Friends 4

7 years ago Food & Drink, Friends, Scotland

Crail: a stroll down memory lane. A quick visit to the East Neuk.

The picturesque fishing village of Crail in the East Neuk of Fife

At the time when both DD1 and DD2 were born, HunterGatherer was working on a stock farm in Fife (or 'The Kingdom of Fife', as it's often called), looking after a herd of pedigree Hereford cattle.

Those were halcyon days, and I remember with pleasure being blasted on the beach at Elie by a blustery November breeze or heading into Anstruther on a balmy summer's evening to treat ourselves to a golden, crispy fish supper from the world-renowned Anstruther Fish Bar. It was thus with slight nostalgia that I headed recently with my long-suffering gym buddy, P., back to the East Neuk of Fife for a morning of coastal walking followed by a well-earned rest (euphemism for lunch!).

Scottish sunny spells and sea: what more could a girl ask for?

We were extremely fortunate with the weather. The rain that had threatened during our hour-long drive East from Kinross to Crail was considerate enough to restrain itself for the duration of our stroll along the glorious coastal path, and the clouds and sunshine took it in turn to prevail, which made for some tempting photo opportunities.

Of course, the main benefit of going for a nice long walk is that one can then 'refuel the tank' without (too much of) a guilty conscience, so on our return to the picturesque fishing village we rapidly repaired to the Crail Harbour Gallery and Tearoom to replenish our energy levels.

Being tough country girls, we elected to sit in the tiny patio behind the Tearoom so we could overlook the sea while discussing life, the universe and which cake to choose for pudding! The only slight risk factor (as the waitress warned us, with a twinkle in her eye) was that the cream on top of their hot chocolate had been known to fly into the face of its consumers under similarly windy conditions. All the more reason to down the delicious chocolatey concoction at speed, we thought!

Our visit to the Gallery Tearoom proved a perfect way to finish our micro-visit to Fife, and we've already resolved to return next year and walk another part of the Fife coastal path. In the meantime, our photos will serve as a welcome reminder of our 2016 visit to the beautiful East Neuk.

Mind that cream! Sitting outside at the Harbour Gallery - their hot chocolate was amazing!

Lovely place to enjoy lunch in Crail

The Harbour Gallery's 'outside' tearoom: small but wonderful :-)

Inside the tearoom: a myriad of maritime miscellanea...

Lobster creels down beside the harbour

Deserted cottage by the sea

Cormorants near Crail

Rocks eroded by the sea

Sunshine sneaking through the stormy clouds

Seascape panorama from the coastal path

Waves crashing against the rocks over and over...

Quaint Crail cottage window

9 years ago 2 Comments Flora & Fauna, Friends, Wildlife

Boats, butterflies and goodbyes

"Just living is not enough," said the butterfly, "one must
have sunshine, freedom and a little flower."
~Hans Christian Andersen

An email from Amazon Kindle dropped into my inbox this week, reminding me – politely but firmly – that it has been over 30 days (shock, horror…) since I put virtual pen to paper and penned an update from the Sparrowholding. Knuckles duly rapped, I rapidly tried to remember what has been happening in our lives during the past six weeks, which was no mean feat given the daily depleting capacity of Yours Truly's middle-aged grey cells.

However, a quick flick through the photos on my ubiquitous Blackberry proved to be a propitious starting point…. First there was a metaphorical feast of photos charting my annual pilgrimage with fellow foodie L. to Crail Food Festival.

Once we'd crossed "The Kingdom" and arrived on the outskirts of Crail, we left our car in the requisite car park (aka field) and strolled along the quaint, winding streets of this charming East Neuk fishing village, dropping in at various venues to admire the panoply of local produce.

Loaves aplenty - from award-winning Barnett's Bakery

A bowl of big meringues - sweet!

As ever, there were tempting goodies on offer wherever we went: giant, squidgy TipsyMallows (or perhaps I should say "Mmmmmallows"); aromatic artisanal bread from Barnett’s Bakery; massive, melt-in-the-mouth meringues from Ardross Farm Shop; giant scones from Balgove Farm Shop; delicious dipping sauces from Trotter’s Independent Condiments; and dinky bottles of fruity vinegar from The Little Herb Farm.

Tipsy Mallows come in a range of different flavours
and colours - the raspberry ones were fab!

Scones as far as the eye can see :-)

Spice up your life - with Trotter's Condiments

Vinegars infused with flavours of fruit and herbs

Another local treat awaited us in the form of the fresh crab rolls for sale down at the harbour. We sat happily on a bench that overlooked the bobbing fishing boats, munching our rolls and chatting about everything and nothing. Idyllic. Or rather it was until the sight of a toddler tottering unfettered towards the edge of the precipitous harbour wall sent our maternal adrenaline levels into instant overdrive!

We rose, as one, to shout “stop him” and moved instinctively towards the wee toot, scared to sprint at him in case he panicked and overbalanced.

