Cinnamon

Subtitle: Fairy lights and cake do a happy woman make.

The weather today has been vile. We were woken this morning at 5 am by the sound of wind blowing and something hitting our roof. I feared broken tiles and expected to come down to a scene of devastation but thankfully everything is standing. Battered by high winds, but standing. This morning's gales and driving rain has now been replaced by freezing temperatures, a biting wind and the occasional shower of sleet. It's time to get cosy.

Thank goodness for fairy lights and cake. On Tuesday, I went to the post office to collect a parcel - a set of lights very kindly sent to me by Cable and Cotton, in Cinnamon. They are just lovely. I think it was luck that I received this particular set, but the colours are very me. You all know I love Cable and Cotton - we have a set I bought a couple of years ago in Devon hanging in our lounge and another in Bella's bedroom. I think their mix and match approach to colour is inspired, and that their lights look as good lit as unlit.

I couldn't think where to hang them at first and spent a happy time wandering around the house with them, draping them here and there over headboards, banisters and mantles. I decided in the end to display them in a glass globe-style vase which I half filled with baubles, then then piled in the lights. This works well as the lights reflect off the shiny surfaces of the baubles and vase, creating the impression that there are more in there than there really are.

But the lights had to go somewhere where we spend a lot of time, where they could be appreciated: the dining room. We have a sideboard in this room which is more dumping ground than display space, and usually holds the radio, a laptop or two, sticker books, clutter and anything that you don't know where to put. You can see a horrible photo of it below.

I decided to make it pretty and festive and added candles and some favourite Christmas decorations, things I never tire of looking at. It says to me "Christmas is coming" in a slightly camp and not very minimalist way, which makes me very happy indeed.

And, to be honest, when I hear the word "cinnamon", straight away I think "bake". I can't help it, it's like a reflex. 

Cinnamon, cloves, ginger, nutmeg, allspice - they appear so often in recipes at this time of year. I think I used most of those spices in my Christmas cakes. 

So, in honour of my new lights, and to chase away that rainy day, cooped up feeling, I made Gooey Cinnamon Squares from Deb Perelman's The Smitten Kitchen Cookbook. Don't be deceived by the photo - I know it just looks like a brown square, but this is a moist, sticky, crunchy-on-top piece of sweet cinnamon heaven. 

I've mainly tried the baking recipes from this book and have made this one about seven times. I feel like the book was worth buying for this recipe alone.*

And now it's dark so early, we can see how pretty the lights look in the evenings.

*There are many links to this recipe available online if you type "Gooey Cinnamon Squares" into a search engine but they are all the US version, ie. cups and ounces. If you want a UK version (in grams) I guess you have to buy the book.

Christmas Gifts: Treat-Filled Jars

Oh my, this last week has been busy. Yesterday and today were busy. Tomorrow, and the day after that, and every day now until we break up for the Christmas holidays on Friday 20th December, will be the same. I've given in to it. Life is full and rich and I wouldn't have it any other way, but I am starting to get the feeling that I'm living in an anxiety dream and I've gone to the supermarket in my underwear. I've still got lots of Christmas presents to make...seven in fact. I am worrying that they will not be done. I have a birthday party to plan from scratch and carry out, cakes, balloons and party bags and all the other things. Christmas cards to write, presents still to buy. It's time to write a Really Good List.

So today, in a free half hour between coming back from the post office and going to help in school for the afternoon, I made these little gifts. You might think it a silly use of my time but activity like this relaxes me. Other might meditate, but I put the kettle on, turn on the radio and make something. It was a pleasing task in that it required very little time or skill, but looks pretty and festive, and cost very little - about £1 per jar I would guess.

You need:

Jam jars - the sort that contain pesto are just the right shape and size.

Small plastic deer, one for each jar. I bought these.

Ribbon - any colours but I opted to match the sweets.

Sweets to fill the jars.

I chose to spray my jar lids white as I had some white spray paint in the garage left over from various crafty things last summer. I then glued the deer to the lids with a glue gun as I didn't think PVA glue would secure them well enough, then filled the jar with sweets, tied a ribbon around it and called it an emergency Christmas present. 

I filled three jars with red, white and green jelly beans. I bought a huge box a few weeks ago, ate all the pink, orange and yellow sweets and saved the rest for these jars. I used marshmallows and chocolate coins for the others. 

I especially love the look of the shiny wrapped coins.

