag with a button and button hole! That I have neglected to sew the lining into yet. that’s another thing though in my semi-domesticated status, I don’t really know how to sew beyond button replacement and small holes in things, oh and up picking labels from M’s shirts, but I’m pretty sure that doesn’t count. Mind my mother didn’t really sew and my dad did all the cooking and cleaning so I don’t think I’m doing too badly.

I have a book on knitting that I am slowly reading along with several novels and magazines on the go so hopefully I will figure out how to follow a pattern soon and do some more complicated knitting of cables and things, then move onto such husband torturing devices as sweaters and hats.

Big Cook Little Cannibal

Ok there is this children’s show called Big Cook Little Cook here and my son thinks it is brilliant. The premise of the show is that these two cooks, one big one small have various characters from children’s stories visit their café, they tell a story about the character, then decide what to cook. All very well and good, teach children cooking you say, learn where various food items come from? Yes. Learn how to tidy up the kitchen? Yup. Learn how to be a cannibal? What? Oh yes on today’s very special episode the gingerbread man came to visit the café, and what do you think they chose to make for him? A nice pie? Fox shaped biscuits? No they made him some gingerbread people!

I find this very disturbing, I know a three year old might not really understand the concept. Honestly way to turn the next generation into Jeffrey Dhamer, and they say violence and sex on tv , and modern music are making kids crazy. Perhaps they should have a closer look at pre-school TV, I don’t remember the Sesame Street ever teaching cannibalism. 1 2 3 4 5 eat that man alive! 6 7 8 9 10 bring another victim over again! No I’m pretty sure I would remember that, I think I’ll just turn the music up and let H dance to some heavy metal instead.

Black Thumb Green House

I seem to be spending an inordinate amount of time in the garden clippers and trowel in hand of late. I don’t know where this has come from but I feel a bit like the Magician’s Apprentice as I seem to keep going at it trimming plants playing search and destroy against an army of invading weeds. I am not now nor have I ever been a gardener but it appears I seven years of living in England have taken their toll. Next I’ll be saying that anything over an hours drive is just too far and watching Midsomer Murders. Somebody shoot me. Its good grimy fun and god knows the garden does look better, next I’ll be talking about planting bulbs and perennials. Help me. I need a big dose of Krispy Kreme to get me though this trying time. Give me Cinnabun, give me Denny’s, IHOP and all things good and American turn me back from this path I have strayed. I knew we should have got rid of that greenhouse, It all started with one rather sickly tomato plant two years ago and now its seeds sown, soil turned, trees trimmed, weeding sorted. It’s a very dark green affair, courgette, tomatoes, pumpkin, and peppers all sprouting happily. I just have one question why do all my house plants die?

Devil With a Blue Apron On

Tales of a Semi-Domestic Diva

Perhaps it’s the knitting that did it, or the baking or even the gardening. I think I’m being turned into a semi-domestic diva! I did always like to cook though so that doesn’t count towards my emanate domesticity or does it? My father is to blame for my cooking, He is one of the best cooks I have ever known and I was always in the kitchen with him from before I could talk, and probably walk for that matter. My mother does not cook, she does seasonal baking, the reheating of leftovers, and the ordering of pizza. As my dad’s galley slave I learned more than just how to boil water, I learned the real basics of cooking, not the measuring and fussy things, just real good food and ingredients, a bit of this a lot of that, usually in vast quantities. The art of cooking with a wooden spoon.
Being in the kitchen makes me happy. I love to bake and cook and fiddle about with recipes to make them my own. I keep thinking about writing a cook book, but that would take some doing as aside from all my recipes for cookies and cakes which I do write down, the majority of the things I do cook are a bit more organic that that and I tend to just throw things together from vague recipes and they mostly seem to work out. Does a cook book constitute as writing a book though? Would that still be creative? Could even rope my other half into taking the pictures for it, he will easily take payment in cakes!

