What's better than 14 jars of cherry jam?

Well - 14 jars of cherry jam and 2 litres of cherry vodka steeping away.

Had a lovely afternoon picking cherries and chatting with friends, then came home and got stuck into making jam.

The Easy Peasy Lemon Squeezy Cherry Jam Recipe.


Rinse cherries through a colander, then squeeze the pips out, discarding the stones and throwing the slightly squished cherry straight into a saucepan.

Squeeze out as many cherries as you can, all three of us worked at it until our fingers had gone all prune-like and wrinkley.

Boil the cherries in their own juice, and the juice of 2 freshly squeezed lemons (see what I did with the title of the recipe there) for about 20 minutes until soft and squishy, remove any scummy bits from the surface as they boil.

Meanwhile sterilise some jam jars - wash thoroughly, rinse then pour in some boiling water, put the tops on tightly and stand upside down until ready to use.

Now comes the tricky bit, using a measuring jug or a cup measure transfer the cherries to a jam making pot.  The pot needs to be much larger than your volume of cherries as they need to bubble when cooking.  Count your volume, either how many litres of cherries and liquid you are transferring or how many cups it takes to transfer to the bigger pot.

Now for every full measure you need to add 3/4 of sugar; for example if measuring in cups (my favourite because it is so easy)  1 cup of cherries transferred = 3/4 cup of sugar therefore 4 cups of cherries transferred = 3 cups of sugar, or,  1 litre of cherries = 750ml of sugar.

There you go that's all the complicated maths over with now.

Start the liquid off into a rolling boil, it should only need about 7 minutes, but check with the saucer test until jam consistency is reached (drip a bit of the jam mix onto a cold saucer, wait 60 seconds then touch the edge of the drip, and a light skin should have started to form on the top).  I really must get round to buying a jam thermometer.

Pour out the cooled boiling water from the jars and start ladling in your hot jam.  Seal tightly and turn onto lid to cool for a few minutes before turning the right side up to store  (metal lids should pop down as the jam cools once right way up).

For an Italian-esque style jam, add a couple of drops of almond essence into each jar.

Photos will be added to this tutorial tomorrow when I have remembered to charge the battery in my camera again! - done

So thank you (you know who you are) for the gorgeous cherries!

The best cherries for jam making are the bright scarlet slightly sour cherries, for eating the darker purple berries are much sweeter.

Once we had eaten all the cherries we could manage, there was still half a bag full so I have added them to some vodka.  They will be left to steep for about a month in a cool dark place, until the vodka has gone a rich red in colour, then it will be cocktail time - in fact, just in time for my birthday!

Yesterday's chick project stands up to foxy scrutiny.

Yesterday you may have noticed that I moved the chicks from their rabbit hutch home into their own space, namely a piglet rearing room as was, now pretty derelict and unused, the sow's section is the feeding room with several large bins of wheat and barley for the animals.

Being the overly cautious and undeniable Virgo that I am, I gave the chicks the large dog cage to sleep in, as I can close them up in there securely for the night, then added a couple of surplus wire cages on top to block the doorway in fully.

Then because I am a real Virgo through and through, I also added a spare rabbit hutch door, which I wedged in against the hinges of the wooden door to the room, effectively blocking off all the gaps above the cage and the gap under the door too.

Feeling that they were locked in pretty tightly I went off to bed quite happy.

At 1.30am this morning I was rudely awakened by the cries of a fox, and our numpty dog barking his little empty head off.  I released said numpty into the night, and he actually ran in the right direction and managed to chase the fox off.  I checked on all our birdies and bunnies and they were all in one piece but by the door of the piglet room I could see that the rabbit hutch door wedged in place had been disturbed, but unbreached.  Score one for the Virgo traits within.

Speaking of our numpty dog, he will be 4 tomorrow.  He is a Border Collie who appears not to have inherited any of the intelligent traits common in collies but all of the bouncy energetic nature.

I know Borders can be difficult dogs to own, hard to train and control and they do have several down sides to their intelligence, but we have been very fortunate in our dog's temperament, and he makes a wonderful pet.  He has never worked as a herd dog, his natural inclination is to be herdee not herder, he has a small repetoire of tricks, and he is very conscious of his territory but not a guard dog as such, being more inclined to run back to you barking rather than seeing anything off his patch.

Anyway last night at 1.30 we were wandering around with a torch listening to the fox shouting at us from various fields.  One of Arthur's tricks is to bark, run a tight circle and return on command, so we were wandering the lanes and I was sending him into fields randomly with him barking his happy little head off then coming back and being sent off again.  I think he thought his birthday had come early.

