Monday 14 September 2015

Frittering away time

Some of my earliest memories of desserts come from my first trip to Canada in 1977 to visit family.

Great Aunt Mary made amazing blueberry pies and butter tarts. Then there were the donuts and other baking that could be bought in the Mall (a very new thing to a girl from a small town in the "old country").

Well the Canadian baking link has recently re-engaged through the marvellous medium of Facebook. Dad's cousins grand-daughter posted a recipe for a Apple Fritter cake. As I recently bought a massive bag of apples I have been baking again, as well as using my bounty in my lunchbox and as sauce with my cereals. Here is my version of the Apple Fritter cake. I left off the glaze, as that was one serving of sugar too far!


Thanks Julie, the Canadian heavenly dessert lives!

Sunday 13 September 2015

Convalescent Home

Coneysthorpe has turned into a convalescent home! Two old codgers sit on the verandah in the weak spring sunshine, wrapped up in blankets and doing very little but doze or turn pages of books.

The two weeks of illness turned to six for me. I am into a second round of antibiotics, in the hope that an infection will finally be banished. Having heard gruesome stories from neighbours and colleagues at work about various sicknesses in our region, I'm not hopeful for a swift recovery! Hubby also went down with something weird. Thankfully we had food in the cupboards for ourselves and the cats, as neither of us were well enough to drive..........oh, I had a car accident just over a week ago too. First in 38 years of driving. Thankfully no one was hurt, but I really think I wasn't well enough that day to be alert, hence the bump.

Anyhow, enough of that. Here are a few photos from our beautiful Coneysthorpe from the last month.

Kereru in the Empress tree. They swoop with the grace of a wheelie bin and land with the finesse of sumo wrestler, or as I said to a fellow Kereru fan recently "They fly like a pregnant bi-plane with dodgy landing gear"


New lambs in the paddock. Mother bleats basso-profundo, which is slightly alarming both to us and her progeny!