Hulme End 2 (600x800)We’ve not been out for a proper walk for ages, so yesterday we pulled on our boots and went out to the peak district for a wander.  Hulme End 6 (800x600)It was a funny sort of a day. Hot and muggy, bright, but with a grey overcast sky that makes taking decent photographs (for someone like me) almost impossible. I’ve made it look quite gloomy, but it wasn’t really!

We picked a route from a book of natural history rambles that we’ve had for years but never used. It was six miles, and said to allow 2 hours – we allowed more as we planned a picnic stop in the middle.

After an hour of walking uphill, I’m afraid we were hot and a little bit grumpy. The ground was dry, but had clearly been very wet and trampled by many cows, so it was like walking over craters on the surface of the moon. In one field the grass over the footpath was above waist height.

Hulme End 7 (800x600)We stopped for lunch by an abandoned cottage, and over boiled eggs and potato cakes we contemplated what it would have been like to live here, with no neighbours or roads.

Hulme End 8 (800x600)Our flasks of tea weren’t very warm (oh no!) and seeing that we still had well over two thirds of the route left, we decided to take an alternative route back to the car.

HUlme End 9 (800x600)I love this part of the country, and haven’t at all done it justice with these pictures. This is the western peak district, the white peak, and it feels somehow more friendly than th neighbouring gritstone dark peak. It’s criss crossed with dry stone walls and full of sheep, not the ‘natural’ forests of ancient times but beautiful anyway, and very much a working landscape.

Hulme End 11 (800x600)Our route took us high above the Manifold Valley, an old railway line which has a cycle trail running along the bottom. We followed a little-used path through nettles and brambles right down to the river.

Hulme End 10 (800x600)HUlme End 12 (800x600)HUlme End 13 (800x600)Hulme End 14 (800x600)By the time we got back to Hulme End, I was rather hot. We stopped at the cafe and I had what was possibly the best glass of fizzy pop I’ve ever tasted, in the glamourous surroundings of the car park.

Hulme End 15 (800x600)Only four miles, but we felt like explorers, and slept very well last night.

I wonder why walking feels so much harder than running sometimes??


radish (800x600)So many of my recent posts have been about growing food. I didn’t mean it to be that way, but it does seem to take up much of my brain these days.

This week is all about garlic. Well, that’s not strictly true. This week has mostly been about Le Tour, running, visiting jumping nephews, and four day weekends.

But there has also been more garlic around of late.

unpromising garlicThis was my garlic patch last week. A sorry sight, all dried and flopped over. I blamed myself – I planted it under a tree, where it gets little sunshine and probably even less water. In my defence I planted it in the winter, and the tree didn’t seem quite so overwhelming then, but I should have known.

A few weeks ago wind whistled through the garden and my upstanding garlic all fell down. And down it stayed. I even condescended to water it a little, but nothing would revive it.

I dug down a bit and found that it did look a little like garlic, and today I figured it wasn’t going to grow any more so I might as well use the space to kill off some other type of plants instead.

garlic 1And so I harvested the garlic. All 35 bulbs of it. Some teeny tiny little bulbs, and some that look rather more like what you’d buy in the shop, but all recognisably garlicky, in looks and in smell.

Looking back I see I planted 40 cloves, so that’s not a bad success rate for me!

Apparently it needs to be left to dry for a few days, preferably outside. My stalks are brittle and I don’t think they’ll stand up to being plaited in a pleasing fashion to hang in the kitchen, so these will have their roots and stalks chopped off and be stored in mesh bags.

Despite their unpromising looks, I’m pretty excited. This is the first thing I’ve had an actual crop of. I don’t think this is going to last us an entire year, but I’d say certainly a few months.

And most excitingly, the equivalent shop cost of all that garlic was £10.50. It’s starting to look like I might just break even in the garden after all…

elderflower cordial

elderflowers - CopyEvery year I miss elderflower time. I keep reading Fay’s post about making cordial, and when we visited last year we got to taste some of hers and it really was just marvellous, yet each year I forget until it’s too late.

Not this year though!

Although I confess it wasn’t the happy-skippy, carefree summery experience I’d imagined. I spent quite a lot of time battling with nettles and brambles and long grass, reaching and jumping to find the best flowers, and feeling very glad I was wearing trousers rather than the wafty floaty skirt I’d imagined picking elderflowers in.