Needless to say he is doing the sleep of the dead now, taking on the appearance of a great big smelly rug across the front door.  May have to consider some form of fox chasing reward for his birthday treat tomorrow.

Today's gardening projects already completed, garden weeded, potatoes treated, colorado beetles squished, tomatoes transplanted, next lot of peas collected and frozen, poppy and sweet william seeds collected and redistributed throughout  the flower beds ready for next year.  Time for breakfast now.

Reasons to be cheerful - 1.. 2.. 3..

1. Another bright and sunny day, at 25°c by 10.00 am this morning, washing on the line, greenhouse watered, freshly cut wild flowers and mint decorating the house in huge fragrant bunches.

2. Garden finally growing well - stopped worrying about the things that are obviously not going to germinate and grow, just going to sit back and relax and enjoy what we have, and today looks like a harvest of radish seed pods, the first courgettes are ready to eat too and an abundance of coriander in bloom.

3. Chicks have grown up well, all 10 have survived and have just moved into their new home this morning (what used to be the piglet rearing room, now with the door blocked off with a big dog cage), and in full view of the rest of the chickens so should be able to integrate them soon.

Here is Mama Hog paying the first visit just to see what food they may have, they are about the size of our bantam cockerel now, but I will feel happier letting them out when I think they can stand up to the other larger cockerel and not get bossed about too much by the Queen of the yard, Edith.

Tuesday - smocking / shirring tutorial - summer dress from a sarong.

Some time ago I bought a bargain piece of material on ebay.

Digression :- Got to love ebay and those buyers who don't try to rip you off for postage abroad. Just because I live in France I have not had all my brain cells removed and I KNOW one paperback book does not cost £15.00 to post!

Anyway back on track - this is the material.  It is hard to tell from the photo, but it is various shades of blue in a tie-dye style with sequin stars and dots.

It was a rectangular piece, 115 cm x 149 cm, in a nice light viscose but thick enough not to need lining for decency.

The first thing I did was hem all the edges to prevent fraying. Then I joined the 115cm sides to each other sewing about three quarters of the way down from the edge that will be at the bust line, leaving the last quarter open for a split on the legs.

Left with a tube, too big to wear as is even with a couple of shoulder straps, I decided to have a go at creating a smock (shirred) top to this dress.

I am sewing all of the smock section on my trusty sewing machine - the first time I have ever tried this.

Thread your machine as normal with a strong poly cotton thread, but not too thick.  Then take your bobbin and some thin elastic (I stole mine out of my jewelry making kit, it is normally used for beading bracelets).

Hand wind the elastic around the bobbin taking care not to pull and create any tension in the elastic.  I had to wind the bobbin about 4 times in total to finish the smocking, each bobbin did about 3 rows of stitching.

I opened  back the seam and used some pins to mark the spacing between each row of stitching.

To sew the smocking you will be sewing on the right side of the fabric, so that your thread shows and not the elastic.

Remember to reverse back over the start and end of each row in order to secure the elastic otherwise it will just pull straight out as soon as you tension it.

Then start sewing.  The first row is the easiest, as the material stays flat as your run around the full diameter of your 'tube'.

As you move down to the next row, you will need to pull the material out flat as you go around, don't let the material bunch up with the elastic.

 Sew several full rows around the top of the tube extending approximately 15 cms from the top hem line.  This creates a shorter smock effect top with an empire line dress falling below.  If you are graced with a more forgiving figure then you can continue smocking for another 15 cms to create a skirt that falls from the waist.

Now I think it is time to try it on, mix myself a cocktail and relax by the pool.

Take that Gok Wan!

Yep that's really helpful......

Monday morning I awoke with the lark, or the cockerel crowing or something like that, either way I was up at 5, had my coffee and was raring to go.

The chickens were still blinking at me bleary eyed when I opened the hen house at 6, bunch of slackers that they are they don't rise until 8 as a rule.  The baby bunnies were all still curled up around their mummy while I was busy getting their feed and water, very cute.

With the animals sorted I decided to tackle a few weeds in the garden after the weekend storm.

So you need to picture the scene now:  I have been awake for a couple of hours, done the morning animal chores, managed to get the sole pair of nice-ish clean pyjamas dirty (because of course I didn't get dressed when I got up so as not to disturbed gently sleeping other half), so I am in my clean on 24 hours ago pjs, in my muck boots, now speckled with chicken poo and dirty animal drinking water, hoeing the garden for all I am worth in 20°C at 9 in the morning - when my dearly beloved stumbles to the front door.

He asks if I want coffee - I point out I am streaming with sweat because I am a tad warm but could do with a glass of water.  He shuffles back inside.