I have also been toying with idea of taking some cupcakes around to one of the local cafes in town. Not sure about that, a friend things it’s a good idea, well actually it was her idea, but it smacks of being out going and I have never been good at selling myself just good at making cakes apparently. That would take an awful lot of mulling over, and a lot more guts than I think I have. But it would be something that is my own, my kitchen, my cupcakes, my life sort of thing. To bake or not to bake that is the question. Or vacuum my floors, maybe I'm not so domestic after all.

Apple Pies, Chocolate Highs, and Eggs of Stone

Today is that wondrous day called Easter when all good little children wake to find deposits of chocolate eggs deposited throughout their homes and gardens. Where parents smiles are tight around the edges as the little devils tear into brightly wrapped eggs gorging on chocolate in savage abandon, eyes wild and bodies trembling as the sugar hit’s the bloodstream, Chocolate dripping from mouths, fingers covered in the broken bodies of chocolate bunnies. Whatever happened to brightly coloured boiled eggs? I guess its more of an American thing, because you just can get a hold of egg dying kits here and its very rare to find those little plastic eggs that you fill with all manner of goodies. Mind you I actually never liked to eat the boiled eggs and after several years my parents (The Easter Bunny) left me a basket with a stone egg, not edible of course but very pretty and guaranteed not to get forgotten somewhere and to fester and rot as spring turns to summer. I got candy as well, jelly beans, and pistachio nuts, and reeces peanut butter cups.

I think it’s a tradition that I will take up next year with my son, as he has ended up with indescribably huge cache of chocolate that no three year old should ever be in possession of. I think it might possible have something to do with my husband M, being a chocoholic and should in future never be allowed near Easter eggs ever again. So next year I am going to cart some egg dye back from visiting my parents in Idaho, source out a stone egg and minimize the amount of chocolate and candy. Right saying that I’m off to take my apple pie with cinnamon crumble topping out of the oven and get down to the real work of making a nice dinner, balsamic and brown sugar glazed sweet potatoes, pork chops with cider and cream, and parmesan mashed potatoes.

Killing Ivy

I admit to a love of nature and most things green, except brussel sprouts, beet greens, cabbage, and broccoli (I love it but it hates me) , but I have never quite understood the depth of devotion the English hold for pottering in the garden. I grew up with my father’s tomato plants, and the chore of watering them daily in the lovely Californian summer. Strangely that didn’t put me off eventually growing my own tomatoes in our greenhouse, but I don’t think I’m a true gardener at heart, especially after hours of trying to rid the rockery (another thing I don’t get its just a pile of dirt and rocks) of strangling ivy that had been ignored for most of the time since we moved into this house three years ago. I spent the majority of the day cutting and pulling at the ivy, plagued by spiders, assaulted by green and brown caterpillars, annoyed by hoards of slugs and snails, and one incredibly pissed off frog.

H my son thought the frog would be a great pet. H is three and a half and quickly ran to get a bucket and fill it with water, We put the frog in the bucket on a rock. The frog was so not impressed, H thought the frog was great, Till it jumped out of the swishing bucket and hopped into the path of Holly, the squashed faced demon eyed kitten from over the fence. The frog or probably toad as it was quite yellowish hopped away before the kitten could get to it and H said bye bye and went off to terrorize Holly the cat instead. In any event the ivy is as gone as its going to get and the rockery looks a lot better, cement chunks and all. I’m off to take a very deserving bubble bath and read my book.

Romancing the Dark Side

Seeing as I shall be dropping the mantle of twenty something and entering into the realm of 30 I have been thinking rather a lot of late of how my life has changed from what it was ten years ago. And especially about my battle with depression this past year. I know I know everyone is doing it. The whole scarred childhood scarred pregnancy, birth, postnatal depression, potty training, disastrously going to hell in a hand basket sort of way. Things are so much better now not just because of the drugs, and they did the job, but because I found a voice to annoy people with and admit not only to my friends and family but to myself that I was not right. I’m better now honest there is still a darkness in me, but that was always there it just got away from me for a little while and I lost control. I’m so far from perfect anything but I’m trying to be a better person, a better wife and mother, stronger and happier in myself. I still have my black days but I’m female and that is all part and parcel of the double x.