IMG_4500 (800x600) - CopyI went on my way home from the community allotment, and had forgotten to take my basket (as well as a wafty skirt, I always imagined picking elderflowers with a basket…). But no, I had to make do with a pink string bag. Perfectly cheerful, although quite difficult to get elderflowers into and out of… Basket next time I think.

IMG_4501 - CopyThey really are ever so pretty. Such teeny tiny delicate flowers, and such a glorious summery smell.

IMG_4502 (800x600) - CopyI followed the same instructions as Fay, leaving out the citric acid (I didn’t have any). Having a bit of a mooch around the internet it seems there are two main ways of making elderflower cordial – you can either make a syrup with sugar and water first, then plonk your elderflowers in it, or plonk the elderflowers in water, strain, then make a syrup out of the elderflowery liquid.

I did it the first way round – boiled up sugar and water while I sorted the flowers and encouraged the beasties to leave (I did that bit in the garden). I wasn’t too particular about removing all the stems, as you can see (I much prefer low maintenance activities).

IMG_4503 (800x600) - CopyNot quite so pretty once everything was bundled into one pan together (and you can see I also followed Fay’s advice not to bother zesting the lemons first). I did add an extra lemon because I’d missed the citric acid.

I left everything soaking in the pan overnight with a teatowel over the top, intending to strain it the next day, but then I was poorly so it all got ignored for another day.

Last night I tried to strain it through the tea towel – except the weave was too small and the cordial too thick and it just sat there and wouldn’t soak through at all! I tried just an ordinary seive, which left me with cordial full of bits. Much experimentation and pouring later I had no clean tea towels left and was sticking to the floor (and the table, and my clothes) but I had three lovely bottles of shimmery, summery goodness.

elderflower cordial (800x600)(It looks much better in real life than in that picture, I promise!)

It’s FAR too sugary even for my sweet tooth, and I suspect it would have been rather better with the citric acid… I’m not sure how much I’ll drink as ordinary cordial…

Fortunately I have many other plans, and will be stirring it into my gooseberry jam, pouring it over ice cream, and drinking it with gin and tonic for a start.

Have you made elderflower cordial? How did you do it? Was it a success?

a mini adventure

IMG_4508 (800x600)This was an adventure I didn’t even realise I was going to have. An invitation to L’Eroica Britannia, and I confess I very nearly said no because I’d never heard of it and wanted to tidy up in the garden.

IMG_4509 (800x600)But I don’t often pass up the chance to go to one of Peter’s gigs, and this was in Bakewell on a sunny Sunday afternoon, and I figured if nothing else I’d get an ice cream out of it.

IMG_4513 (800x600) Well, I did get an ice cream, and a deck chair, and an afternoon of old bicycles, fabulous frocks, 1950s hairdressers, gin and fabulous moustaches.

IMG_4506 (800x600) - Copy (800x600) IMG_4510 (800x600)Such fun.

IMG_4514 - Copy (800x600)I even got to lounge in a deckchair in my summery skirt and watch the band, sandals cast off and basking in the sunshine.

IMG_4525 - Copy (800x600)Kind of made up for spending the next day off work sick with a stomach bug really…

(Don’t worry, I’m fine now!)


permaculture 5 – use and value renewable resources

Red geranuims (800x600)At the beginning of last year I started writing about each of the permaculture principles in turn. A lot of what’s written about the principles is about land use, since that’s where permaculture has its origins.

I’ve been trying to relate them to my everyday life. Having recently embarked on my own permaculture diploma, this is even more relevant.

You can read what I wrote about the first principle (observe and interact), the second (catch and store energy), third (obtain a yield), and fourth (apply self-regulation and accept feedback)

The fifth principle is use and value renewable resources. This one feels a bit more familiar than some of the others, especially to those of us used to thinking about ‘green’ things more generally.

The Permaculture Association website says

we need to understand the renewable resource we are using to ensure appropriate use, e.g. how many trees can we take from a woodland without damaging it?

A good question, and one I hope someone does know the answer to at least, even if it’s not me.

The Permaculture Principles website says

make the best use of nature’s abundance to reduce our consumptive behaviour and dependence on non-renewable resources.