It was good to spend a moment doing this. A small job done. I haven't even had time to bring the Christmas boxes down from the loft yet - the only Christmas decorating I've done is hang the advent calendar. I'll make a start this week. How about you? Have you started to decorate you home yet? Are you busy too? This time of year - it's crazy but I do love it.

Winter Beach

There is something about the beach when it's cold. I love to be by the sea whatever the weather or season, but when it's cold and bright - and often much less busy - it's particularly beautiful. 

We spent the weekend back home on the south coast to celebrate my mum's birthday. A big number, although she wasn't keen on us constantly mentioning it. She didn't want a big party or a fancy meal, just all the family together. We went for a walk on the beach on Saturday morning. It was perfect - the weather was cold but the sun shone and the sea was a flat calm, there was hardly a breath of wind. It clouded over after a while, creating that strange and dramatic light that comes with dark clouds and bright, low sunshine. I was happy snapping away - it's not a particularly beautiful stretch of coastline, but it's mine and I love it. After our walk we had hot chocolate and cake at the beach hut and Bella and Angus ran around with their cousins, building sandcastles and playing football. It was really nice. Then we had a big, long lunch at my parent's house, with my sisters and I, partners, children. The house was noisy and full, and family and neighbours dropped in throughout the afternoon. It was a lot of driving for one weekend - ten hours in the car in total - but worth it to be there with everyone.

*****************************************************

Thank you so much for your comments on yesterday's post. It was so comforting to know that I am not alone in my desire for a little luxury, a little something extra. No-one's life or home is perfect, we are all juggling this and that, choosing between A and B, and just doing the best we can. I forget that sometimes. And thank you for your concern and kind words about the job situation, it's tough out there! But there are a few things in the pipeline, nothing definite but very promising so we are hopeful. Skint, but hopeful. 

A Wish List

John and I used to have a favourite conversation which went something along the lines of "What shall we do with the money when we win the lottery?" I'm sure you've had similar conversations yourself. We don't actually buy lottery tickets, we never have, but we enjoy those conversations. They entertain us. (I would buy a flint farm house in West Sussex with an AGA and a walled garden, then open up a shop in a pretty town selling books, homewares, cake, yarn, all sorts of lovely things. It wouldn't matter if it made no profit as I'd have all that lottery money.)

Now we have a different conversation. It goes: "What shall we buy when John has a job?" The answers vary depending on which one of us you ask. John wishes for an Xbox One and a new TV, even though our current TV seems to be perfectly fine and quite big enough as far as I can tell. (We have a battle in this house where John is constantly campaigning for a larger TV and me a smaller one.) Anyway, my wish list is more practical these days. I'd like a new tumble dryer. I don't care what make so long as it dries our clothes. Actually, some new clothes would be nice. I've been coveting that chevron jumper (6) for some time and I desperately need to buy some essentials like underwear, vests and t-shirts. We need new bedding. Our five year old white duvet covers from The White Company have actual holes in them and we could really do with replacing them. I'd like a change from plain white and this bright and happy Rhododendron patterned set by Orla Kiely would be just perfect. (1).

We would like to book a holiday for next year - nowhere fancy, just a week somewhere in the UK - and would love a Sonos sound system (3). But the thing we constantly talk about at the moment is an armchair for the living room. We have a lovely sofa, it's very comfortable and roomy enough for the four of us, but it's not very sociable for when people come over and you want to chat. We currently have two armchairs in the room, both of which were budget purchases bought some years ago because we just really needed a chair but didn't have any money, and neither of which are at all comfortable. Useful, yes, comfortable no; they don't say snuggle up in me with your crochet and linger. Which is shame as they are right by the radiator and the window which makes a good spot for lingering and crocheting. It's cold. I want a chair that is wide enough so that I can tuck my feet up under me and take a few cushions too, and a blanket for good measure. I want to be cosy. But it must look nice. I am in genuinely in love with this Habitat armchair (5). I kind of forgot about Habitat for a while when the Leeds branch closed but now our local Homebase stocks their products they are back on my radar. They have arm chairs, reclining chairs should you wish to recline, cuddle chairs (best name ever!)  swivel chairs should you wish to swivel (the kids would never be off that...) And since it's a wish list, I'll add in some fripperies: I can't honestly say that we need more cushions but if we did I rather like this one by Donna Wilson (4) and this dala horse print (2) would look very jolly and cheerful on the walls this winter.