Last year had its dark days but so far this year seems to be going a lot smoother, I have started writing again, not much yet but this is a start. I am learning to knit, and becoming more green fingered in the garden instead of black, I now have seeds sown and new plants potted. I have painted.. Well I’ll get back to that. And I have been doing a lot more pottering in the kitchen so if not healthier food at least its homemade and tastes better. I hear the call of cake.

Knitting with One Needle

Hello my name is Meridianariel and I’m a knitter. Ok I admit it I have been learning how to knit for the last few months. Nothing spectacularly difficult yet the sum total of my knitting is half a dozen scarves and scarf like objects that have been made vaguely into other things. A collar for a stuffed animal dragon, a small purse with a button and an mp3 holder. Oh and a few headbands but my husband says that they are just very small scarves with the ends sewn together. Oh and I mustn’t forget my very favourite item a coffee jacket, a knitted version of those little cardboard holders that keep your fingerprints from burning off when you hold a paper cup from Starbucks. Honestly its very useful when you are as addicted to coffee as we are. Mmmm coffee
One day I will attempt a hat or sweater or actually follow a proper pattern honest for the time being though I’m happy messing about with pretty wool making simple little things while watching TV at night or waiting for my other half to bring me coffee while sitting in Starbucks. Ah the simple pleasures coffee chocolate and knitting.
Recently while visiting my parents in Idaho I lost one of my knitting needles, while shopping in Wal-Mart (head hanging in shame) and my husband took great glee in saying I was “Knitting with one needle.” equating it with being one brick short of a load or a cookie short of a dozen. Honestly my husband and my mother laughed hysterically at that, so I made them take me straight to the craft shop so I could get a new set. I was so not amused. I find knitting very relaxing and calming, except when everything goes to pot, and even then you just rip it back and start again no harm done. And they make a rather nifty weapon against evildoers.

To trek the stars... or something

In response to reading my blog my husband said two things. Thing number one “ oh no you have a blog why did you do that?” and number two “Who’s Jim.” To which I looked at him in utter disbelief and said “You’re not serious.” yes he was he didn’t have a clue I had to practically spell out star trek to him not all together sure he really understands having not grown up watching star trek, all star trek or having had a best friend who’s whole family was practically obsessed with it. But then again I am American and we do tend to get rather into our tv shows. And random quotes. Who wouldn’t want to live in star trek anyway… well perhaps one of the later ones Tea, earl grey hot. And all that. And nobody is fat and everyone is happy and utopian, and enemies are really enemies. Not that I’m a trekkie or trekker or whatever but you have got to love a bit of science fiction. it’s a cultural icon for goodness sakes.
Hmm now he is grumbling that he wants a blog.

Damn it Jim I’m a housewife not a painter!

Tonight for the first time in a very long time instead of going to the gym or vegging out in front of another episode of CSI, I dragged out the neglected remains of my painting kit. And no I don’t mean walls I mean acrylics and oils paintbrushes and a rather dinky canvas. It didn’t go very well my skills what they have diminished to are rather rusty with disuse and things took a darker cast than intended. The result is a rather disturbing little painting of a coffee cup…I think. Anyway I have entitled it “Espresso in Hell” as I think the vast quantities of caffeine imbibed today might have something to do with dusting off my paints. Whether or not I can remember any of my art lessons from school is rather debatable. Perhaps not even questionable but the important fact to me is I actually did something a small something but something creative in any event. Despite all the obstacles of a messy house screaming toddler, pottering husband, sink full of festering dishes, and a load of laundry that will probably end up left out on the line all night.

Who cares I’m on a happy high and hopefully done something to counter the atrophy of my creativity. Not only have I painted but I’m writing this so that’s two things painting and verbal diarrhoea, er um writing that’s what I meant, even if I’m the only one who reads this its still out there and it’s a start. Or this all could be something to do with the fact that turning 30 is looming over me and I am desperately trying to figure out who I am and find who I used to be besides wife and mother. Don’t get me wrong I love my family but being a stay at home mom sometimes lacks in feeling really alive and that I matter in the world, that I’m not just lurking in the shadows hiding behind being a busy homemaker.