Half an hour later he shuffles back outside - would I like any help - I reply - very calmy - that would be lovely thank you.  (I do not at this point mention the water).

Half an hour goes by as he finds his gloves, goes to the barn to get a hoe, remembers that all my gardening stuff is now in the garage - where he told me to move it to in order to free up the space in the barn 3 months ago, so gets his hoe, and comes and stands in the same row I am working my way down.  I point out that another row would be a better place for him to start work.  He shuffles off.

I work down the row of cabbages, turn the corner and start down the row of beetroots.  It is very hot.  I have been outside working for a couple of hours now, I manage to refrain from mentioning the water and opt to just finish the weeding then call it a day in the garden.

As I turn around I catch from the corner of my eye the industrious hard work happening at the bottom of the garden as he weeds the pumpkin row - then I shake myself awake from my day dream and spy him eyeing up the redcurrants - there are some ripe for picking again - he cries.  I know - I reply, but I am trying to weed before it gets too hot to do anything ourside - oh yeah - he says - quite hot isn't it already.  Half an hour passes as he stares at the beautiful clear blue sky.

I work my way up the patty pan squash row, through the salads, then the tomatoes, around the fennel, around the cucumbers and get to the pea canes, only two rows of these and the whole top half of the garden is weeded and I can get a my glass of water because it is really very hot, and I have been working for a few hours now and a break would be good.

As I turn the corner to the peas, I spy a hoe on the ground and no other half attached to it - ah I think - he remembered the water, still better late than never.  But no - no sign of him, and the pumpkins could only be considered weeded if by weeded you meant untouched.

I thought I'd help you with the peas - he says from beside me.  Oh lovely but I've nearly finished weeding now and then I'm going inside for a bath - I say.

Oh thats OK - says he - I'll  pick them when you've finished weeding then you can pod them and put them in the freezer.



ARRRGGHHHHHH - said I.

Sunday's brief project - fly curtain for the studio.

We went to the sales yesterday.

Considering how rotten I was feeling and how much my psyche was begging for some retail therapy to ease it, I managed to stay strong and resist all the bargain clothes reductions - I didn't even buy a pair of pretend suede ankle boots  in soft beige with big buckles and stocky cowboy stack heels that I found in the sales reduced to 12€.  That's how strong I am!

Phew - wipe the sweat of resistance from my brow, and then shamefully admit:

"My name is Monika and I am a bargain basement material-aholic"

Having taken Thea around all the trendy young thing shops - (so no temptations there at all for me), we also trawled a couple of the larger supermarket for their sale bargains.

I must clarify (and digress) - I love the French way of handling sales.

There are only 2 sales periods in a year, one in February and one in July.  All the rest of the year you get the odd promotion, but not a real sale with knockdown prices and bargain bins of tat.  Nor do you get that very UK things of non-seasonal items reduced all year round, so for instance, you can't buy your next years Christmas decorations in the New Year sales, because there aren't any, and by February when the sales are on, no Christmas things are to be seen.  You have to buy Christmas decorations and cards etc before December 24th, and you may find things on 3 for 2 promotions or buy one get one half price then and only then.

This comes as a very real culture shock having spent the last few years in the UK getting used to being able to buy anything at any time and usually reduced.

You can't buy a swimming costume in France in the winter unless you go to a specialist sports provision shop.  Fashion swimsuits and bikinis arrive in the shops in May, and are all gone by August, if you miss them, you have to wait till next year.  Even the home order catalogues are seasonal.

I was struck by this after flicking through the summer La Redoute catalogue the other day.  I saw a couple of things that looked quite nice and so when I got home I went online to see if I could get a bigger picture of it to try to copy it (see no buying new clothes - just plagarism instead).  But I made the mistake of looking on the English version of the site and found all sorts of things including thick tights, winter boots, and mittens.  On the French site - only beach cover-ups and swimwear - nothing 'wintery' at all.  Very strange how different the stock levels of the UK/non UK catalogues are.  In fact the two catalogues bear no resemblance to each other.

Anyhoooo - back on topic.

We went around the supermarket sales, and in one of the dark and dusty corners I found a cardboard bin of opened and ex-display bed linens.

Now I actually think I was quite restrained.

Material is very expensive to buy, as are bed linens, but I managed to hold back from throwing the contents of the bin into Brendan's arms and running off cackling manically for the tills.  I actually sorted through the sheets and duvet covers and just bought those that fitted and the colours I needed for lining materials - and at 2 € a double bed fitted sheet they were real bargains.

I also bought a lovely voile tab top curtain for 2€, which I naively offered to Thea for a wall hanging, then when I got it home I squirreled it away into my studio instead to use as a door curtain to keep the flies out.

