Savoury Vegan Muffin Supper

Roses flourishing in the garden of Robin's aunty.

This evening when it was still blazing hot and I had to draw the kitchen curtains against the sun, I made savoury vegan muffins. Raised with flax seeds - ground and soaked in water. And a teaspoon of cider vinegar - all egg replacements. 

I experimented with two varieties using the same basic mixture of polenta, spelt flour, olive oil and almond milk.

 A spicy one with red pepper, sweetcorn, onion, flavoured with roasted cumin , chilli and fresh coriander.

And a Mediterranean one with green olives, sun-dried tomatoes, artichokes, fresh rosemary, garlic and parsley.

They looked dull when they came out of the oven. The texture was disappointing  - a bit heavy. The flavours were mild. So I perked them up  - one of each for my supper  - with a big dollop of  oily, garlicky, sweet roasted tomatoes and more olives. 

Almost as delicious as the ones I sometimes make raised with eggs and oozing melted cheddar with a crunchy parmesan crust on top. But not quite.

Something to believe in.

My garden blackbirds.

I'm finding it hard to sleep at the moment - the heat and the full  moon.

So I got up early this morning and by 8am I had made a batch of flapjacks, roasted a tray of garlic and basil  tomatoes, done a load of hand washing and caught up with my emails. By 9am I felt ready to go    back to bed.

I didn't  of course  - it's Thursday - market day and the first new potatoes have arrived which I can't resist. A dear friend comes to tea but it's far too hot to sit outside. She takes medicinal cannabis for some health issues. I didn't realise you can now buy it across the counter without a prescription.

But now my early start has caught up with me. And I will be up early again tomorrow as my buyers are having the building survey done of the house. I know they will say there is damp and the timbers should be treated for woodworm. But it's a Victorian house and you can't really expect anything less.

I read this quote, attributed to Audrey Hepburn, today.

To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.

I need something to believe in.....the garden seems a good place to start.

Life Expectancy

At Robin's grave with a dear friend recently....offering daisies and rose petals from the garden.

Today I learned that one of my oldest friends - we met in 1976 when we were both teaching English as a foreign language  - is in the later stages of Alzheimers' disease. Her family have just been given a life expectancy prognosis and are in deep shock and grief. I was so saddened when I saw her on Sunday - so frail and thin - but her blue blue eyes still so sparkly and mischievous. Like she has always been.

Today

The doctor says the solar keratosis spot on my back is a basal cell carcinoma. And it should be removed. But as it's not serious the waiting time is 2 months or more.

 I've had one removed on my leg before.She asks if there is anyone at home to keep an eye on it for me. No, not now. 

But I can always get a dear friend or sister to take a photo on my iPhone at regular intervals to see if there is any change in it.

  

This Mediterranean heat is burning me up. My feet and ankles are little fat cushions.

It's burning up the garden even more - the flowers in their pots  on the patio are being cooked all day.

The kingsize sheets get dry on the spinner in an hour.

I take our kingsize, cream coloured bed spread to the dry cleaners at Morrisons and buy tomatoes and asparagus for supper.

I spend hours on the phone getting buildings and contents insurance quotes for my new home.

And I can't stop thinking about my lost friend ....and remembering when I found out that the average life expectancy for Robin's condition of semantic dementia was 8 years.That was when I turned to ice inside.

Later the consultant said he could have 15 - 20 years.

After the MND diagnosis it was 3-5 years

Then it was a year to 18 months.

But it was only 5 months in the end.

He had 6 years altogether.

 Even when everyone else could see it, I always thought we'd have more time. I still haven't de-frosted.

Tiny Miracle

Welcome to my new great niece - named after her great-grandmothers. She is utterly beautiful and perfect in spite of her traumatic start in this life....now safely at home with her dear courageous parents and doted on by her grandparents.

I felt very lucky and grateful to be able to hold her for a few moments on Saturday and to feel the wonder of the tiny miracle she is.

The Leaving of the Garden....and my Home

21st June - the Solstice.

The longest day. 

The hottest night.

The white of summer.

Even though I still have a lot to do as I'm going away for the weekend,  this evening the sun is like a

 demanding magnet. I sit for a long time with my feet up on one of the green plastic garden chairs and watch the pigeons and the magpies squabbling over the bird seed.

And I let the leaving of the garden sink into my skin along with the prickle of the sun.

Later I wash up my supper dishes still wearing my sunglasses and try and imagine myself  in another garden, in another kitchen and wonder how I will ever make it my home. This is still my home but it's  echoey empty without Robin. So some magnet is pulling me towards a just-me home and repelling me at the same time. Sometimes exciting..... but then I want to creep back into the safety of how it was....but how it can never be again. Stressful and tiring and and rooted in grieving.

I'm taking a short blogging break but will be back soon. 

A memory is a photograph....

A dear friend send me this lovely quote - don't know who wrote it.

"A memory is a photograph taken by the heart to make a special moment last forever".

