It Rains On Thursdays

It rains on Thursdays.

This is an incontrovertible, meteorological fact.  And I can prove it.

Once a month I go walking with a gang of friends.  Nothing arduous.  Just a few gentle miles, dogs in tow.  Our walks always fall on a Thursday, and it used to be that they were subject to the usual weather lottery that is life in Britain.  But, over the last year or so, things have changed.  No longer are Thursdays a mix of sunshine and showers, balmy breezes and howling gales.  On Thursdays, the weather is unremittingly foul. 

We’re a pretty hardy bunch.  And, like good girl scouts, we‘re always prepared.  Waterproof trousers, woolly everything, umbrellas.  But even we, forearmed and optimistic, have had to throw the towel in sometimes.  ‘Cause the towel would have been sopping wet.

So, if you’re planning a walk in the Pennines, avoid Thursdays.  Of course, it rains most other days, too.  But it ALWAYS rains on Thursdays.

White Magic

When the weather’s grizzly here, it’s grim indeed.  But when the clouds come down to earth and nestle in the valleys like snow, it’s magic.  Pure white magic.

Good Stuff (2)

A few discoveries and rediscoveries - current favourites at Dixon Hill….

Black Garlic.  Utterly different from regular garlic, this has been aged for several weeks through a careful heating and moisture process.  The cloves have a soft, velvety texture and no garlic smell or aftertaste.  As to flavour, think molasses or balsamic vinegar.  I love black garlic with soft boiled eggs….but there are a dozen other ways to use it.  Well worth trying.

Miss Austen Regrets.  This BBC film came out in 2008 whilst I was living in the States - which is presumably how I missed it.  Now I’m watching it over and over.  Olivia Williams is sensational as Jane.

Fennel tea.  Had forgotten how very good this is.

The Simple Things.  New magazine from the Molly Makes stable.  Lots of nature inspired articles and everyday pleasures.

Proper mail.  Loving these pretty fold-and-mail writing pads.  Bought mine from The Imaginarium Gallery in Haworth - favourite shop of the moment.

Toast Snood.  Winter indulgence.  A present from my generous husband.  Shall be wearing this all season long.

Where The Snails Live

This morning, a snail was crawling up the back door.  Nothing unusual there.  A couple more were clambering about the dustbin.  Par for the course.  But this afternoon….well, that was something else.

We had to move a heavy clay plant trough that’s been in situ for many years.  And there, clinging to the back of it, was an entire city of snails.  Seriously, there must have been at least a hundred.  All exquisitely marked and coloured.

I’ve never before thought of snails as sociable.  In fact, they’ve always seemed rather solitary.  Stuck to a window for days on end.  Alone.  Clearly, I was wrong.  This lot were snuggled one on top of another, their snail shells parked as close together as physically possible.  A complete snail society.

We hauled the trough to the other side of the house.  Which left me worried about that solo snail, half way up the back door.  Would he ever again find his snaily mates?

Couldn’t leave it to chance.  I unglued him from the glass and carried him down the garden.  Stuck him amongst the others.  Just hope I put him beside a sympathetic snail and not a snail he can’t stand.

Flowering Tea

If you were to come to tea at Dixon Hill right now, there’s a good chance this is what you’d be served.  A tea blossom.  My latest discovery and wild delight.

This one is a Jasmine Crown.  A pink rose bud sitting atop a ‘crown’ of white jasmine, lavender petals and silver needle green tea.  As perfectly pretty as pretty can be.  But it didn’t look remotely like that when I bought it.

The exotic little assemblage was purchased as a tightly packed ball of dull green leaves.  Stitched together by Chinese artisans.  Drop the dry bundle into near boiling water, though, and oriental magic occurs.  Over the next three minutes, the leaves and flowers unfurl in miraculous fashion.  Watching a teabag was never this much fun.

The resulting brew is subtle and delicate.  To be drunk from tiny glasses and savoured.

A spectacle for a special occasion.  Like when you come to tea!