All that was required was a quick hem to shorten it, then a couple of hooks and a bamboo cane stolen from the garden to suspend it.

Job done.

And just because Thea insists that I am biased towards Ferguson (well he is the most beautiful kitten in the world)  here is a quick photo of Pond in the clover.

What the heck are endives?

Now those of you dwelling in the UK may never have heard of these much less encountered them on the supermarket shelves, I know I hadn't until I moved to France.

They are about the only fresh veg you can find in early spring and my neighbour seems to be on a single handed mission to convert me to the eating of these things, and to that end bought round another crop yesterday in return for some eggs.

So I thought I would educate us all with a bit of info:

The endive I am talking about is generally known as a Belgian endive or Witloof in the US, and is grown from chicory seeds.

Cultivation is pretty labour intensive and that is why I am happy to leave my neighbour to do all the hard work while I just get on with looking for recipes afterwards.

To Grow Endives:

• First plant your chicory seeds in May or June, they need loose soil and lots of water.  Harvest the leaves and eat as salad throughout the summer months.
• In late Autumn, early Winter once the roots have had a couple of freezes under their belts, dig up the roots, keep any that have a diameter of over an inch for cultivating, the rest can be transplanted in the garden under cover for spring salad leaves.
• Trim any remaining sprouting leaves to within an inch of the top of the roots, and remove any side sprouting little roots and tendrils.
• Plant your roots in a box of rich composted soil, and place in the dark preferably in a shed or barn, they will need about 10 inches of soil, and pack them in tightly making sure none of the root is exposed.
• Cover the crowns with sand, straw or sawdust, it needs to be about 6 inches high.
• Temperatures now play a part, between 0°C and 4°C, they won't do anything, but at 10°C to 16°C they will begin to sprout. 
• Once you have reached growing temperature start to water weekly.
• After 3 weeks the first green tips of leaves should start showing through your blackout layer, harvest the endive, leaving a little crown again, recover and let the next endive grow through.

The whiter the leaves are the less bitter the taste.

Baked Endive:

Preheat the oven to 180°C.

• Remove the bitter tasting base of the leaves and slice the endives length wise, 2 spears per person for vegetable accompaniment to a cutlet or escalope, 1 spear per person for a starter.
• Place in the bottom of a shallow dish, pour over some olive oil.
• Add a finely chopped onion
• A couple of crushed garlic cloves
• Some freshly ground black pepper
• A couple of slices of pancetta or other salty cured meat cut into small pieces
• Finish with a quick squirt of lemon juice
• Bake for 45 minutes
• Take out of the oven, and pour over a small 150 ml carton of full fat cream, less if you are only cooking a couple of spears.
• Sprinkle on a bit of paprika
• Bake for a further 15 minutes

Endive Gratin:

Preheat the oven to 180°C.

• 4 endives
• 4 slices ham
• grated cheese
• fresh chopped parsley

Béchamel Sauce

• 30 g plain flour
• 30 g butter or margarine
• ½ litre milk
• salt, nutmeg & pepper

Trim the base of the endives then boil in salted water for 15 minutes.

In the meantime make up the sauce by melting the butter over a gentle heat, whisk in the flour until there are no lumps and you have a thick paste.  Gradually stir in the milk, whisking out any lumps that form until you get a thick creamy sauce, season (the nutmeg is optional - I never add any as a) I don't like it so b) there is never any in the house) and simmer for a few minutes.

When the endives are cooked, wrap each one in a slice of ham and place in a shallow oven proof dish, pour over the sauce and the cheese then garnish with the parsley leaves.

Bake for 15 minutes then finish under the grill for 5 minutes to brown the cheese.

Endive Salad Starter:

 Trim the base of the endives and remove the core to about an inch depth, these inner greener leaves are the bitterest.

Chop down the length, add a couple of sliced tomatoes, season with ground sea salt and some ground black peppercorns, then garnish with a couple of soft boiled quail eggs and a couple of sprigs of fresh parsley.

Bag lady chic.....

OK it's a fair cop - I do have more in my wardrobe than the same 10 pieces that I am alternating with on a daily basis.

Yet I feel that all I do is stitch up hems and darn yet more holes.

I know that the answer does not lie in a shopping mall yet somehow I think that my self inflicted new clothes ban is to blame for this vague itch of disgruntlement.  But how have I arrived at a situation in my life when I think that the answer to a general rumble of dissatisfaction lies in the purchase of some new clothes.  I know consumerism is the panacea for the 20th century but for some reason I thought I was inured from it.