I have been in the garden most of today, cutting back, re-potting, watering, mowing, weeding. Remembering times with Robin...in all our gardens. 

 I'm assured by those who know that at some point in the future ....when more years have passed...... that it will be only the good memories and the special moments that will stay with me....in my heart.

... red cherries to celebrate.

Bills - road tax, car insurance, Marks and Spencer's, buildings insurance, TV licence. I sit at the kitchen table and pay them -  all online now. Don't know why it takes me so long.

I start clearing and sorting the cabinet drawers and bookshelves in the dining room....covering the table with piles of paper.

I clear and sort the old bags of compost, rotting leaves, broken pots, dead plants, and redundant  plastic boxes at the end of the garden. Dirt under my nails.

I water the thirsty garden - the earth cracking -  think about what shall I take with me....what shall I leave behind? 

I fill the car with fuel, buy wonky asparagus and a globe artichoke at Morrisons, and boxes of  honey mangoes at the Indian store and a box of red cherries at the Turkish shop.

I chargrill the asparagus,  boil the artichoke, and make a mustardy, garlicky, peppery hot dressing to dip the tips and leaves into and to smear over the poached eggs. In memory of the wonky bounty of Robin's  allotment. 

Afterwards  I peel a sticky sweet perfumed mango in memory of my mother.

And all the time I'm waiting for news. When it comes it lifts my heart with hope.

And I eat a handful of red cherries to celebrate.

Three Very Precious Beings

Tonight I can only think of three very precious beings who need extra tender loving care and attention.

I'm holding them in my heart. And as it is in my power, I'm sending them a thousand angels for protection and support and healing.

 And unconditional love.

 I trust they will feel and know it.

Long Rooted and Sheltered

This afternoon I walk in the park.  Recently I've let myself become overwhelmed with stress and I've stopped doing all the things that help me to cope.  My lovely therapist reminds me that there are ways to resource myself  - or rather let myself be resourced when my mind is paralysed with fear and indecision. Resourced by the magic of the Medicine Wheel....with the grandfather energy from the East...bringing support and protection, fire and spark. Having my back.

Like breathing. Deeply.

And walking. In nature

And asking for Help.

So later, reading a long complicated financial report which I had to understand and sign, I felt calm and slow and when it got too difficult I walked in the garden... deadheaded the pansies..... filled the bird feeders. And then phoned my advisor.

Like these water lilies  - long rooted and sheltered  -  and not doing it all on my own. 

Swimming The Channel Alone

My new plot

Today I feel like I'm swimming the Channel ....alone .....with none of that protective grease smeared on my skin ....and no little safety boat nearby to rescue me if I get into difficulties.

The results of the environmental searches  come back - pages and pages and pages of them.

Looks like there could be a flooding risk. I commission a more detailed enquiry.

The energy efficiency of the house is in a very low band. Even lower than in my big old draughty home now.

The surveyor report says the house is worth much less than I paid for it. But it was my choice.

I choke up while I'm speaking on the phone to a young woman at the building insurance company who cant't answer my questions and doesn't know what to say to me. Robin used to work with the  lovely man who started the green and ethical insurance company - we know him well - but he's not in the office today.

I manage not to cry on the phone to my solicitor and she says she's not worried about the house but I should get more checks done.

Quotes come in from the removal companies - more decisions.

And all I want to do is the fun stuff -  like looking at beautiful fabrics for curtains - far too soon to think about that....

 and buying beautiful bedding for my kingsize bed.

Which I did today in House of Fraser - 60 percent off  800 thread count, pure white Egyptian cotton duvet covers and sheets and pillow cases.

A bargain I'm not going to regret.

Dormice to the Rescue.

These roses are growing in a bed outside the RBS bank in Exeter. I pass them when I'm walking to my solicitor's office - delivering the latest tranche of papers to do with moving house. Walking there is necessary to get me out of my head and all the legal stuff I have to read and understand which drives me potty. Today it was all about the enquiries on my purchase.

Tonight my bedtime reading is the planning application to Mid Devon County Council to build 5 houses in the field next to the house I'm buying. I want to find out what I can expect. 

I'm thrilled to discover that the dormice have come to my rescue.

The area to the east of the site has been retained to serve as an ecology mitigation zone,

 providing a higher value environment for foraging and commuting of dormice.

Which means that they can't build on that piece of land which is on the boundary of my property. So although the houses will still be built -  now only 5, not the 6 as originally proposed -  they won't be jammed up next to me. There will be a safe dormice buffer zone between us.

I can't help imagining the dormice in tiny bowler hats, carrying rolled umbrellas as they commute freely up and down their foraging zone bringing home the bacon/berries for their families.

This is the only very blurred photo I have of a dormouse taken at the Nature Reserve at Seaton Wetlands last May. He's the cutest little thing.

 I miss telling  this story to my father - he had a very soft spot for dormice and he would have cheered when I tell him how they had the power to convince the county council to protect their hedgerow home from bricks and mortar and concrete.

Robin would have cheered too.