Cold Snaps & Hot Dinners

Winter finally happened this past weekend - four consecutive frosty mornings & just below freezing nights.  Granted, in reality the night time temperatures dipping below freezing is about average for the time of year, but after such a mild (albeit damp & dull) December, it came as a bit of a shock.  Though not as much as the shock & horror when I dug out my alpaca wool wristwarmers/fingerless glove & found that clothes moths had made a meal of the right hand one.  (Also found they'd sampled a needlefelted model of a Balwen sheep I'd had for years without a sniff of them.  That's it the freezer in case there are grubs hidden deep inside that need killing off).

Of course this was the week I finally got round to booking a haircut, and to prove how much we've been hoodwinked by the so far mild winter, every customer in the hairdressers was clutching a hot drink, & every time the door to the street opened, every member of staff warmed their hands with a quick blast from their hairdryer.  Even the shop's dog - a long haired Chihuahua - had burrowed down deep into a pile of towels & blankets instead of keeping watch of the comings and goings outside.  But I'm back to feeling sleek & neat, if only above the neck.

The cold spell had been preceded midweek by Storm Brendan, which may not have caused anywhere as much of a problem as it did elsewhere, but it spelled the end for a large conifer tree on the road near the lake, and the mini greenhouse where my broad bean seedlings were housed took a sideways swipe, sending them crashing to the floor.  Despite initially looking like I was going to have to follow the instructions from the Wartime Weekend Gardener for the third week of January & sow a second batch, they had all survived - just needed the seed compost topping up and they were fine. 

The bulbs in the front garden are flowering away still.  The little Pauline irises that did so well last year that I decided to plant twice as many this year are in full flow - again a good three or four weeks in advance of last year.  Hopefully this variety will be available next Autumn too, unlike the previously stalwart Katherine Hodgkin, which seems to have disappeared from sale.  I was told at on place I looked for it that there had been a crop failure at the bulb growers, but I find it hard to believe that there would only be one source grower for such a seemingly ubiquitous variety.

Cold weather is the perfect excuse for a warming stew, so this past weekend I made a beef goulash, mixing my own combination of spices, and it lasted us three good and fortifying meals.  I've got back to meal planning lately.  Not to the point of mapping out breakfast lunch & supper for seven days just yet, but by deciding on a "big meal" for Sunday, when we both have time to prepare & cook, working backwards to decide what we need to get & do, then deciding on follow up meals for a few days.  One of the reasons I think "meatless Monday" is ill thought out is that it disregards the use of what was left from Sunday - possibly leading to more food waste.

I started with out festive meal.  As neither of us was hugely bothered this year (me miserable due to the struggles with my knee, him because he job was keeping him busy, and both of us after the disastrous election & the dreadful prospects for us & anyone not super wealthy), I didn't bother to order a bird or anything ahead of time - just the bread, as the bakers were closing for a week.  Instead, I phoned the butchers the Friday before & asked if they'd have a boneless pork joint in - they put my name on a list & I popped up there on the Monday.  I'd decided to go for a Swedish theme, having ordered a package of scandinavian food stuffs (cheese & chocolate mainly), so created a spice rub, heavy with cardamon & allspice & slathered the meat in that, covering it & letting it soak in overnight like the usual marinade.  That pork did us several meals, the final one being on New Year's Eve, when I made pyttipanna, with tiny cubes of the spiced pork and the Swedish black pudding I'd used half of to make the stuffing patties I'd serve on Christmas Day & for Boxing Day breakfast.

The first weekend of the new year, I got a boned & rolled breast of lamb.  This time I went for a North African flavour, & did a lamb & apricot tagine.  Not as adaptable as the pork in terms of leftovers, but it did us three days yet again, with the seasoning warming up day on day.

Then I did a ham hock - always a good standby at this time of year.  We stretched that to three dinners & a couple of sandwich lunches, with the last scraps going into a Dutch style pea & ham soup.  Final experiment prior to this weekend's goulash was a West African chicken & peanut stew.  That worked really well too, though I suspect my version was nowhere near as hot as the real version.  Next on my list is a Persian chicken stew -with pomegranate & crushed toasted walnuts, a traditional Polish Bigos stew.  Enjoying stepping out of the kitchen comfort zone, though there's still a time & place for a basic pasta in tomato sauce.

Remind Me - What Month Is It?