Just last week Brendan, courtesy of my mother's recent forays into the charity shops and car boot sales in her town left me with two shirts and a pair of trousers that are like new, so why am I hankering for poorly lit, dreadfully musak-ed stores full of lollipop headed sales assistants (that always make me feel so self conscious when shuffling through the racks looking for something in a size larger then Belsen).  I don't even like the majority of the clothes, nor am I keen on the conditions in which they were created but so suckered in am I that I am yearning for a plastic tagged label to remove.

This morning found me yet again setting aside a pair of denim 3/4 length trousers to repair for the umpteenth time, alongside a particulary unflattering example of pyjama nightmare where the hem is steadily unravelling in a slow attempt by the article in question to hide its shame and seek relegation to the rag bin, but no, off I go to sew it back together again.  But why?  It is so hideous I daren't photograph it for fear of cracking the lens yet I know it will find its way back into the top of my wardrobe and I will be sleeping in it again before the week is out.  And its not like I don't have any other night wear.

Why am I so incapable of throwing away these poor excuses for clothing in favour of the other items lurking in the depths of the wardrobe?  Do I really feel that the face that I want to show the world has much in common with a bag lady?

For some reason I have managed to squirrel away all my nice clothes on hangers and have let the dross rise to the surface time and time again to the point where I am intimately acquainted with about one tenth of my wardrobe and the rest is a mystery.  Trinny and Susannah where are you when I need you most?

I am going to gird my nettle and strengthen my loins and I vow to take a day next week and empty the contents of my wardrobe and swap everything at the back for everything at the front, rag everything that has been patched up at least  5 times, everything that is stained, everything that is stretched beyond recognition and everything that looks as though it has been used for mouse bedding.

In the meantime, I'll just go and sew another patch on my grotty grey t-shirt that I use for gardening, and ignore the fact that my black tracksuit trousers that I normally wear for work are now fetchingly spattered with some of the lovely purple paint from the bedroom wall.  

Bag lady chic anyone?

Oh My God - this is me! My bad.

"Margret flooded the kitchen last week. Turned the taps on, put the plug in the sink, and utterly forgot about it (because she'd come upstairs and we'd got involved in an unrelated argument). She goes back downstairs, opens the door and - whoosh - it's Sea World. The interesting thing about this is, if I'd flooded the kitchen, it would have been a bellowing, 'You've flooded the kitchen, you idiot!' and then she'd have done that thing where I curl up in a ball, trying to protect my head, and she kicks me repeatedly in the kidneys. As it was, however, there's a shout, I run downstairs and stand for a beat in the doorway - taking in the scene, waves lapping gently at my ankles - and she turns round and roars, 'Well, help me then - can't you see I've flooded the kitchen, you idiot?'"


Taken from:-http://www.mil-millington.com/  - fantrastic read to get lost in for a few hours.


Anyway that is me last year - when I cut through the side of Thea's pool with the lawnmower and 50,000 litres of water started pouring down the garden washing away the topsoil!  


I'm stood there with the lawnmower yelling across the garden at Brendan to HELP ME, simultaneously trying to have enough wits about me to remove the lawnmower from said raging torrent of water before it remembers that it is not an aquatic lawnmower but a normal petrol engined one accustomed to dry air and remove the handy up until now cable tie that is acting as the override on the dead man's handle on the mower, whilst also desperately racking my brains to remember what is stashed in the barn that is plastic and waterproof that I can wedge against the split in the side of the pool to prevent all the water washing away the pumpkins and artichokes so inconveniently placed on the downhill slope and inadequately equipped for white water rafting.  Meanwhile Brendan wanders over with empty hands and most helpfully in the circumstances points out that I have cut through the side of the pool.  Well bugger me, I hadn't even noticed!

I am sure this used to be easier

Decided to paint my toenails today to celebrate the arrival of flipflops and summery sandals, but I am sure it used to be easier.  These days I am left distinctly out of breath and with strange cramps in my calves as I attempt to bend my feet in ways nature never intended in order to reach each pinkie.

Perhaps I should dig out my yoga mat and attempt to recapture some flexibility - hmmmmm - not sure whether I could manage the sun salutation without my two cups of caffeine first......and some anti-flammatories afterwards.........


With my internal domestic goddess on strike today, and the temperatures in the high 30s, I set to my long overdue shop updates, with the recycled bags I have been making recently.

I had all these fantastic ideas for a themed photoshoot, had even managed to convince Thea to model after school, and then it went and got too hot, and we got bitten by multitudes of flying biting insects so crept home and did the photography in the cool dim hay barn instead.

But at least that is another thing ticked off the rapidly expanding list.

Etsy listings are here for the vintage florals, here for the fantastic funky 70s floral, and here for the nautical stripes, plus a few others inbetween.