It then goes on to talk about using horses for logging, and milking your own cows – commendable activities but not things I have much need for in my tiny city garden.

Now, if there was a decent use for climbing slugs, I reckon I’d be on to something.

circus slug fiend (800x600)I’ve been pondering how to think about this principle in a less land-based way, one that’s more relevant to my own life.

Energy use

The obvious thing to talk about for this principle is energy use. A few years ago we switched to a small company, Ovo, and a 100% renewable electricity tarrif (we also get our gas supply from them). I like their company ethics (and no, they didn’t pay me to say that!). Every customer automatically sponsors an acre of rainforest, they only have three straightforward tarrifs to choose from, and they have lots of simple, nifty graphics making it easy to compare your energy use to last year, or to others in similar houses. I can see, for example, that we use a lot less electricity than others, but a lot more gas – a result of our ancient inefficient boiler, no doubt, and something to work on in the future.

Green tarrifs are still a little more expensive than others, but I do strongly believe that if you’re in a position to, you should use your cash to support your principles (something I don’t always manage myself, of course, but it’s nice to have goals…).

In the home

In the home, perhaps it’s easier to think of renewable in terms of things being non-disposable. This week I’ve been making flannels (face cloths) and cleaning cloths from a couple of old towels.

Making flannels 1 (800x600)Very simple – just cut the shape out with pinking shears, fold over once and sew a seam. I suppose you don’t even need to do that if you’re using them for cleaning, but I do rather like the neatness.

Flannels 2 (800x600)It does help to have a sturdy sewing machine (mine can sew through eight layers of denim in one go and is pretty indestructible).

We don’t use paper towels any more, because we always have a fabric cloth to hand to wipe up spills and clean surfaces. I think I’ve said before, I even use cloth sanitary towels sometimes.  We’ve yet to give up plastic carrier bags completely although we really have no excuse – Fay over at The Wind and the Wellies blog hasn’t used one for six months and she’s managing just fine. That might be next on the list.

In the garden

The best example in the garden is the compost. I do buy in potting compost for seedlings and to top up containers, but mostly our soil is enriched by our own compost, made using food scraps. A useful resource from a ‘waste’ product – doesn’t get more renewable than that.

compost out (800x600)We also have two water butts that collect rain water from the roof, meaning we don’t need to use valuable tap water in the garden. This has the added benefit that more seedlings survive, as the water is already in the garden, meaning I don’t have to lug it out from the kitchen.


What I keep coming back to with these principles is that they require time and skills, both things that people often think they don’t have.

But perhaps it’s useful to think about it in terms of redistribution of time. Yes, it takes time to sit and observe before acting, but if it stops you from acting unwisely it’s time well spent. It takes time to plan meals, and cook in bulk, but this saves time (and potentially money) later, usually when it’s most needed at the end of a busy day.

As for skills, well, you can’t make your own clothes if you don’t know how to sew, and making your own clothes might not be on your agenda at all. But it’s useful to be able to repair holes in things, and that requires only basic sewing skills – threading a needle, tying a knot, having a go.

I’m often surprised at the number of people willing to help you learn. People are all over the internet, sharing their knowledge for free, and I’ll be there’s people living near you too. We now have a Repair Cafe where you can take broken things and people will help you fix them, and we also have an organisation that will hold your hand as you build your own computer from scrap!

Is there anything like a Repair Cafe near you? What do you use that’s renewable or non-disposable? Did you make it yourself?

(As an aside, I don’t know what I’m doing to my photographs lately, they all seem rather fuzzy. I’ve been resizing them as I’ve now used nearly 75% of my space for this blog, but I don’t like the blurriness. Any tips, other than a less shaky hand??)

censored slug wars

Geraniums (800x600)I’d planned to come here tonight and tell you about the endless battles with slugs in my garden, but the photographs of their misdemeanours won’t upload from my computer, so we’ll have to talk about more cheerful things instead.

(In brief, the slugs ate more than their fair share, refused to be deterred by copper, and I have therefore resorted to organic slug pellets. Fingers crossed).

In more cheerful news, the alternating rain and sunshine here means everywhere is lush and green, and I’ve been having great fun outside (while occasionally dashing inside to avoid being drenched).