Meanwhile, his mother – who had apparently been engrossed in a particularly juicy exchange of gossip with some local pals – looked at us as if we were two middle-aged madwomen and ambled nonchalantly towards her offspring, who was still hovering precariously at the edge of the sheer drop.

At that point, L. and I had to leave the scene or we might well have said what was on our minds and become embroiled in a “parenting rage” argument. All we can hope is that she realises how close her wee boy came to a potentially fatal fall and invests soon in a set of toddler reins.

Kylie and Eck - the perfect couple... Note height from the
unprotected edge of the wall down to the waiting water...

Nothing to beat fresh crab in a fresh roll

The next event of note recorded by my trusty mobile phone was our flying visit to Oxford, in mid-June, to help our exhausted elder daughter celebrate the end of her finals. The past four years have flown by unbelievably fast, and it was somehow rather sad to think of her bidding a fond farewell to St Something’s College, where she has forged such great friendships while relishing (if that's the right word!) the long hours of academic rigour.

The dreaded "Examination Schools" in Oxford

However, daughter dear's studies are not yet over, for in September she hopes to begin a law conversion course at a new seat of learning in London, i.e. the exam stress looks set to continue for the foreseeable future...

True to the nature of the beast, DD1 had planned the parental micro-break down to the n^th detail. Day 1 saw us punting on the River Cherwell (naturally, HunterGatherer was duly handed the unwieldy pole and told to get punting!) then later we tucked into an excellent supper at The Trout in nearby Wolvercote.

HunterGatherer getting to grips with being a punter...

The pudding platter at The Trout: wowsers!

Much of Day 2 was devoted to Blenheim Palace, a local must-see which DD1 had been keen to visit for ages. The entrance fee of £60 for the car plus the three of us did rather make us gulp; however, in fairness, there was an abundance to see and do on the estate. We could probably have spent another full afternoon there and still not exhausted everything on offer, so the price wasn’t unreasonable as it transpired.

Blenheim's extensive grounds are immaculately maintained, and the palace itself is packed to the gunnels with curios and artifacts – indeed in some of the public rooms, it’s hard to see the wallpaper there are so many fabulous paintings or exhibits on show.

Sickles and scythes and much much more!

Together with DD1’s Uni friend G, we first boarded the charming little train that trundles its way across to the aptly named Pleasure Gardens. Having devoured our pre-purchased M&S sandwiches at one of the family picnic tables there, next we perused the display of antique farming tools and implements (taking plenty of photos for Farmpa!) before being seriously wowed by the incredibly attractive incumbents of the Butterfly Enclosure.

With a little gentle encouragement, this bold
butterfly was soon on his way

The camouflage of this butterfly is amazing...

I spent the entire visit to the Butterfly House dreading that we’d tread on one of these delicate insects, as they were wont to land on the ground at one’s feet, having no respect even for HunterGatherer’s tackety boots!

Our subsequent tour of the Palace was fascinating – it transpires Winston Churchill was born in one of the Palace bedrooms, so a whole display was dedicated to his life and association with the Marlborough family home.

For me, personally, the most moving exhibits were letters written by Churchill to his father from school and from Sandhurst. It was obvious that the young Churchill was desperate for his dear ol' dad to come and see him, and that these much-longed-for visits didn’t happen very often.

The bedroom where Winston Churchill was born

The approach to Blenheim Palace

Think of how long it would take to trim these hedges!

In the evening, we returned to the scene of our punting exploits, this time to enjoy a delicious supper at Cherwell Boat House. Sadly this lovely meal marked the end of our break in the sunny south – it was time to exchange the beautifully manicured grounds and greenhouses of Blenheim for the unkempt lawn and predominantly weed-populated polytunnel here at The Sparrowholding. Still, I suppose it gives HunterGatherer something to aspire to… ;-)

PS: Just noticed that this is the 100th Square Sparrow blogpost, so many thanks to all followers of the blog for taking the time to read my ramblings. I'm currently contemplating moving the blog across to Wordpress for logistical reasons, but will let you know when the big move takes place!

Dream starter at Cherwell Boathouse: asparagus
with quails eggs and pea'n mint mousse

9 years ago Family, Friends

Trugs, 21st Toasts, Tries and Waddling Woollies

Our two trusty trugs

The recent spate of spring-like weather (interspersed, it has to be said, with weather more reminiscent of mid-November) has inspired us to rummage around in the garden shed and unearth (metaphorically speaking, of course – eccentric we may be, but we don’t keep earth in our sheds…) various horticultural accoutrements in anticipation of getting the garden “sorted out”. Obviously, we are kidding ourselves here, as the weeds that inhabit our garden are generally more than a match for HunterGatherer and his shining hoe, but he likes to consider himself a valiant slayer of chickweed.

