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F's take on the world Tigger left behind.

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Showing posts from April, 2016

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Fishing for Mice

April 20, 2016

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Tigger aka Mr T

2007/8? to 2023

Tigger's Mum

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TIgger aka Mr T

Your pawprints are on our hearts

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Recent Favorites

The Ferry Boat is an inn situated on the Western most point of Hayling Island - where the ferry crosses the Langstone Harbour entrance to Eastney (Portsmouth and Southsea). Late one Saturday afternoon (just after the clocks got their Spring move forward), I suggested to Mr B that we pack up whatever it was we had been doing that day and go somewhere 'for a beer'. We don't have 'a local' and tend to spread our patronage around a bit. The last time we went to the Ferry Boat was years ago and I was put off by the poor quality of the meals (micro-waved TV dinners essentially - no one goes out to eat those), so we haven't been there for years. Candidates for a late afternoon social drink at this time of year must, in my view, have a good view of a sunset. That cuts it down to the Red Lion at Chalton (perfect sunset over the Downs), The Ship at Langstone (sunset over Langstone Harbour), or - now that I came to think about it - The Ferry Boat (with a sunset over S

Out of the Freezer

It has started to become glaringly obvious to me that the contents of the large freezer in our garage might be in excess of our nutritional requirements over the next 4 or 5 months. Time, therefore, to get serious about basing all meals on something that has been stashed in the freezer. The small truckload of greens for instance (nettles and spinach from last spring and summer) that was being added gradually to polenta and orzotto/rizotto, has come under scrutiny and hortopita has been order of the day twice in recent weeks. I can't get 'village' phyllo here in UK so took a leaf out of the book of Angela and used the pastry available (in our case flakey pastry) - not the same texture at all but works ok as a pie. The muffins in this case might have been rhubarb and something. That's another stock of something for which the new season, fresh kind is nearly ready. Rhubarb, in the minds of most consumers of the stuff, needs sugar. With Mr B being diabetic now I have t

Still Daily Sketching

Although these examples come from January and February (and I was rather pleased with Tower Bridge because I managed to do that on a blustery, wet day and realized only afterwards that I wasn't wearing my glasses. I am long sighted and have no trouble seeing the bridge, it was the page at the end of my arm that would normally be completely out of focus. Amazing what can be achieved....if you aren't thinking about your limitations) To date I have managed about 6 drawings that I 'quite like', but my all time favorite is a Grenadian fire hydrant 🤔. Really? I did see this piece of advice somewhere recently and I thought I might (re) blog it: Seek not to create beauty but to see beauty in what you create. This is not my composition or initiative. I was simply looking for a tutorial on how to draw something with folds in it and came upon this website - clicked randomly on #132. I like his take on which story you choose to hear.

Chocolate Mudcake

No 38 - Mudcake While I was as University I worked nearly full time 5 nights a week in a local restaurant. The owners were head cook and maitre d' together and ran one of the most 'hip' restaurants in town. They eschewed formal 'cheffing' qualifications and pulled together everyday dishes from a wide range of cultures and countries where they had travelled. Dishes on the black board menu hailed from around the Mediterranean, Middle East, North and West Africa, Mexico, Indonesia & Japan - and anything else that was tasty, unfussy, fresh & personal. Daily changes in the blackboard menu reflected that which was seasonally available and as much as possible was purchased from local producers. (And this was the 1980's) Sue grew a wide range of herbs, and fresh herbs featured abundantly. My own garden supplemented this on occasion. We sometimes used quiet afternoons when all 'prep' for the evening was complete, to make up jars of colourful preser

Soap

Just thought I would throw this in here because I like the colour. There was no machine for washing clothes in the places we stayed in Grenada, and at some stage it became obvious that Mr B had packed in anticipation of being able to wash (or have me wash) for reuse some of the garments he had splashed his food onto. The shop next door had these bars of blue soap, and the apartment had an orange plastic wash basin. I recall 'blue bags' sitting on the wooden windowsill of our washhouse at the cottage we lived in when I was about 5. I have no idea what was in blue bags, but like the purple rinse that is supposed to take yellowing out of white hair like mine, the blue got dunked in the wash water for the whites - AND was hauled out and applied to me whenever (and wherever) I got a bee-sting. (I used to suffer loads from being stung, and don't believe for a second that the blue bag made a bean of difference. Mum believed in it. It took until I was an adult to get my mothe