On Friday a friend and I went to Hathersage outdoor swimming pool. We swam and watched the birds and the hills, and it really felt like summer. Until we got out of the (heated) pool, when it didn’t feel summery At All and we had to move hastily to a cafe for tea and cake.

Hathersage  (800x600)Our community garden is looking good, and on Sunday we hosted a shared meal. All the regulars were there, and we welcomed a family who will soon be moving here from Spain. It was great to meet them – it turns out they are both doing the permaculture diploma too, and are much further along than me, so I will no doubt be bending their ears after they’ve had time to settle in.

Parsley and Leeks (800x600)On Saturday it rained and rained, and I went to visit my diploma tutor for the first time. We talked about what I needed to do, and how often we’d meet, and chatted about our history and plans. As part of the diploma you have to produce a portfolio of ten designs, and it was really useful to look through her portfolio and see the kinds of things she included.

I’m not sure how much to share here about the diploma and my journey through it. Part of me feels it needs its own space, something devoted solely to that. But the other part of me knows this is where I write about everyday life, this is where I share pictures of what I’ve done, and to separate one thing would feel artificial. So for now I’ll write things here, and see how it feels.

The only other photograph the computer would let me upload today was this one, of some chickens at a local community farm.

Chickens at Loxley (800x600)I volunteered here a couple of years ago, and often contemplated joining, but always shied away from the responsibility of regular work days and feeding times. I still don’t think I’m ready for that yet, but I want chickens in my life soon and, without moving house, this is the best way I can see to have them.

We’ll see…

racing for life

At the endLook at us all there, beaming with our medals!

I am SO proud of us all. Me and my sister have done plenty of races, and I often write about our competitiveness, but the rest of my family are not known for their enthusiasm for athletic activity, so I was rather excited when they all decided to enter a local Race for Life.

The plan

We had a plan. We’d meet before the start and set off together. I would run with my sister (until she sprinted off at the end, of course). My mum would walk with my cousin (Emily) and my nephew Kyle (with the occasional jog for good measure). And my auntie and her friend Helen would walk together.

In the last race Kyle did, he was heard to complain ‘keep up Grandma, you’re not going fast enough!’ So this time my sister planned to walk back round the course and run with him to the end.

The goals

I wanted to finish in under 30 minutes and beat my sister. My sister wanted to beat me (of course).

Kyle wanted a shiny medal. Mum wanted to beat last year’s time of 1 hour 2 minutes. Auntie Lou and Helen, both suffering various ailments and walking with sticks, wanted to get to the end in one piece. Even now I’m not sure how Emily got roped into it.

The reality

The plan fell apart when I arrived late, and was still in the portaloo when the starting whistle went, meaning I had no idea whether everyone else was in front of me or behind.

I didn’t beat 30 minutes. It was far too hot and once I started walking I couldn’t start again.

I did beat Lorraine though (hooray!).

Sadly it wasn’t because of my athletic prowess, but rather because, finding herself still walking behind a big crowd of people after six minutes, she’d turned round to walk the whole thing with Kyle.

Emily finished not long after me, and before everyone else. My mum nearly beat her time from last year. Kyle got to run some of the race (and pulled off an impressive sprint finish to overtake Grandma). And Auntie Lou and Helen got to the end in one piece (well, one piece each I suppose) and the lady with the microphone came out on the course to talk to them like celebrities.

I am SO proud of them all. I’ve been entering daft races for years now, and recognised the signs of slight panic and excitement in everyone else. The last minute preparations of the night before (‘I must get a new ribbon for my hat!’ ‘What on earth should I write on this sign for my back??’ ‘I’ve lost my safety pins!’). On the morning I missed the communal giddiness and ‘what on earth have we signed up for??’ that I know and love (I suspect I also caused a few flutters of ‘where on earth is Jennifer and is she even going to arrive before the race starts??’)

And those smiles of relief and achievement that come with the medal at the end?

Auntie Lou and Helen at finishMum and EmilyYou just can’t beat them, can you?

So we had a marvellous day, and between us raised about £600 for Cancer Research UK. I’m so impressed with us, and we all give sincere thanks to those who sponsored us.

I was chuffed to hear the post-race enthusiasm for doing it again next year.

Some folk will do anything for a shiny medal…