Seeds of hope

At least the spinach is growing well!

Nectarine bush in full bloom - Vinnie the vine looking dead!

One of my personal favourites when it comes to garden equipment is our duo of wooden trugs. Now here I have a confession to make. When we received these trusty trugs as a wedding gift (24 years ago, as you may remember if you read last month’s blog post), I wasn’t exactly smitten by them. Granted, I am very fond of wood, so I liked the feel and look of them well enough. However, in those days, I didn’t ever envisage actually using them. How wrong I was! Ironically, since we took up residence at The Sparrowholding nearly 17 years ago, they have turned out to be one of our most-used wedding gifts, regularly transporting homegrown produce from polytunnel or veggie patch to kitchen.

My favourite kitchen appliance

Another wedding gift which is still in active service nearly quarter of a century down the line is the electric orange squeezer that we received from the (then) Free Church Minister on the Isle of Mull and his lovely wife. It’s a simple wee device, but it’s so much quicker than doing the job manually. I’m a massive fan of fresh orange juice, so every time I pour the glistening orange nectar into my glass, I silently toast the donors.

Talking of toasts, we had occasion to raise a glass to DD2 a couple of weeks ago, when she popped back to the Sparrowholding during a whistle-stop visit to Scotland. I suspect that she was secretly counting the minutes till she could get on the plane back to Aix-en-Provence, where she has been spending a pleasantly warm and dry (meteorologically speaking at least…) ERASMUS exchange year.

The cosy bar at The Grouse and Claret

We seized the opportunity of her presence in the “hameland” to stage a belated celebration of her 21^st in the form of a meal for twelve at the relaxed, cosy setting of the Grouse and Claret near Kinross. A lovely, laughter-filled evening ensued, during which we were looked after impeccably by Vicki and David Futong and their team. As we chatted in the comfortable lounge over a Cava aperitif, we were treated to a fabulous array of canapés, before heading through to the dining room for a splendid repast. Our feast was finished off with an appropriately Alpine-themed cake, topped by an icing model of the birthday girl complete with skis, which was created by Celebration Station in Perth. Another slight setback for the diet, of course, but it was worth it…

Canapés in abundance... Don't mind if we do!

A mountain of cake

Just days later, DD2 shed her thermals and fled back to France where temperatures were in the mid-20s …. Meanwhile, DD1 was warming up in a slightly different fashion – for the much-anticipated clash of the Titans that is the annual Oxford vs Cambridge Women’s Rugby Blues Varsity match. HunterGatherer and I, plus my dentist sister-in-law and teenage nephew, headed down to Oxford for a weekend to watch the match (and were first treated to a very thorough and enlightening tour of the dreamy-spired city by DD1’s ever patient boyfriend). The match was a tense affair, and parental nerves were fairly frayed; however, it proved to be the dark blues’ day in the end, with the Oxford girls triumphing 17–12 (even if three of them – including ours! – were sporting black eyes).

The dark blues on the advance

Tired but happy :-)

A further exciting trip awaits later this month, as ever-thoughtful Supergran’s Xmas present to Yours Truly was a return flight to Marseilles for a long weekend, allowing me to soak up a few rays of southern French sunshine with DD2. OK, so three days won’t exactly see me bronzed and beautiful (not much chance of either, even if I stayed for three years, the truth be told…), but the prospect of not being rained upon keeps me perky on precipitation-filled days – of which there are many hereabouts…

Fortunately, I am also cheered up, even on the dreichest mornings, by the visitors to the bird feeders outside the office window. My spirits are quickly uplifted by the antics of the feathery five thousand whom we seem to be feeding on a daily basis currently. There is a strict pecking order as to who gets to eat when. The sparrows seem to rule the roost, with blue tits, coal tits, great tits, robins and yellow hammers snatching seeds slyly as soon as the sparrows’ backs are turned. With such a continuous flurry of activity, it’s a miracle I get any writing done at all!

When I’m not being distracted by things avian, the 11 things ovine in the adjacent paddock also contrive to prise my gaze away from the screen. Our Shetland breeding ewes certainly share one thing in common with Yours Truly at present, i.e. their girths are increasing with every passing day. There is, however, one major difference: hopefully most of them are carrying lambs – whereas my last “lamb” will be 19 years old next month... I do feel rather sorry for the poor girls: their pace has slowed down considerably in the past couple of weeks, and there is a lot of cumbersome waddling going on.

If HunterGatherer has calculated correctly (five months from the date he unleashed our tup/ram, Mungo, on the woolly harem) then lambing should start around the middle of April, so perhaps by the time I write my next post there may be a few additions to the (ovine branch of the) family. Will keep you posted!

Ready for some lambing action

Friends 4

Crail: a stroll down memory lane. A quick visit to the East Neuk.

Boats, butterflies and goodbyes

Trugs, 21st Toasts, Tries and Waddling Woollies

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