I am thankful that we have enough money to eat, heat our house and buy essentials, but sometimes I just really want a bit of retail therapy, you know? Some pretty things. Go ahead, judge me. Tell me, do you have a wish list? What's on it?

This post is in collaboration with Homebase. But we really do need a new chair and this really is my wishlist.

The Colour Collaborative: November - Fading

Back in early September, in the very last weeks of summer, I picked a small posy of flowers from the garden and brought them into the house; sweet peas, geraniums, some pinks and lobelia, and one lone sunflower. They sat in their little green vase on the coffee table for about a week, the colours lifting my spirits every time I looked at them.

The sweet peas were the first to wilt, then the sunflower. But I couldn't bring myself to throw them out, not just yet. I moved them so that they sat on top of the chest of drawers in the corner of the room and there they stayed.

I knew that this was the last posy of flowers I would pick from the garden this year, and I didn't want to part with them just yet. Also, I was really curious to see how long those geraniums would last! Ages, it would appear.

Four weeks, it took, for the geranium leaves to drop. They clung on to their colour until the very end. Even at their most droopy and withered I think there is something beautiful and confetti-like about their small, papery petals.

Around the same time I clipped and brought inside a rhododendron bloom of the most delicious deep shade of pink. How I love these flowers! We planted a small bush the summer before last but it is proving slow to establish and has only produced a handful of blooms. 

It took a few weeks to dry out and fade.

It reminds me of sepia photographs, suggesting a memory or feeling of colour, rather than showing us the real thing.

I picked another bloom at the same time, which had already started to lost it's colour while still attached to the plant. It is quite silvery-grey now, while the other has retained some pink.

Together with the dried alium head, these two rhododendron blooms have formed my mantle piece display through this autumn, giving me a memory of summer, of the long-ago colours and heat we experienced. 

I'm still not tired of them and think they are spectacular in their white vases against the grey wall.

But on Sunday advent begins and I will be removing these flowers and welcoming in December with colour, lots of colour. I am looking forward to it, but I will be a little sad to say goodbye to these calm, restful autumn colours. Faded, yes, but still beautiful. 

Don't forget to visit the other Colour Collaborative blogs for more of this month's posts, including three from November's guest bloggers, just click on the links below ...

          Sandra at Cherry Heart          Annie at Knitsofacto          Nina at Tabiboo 

Alex at Lola Nova          Lori at Lori Times Five          Madelief at Madelief

What is The Colour Collaborative? All creative bloggers make stuff, gather stuff, shape stuff, and share stuff. Mostly they work on their own, but what happens when a group of them work together? Is a creative collaboration greater than the sum of its parts? We think so and we hope you will too. We'll each be offering our own monthly take on a colour related theme, and hoping that in combination our ideas will encourage us, and perhaps you, to think about colour in new ways.

Domestic Bliss

Ok, not quite bliss exactly, more domestic pleasures. This morning I found myself with an empty diary and a few hours at home, but also a very long mental list of housework, errands to be run and jobs to be done. I decided that, rather than resent these tasks, I would make the effort to pause and notice small domestic achievements, to celebrate those small triumphs over dust and dirt. I will never be the sort of person who has an empty ironing basket (and our tumble dryer just broke so there is washing draped all over the house which I hate). Don't ever look in my oven or hope to find anything in the under-stairs cupboard. But sometimes, when you step off the domestic treadmill for just a moment, there is so much pleasure to be found in tackling a dusty corner and turning it into something fresh, pretty and welcoming.

Simple pleasures like clearing away all the clutter from my bedside table; old magazines, last month's book club title, dirty cups...

...and replacing it with a plant and a scented candle. I bought this plant yesterday in the supermarket for £1.50. I can't remember what it's called but, since I have banned myself from buying fresh flowers these last few months, found I was craving the idea of having some fresh, living greenery in the house. Pine cones and feathers weren't going to cut it.

Simple pleasures like changing the sheets and a freshly made up bed.

Like replenishing the fruit bowl and using up the old, wrinkled apples that no-one wants to eat by turning them into Dutch apple cake.

Like using my washcloth, crocheted last night from all the cotton yarn scraps left over from my Christmas gifts, and enjoying using something I made for myself.

Like re-stocking the cake tins with my friend Jennifer's recipe for Magic Cookie Bars. I used the cup method for measuring out ingredients, which was a first for me. They are good.

Small domestic pleasures are there when you look for them. Hiding under the washing, usually. But they are there.