Granted, the coldest weather usually occurs late January & early February (right around Imbolc), but this does seem to have been a very mild winter, temperature wise.  A tad soggy, but nowhere near as cold as usual.  Checking back, I don't think we've woken to a frost since early December.

Even so, I was a little taken aback by how enthusiastically some of the Spring bulbs I have in pots in the front garden were sprouting.  I'd planned on augmenting, or even replanting some of those containers, but even by late November there was too much growth in them to disturb.  Have had to rustle up a few extra containers for this past Autumn's bulb purchases.  Still, it means a bit of successional planting, and I can move things in & out of sight as they flower & go over.

So this past week,  I checked things over, and saw that the pot of February Gold were all in bud - one of which opened midweek.  Given Wednesday was a dry, reasonably sunny day, I roped Howard in & we got some work done at the front.  Cut back the ornamental grass which was taking over the Belfast sink.  I plan to lift & divide that, replanting clumps elsewhere in the garden & allotment, with some at the front in a container all to itself that can be moved to hide whatever is an eyesore at any give time of year.

With that done, we set about pruning the clematis - again a month ahead of usual.  That  plant has survived being lifted from the old allotment, living in a bin bag as a pot for a while before being sunk into the classic modern house soil - solid clay & builders' rubble.  Yet it always tries to outwit me by budding & coming into growth before I can prune it for the new year.  Well I thought this year would be different, but barely into the second week of the year, a few buds had burst further along the plant than I wanted to prune it back to.  Well, I cut it back to where I needed it to be and it can regrow and catch up in due course.

Oh - and my Cephalaria gigantea (flowering time - June to October) has FIVE flower buds on it.  And the lovely deep, deep purple Iris reticulate Pauline has started flowering too.

Well I don't care what my established plants are doing, no way am I risking sowing any seeds just yet, outdoors or in.  (Not even in my heated propagator)

I'll just follow the Wartime Weekend Gardener's advice and lay down a thick mulch over the vegetable beds.

First Weekend of a New Decade

Trying hard to be positive with all that has happened - and may happen.

But more than ever, it's important to plough your own furrow.  I've kind of felt like this since June 2016, but after the disaster of the election result, looks like there will be nothing left to fall back on now.  So get on & look after yourself in whatever way you can, and in doing so, help others.

Finally had the MRI of my knee done just before the festive break - the one I've been asking for to identify the cause of the paid for nigh on a decade.  Now in the intervening years of walking on an injured knee,  and given my age, I've started to develop arthritis.  So I fully expect to be fobbed off with that as the reason & have to continue fighting to get something sorted that will allow me to be more mobile & in less pain (& to not wake up due to random flare-ups, etc.)

Even so, I intend to do all I can to be fit & mobile, in spite of what I have to deal with.  With Howard's help, I shall tackle the house, garden & allotment, getting them as ship-shape & productive as possible.  Have just ordered the first batch of Dalefoot seed compost (the peat free stuff made from composted wool & bracken) & have a propagator ready to plug in & put on a windowsill the cat rarely frequents to get a couple of weeks start on the more tender stuff like peppers & tomatoes.  The overwintering varieties of onions, garlic & shallots are doing nicely in pots in the mini greenhouse, as are the first batch of broad beans.  Hopefully the flood prevention works near the allotment a couple of years ago will have put an end to plots being under water at this time of year, but given how soggy things were in December, best to go the tried & tested route & plant them out in a month or so. 

Still not got all the tulips planted - that's a job for next weekend, once we've cleaned up pots we planted two or more years ago (& replanted any viable contents under fruit trees).  Feel bad that pain & unsteadiness on my feet has put me this far behind, but checking sowing & planting records, we were this late getting started the year Howard had his skin cancer op, so we should catch up.

I'm going to try to follow the Wartime Weekend Gardener book again, plus guidance from assorted Charles Dowding books & a planting by the moon book.  The recommended activities from 1942 included ordering seeds (done), planting Jerusalem Artichokes (will be dealt with next day Howard has off, along with pot cleaning & general space-making), forcing rhubarb (next time he gets over the allotment & has a suitable bucket or suchlike to hand), and finally, getting some early salad seeds started.  I want to use part of the kitchen windowsill to grow microgreens, so this would be the ideal opportunity.  But will mean no random spraying of white vinegar & bicarb sprays, and a handy step stool so I can reach them to harvest.

More stuff for the to do list then.