The taste of sunshine..

Tomatoes. Oh , that wonderful smell on your hands!

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Picked in the warm, late afternoon sunshine..

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– seasoned generously –

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Cooked long and slow for that caramelised touch…..

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………drink good coffee while you wait..

 

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For a little while I pretended that I was in Italy.

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Note to self; Recently I had a longer ‘gap’ between posts.

It occurred to me, that if and when I¬† had the time, it might be good to have a couple of small ‘back up’ posts ready.

However I didn’t take into account how seasonal our lives are. Even a light post generally includes something slightly topical or a photograph of the time. So this was written a couple of weeks ago and already, in this rather damp, grey week, the sunny tomatoes feel rather incongruous! I hope a nice reminder?

Likewise, a long post rather moaning about the weather was followed by – Cuba/ Florida news of hurricanes. Those poor people. It put my complaining to shame so I deleted that one…

Also …. while trying to add this post script to the already finished and spell-checked ‘Tomato’post my inept computer abilities managed to delete the whole article. Pictures and all. I was just left with the title.

So much for time saving!!

Back to the drawing board! ūüôā

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh, honestly…!

Sometimes I think that I exist in a parallel universe.

No, wait. That’s wrong.

Sometimes I think that a parallel universe exists within me…

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I spend a lot of time with food.

Researching it. Thinking about it…

Growing it…harvesting it…

Preparing it, cooking it, eating it!

Like many people, trying to stay / be ‘healthier’ with it.

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I suspect it would be healthier for my mind to simply be more relaxed about it….

So in the mornings I carefully prepare my days meals. Organically grown. Cooked ( and photographed!) with love….

( that’s b***ocks for a start. Mostly cooked with impatience and boredom at this end of the season, and a strong desire to sit down and watch the tele instead…)

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Anyway –

In little glass pots and jars, I place in my basket ripe, soft tomatoes cooked with onions and the best olive oil. Snowy stewed apples. Piquant, caraway seeded sauerkraut. Diced cucumbers. Organic, unhomogenised milk. Crisp seeded oatcakes. A ripe banana.

I carry it all carefully to the car to be my good sustenance for the day.


 

Then I go back inside and eat a supermarket toasted white muffin with a fried egg on top.

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SIGH.

Ah, me.

( Sometimes, when I have eaten too much¬† ‘slightly less than healthy’ food in a day I panic.

-All those lovely vegetables!!

—¬† All that time growing and cooking!

—¬† ¬†So then I eat as much as I can of that too.)

 

…..Then I have to go and have a¬† lie down in a darkened room.

 

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Grumpity grump….

NOTE: The photographs in this post bear no relation to the text!

I had thought to include ‘appropriate’ pictures. But¬† I realised that there are so many images in our live of ugly or painful or simply scruffy things. Both in reality and over and over again in all forms of the media. I feel that this adds unnecessary stress to us all. And distorts the truth that we can often choose to look at something beautiful or amazing, if we are lucky.

So instead I have included random pretty flowers as a distraction from my slightly  grumpy words.


 

Travel weary.

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The train is like a worn out¬† dragon, screeching and squealing it’s rusty wheels on the tracks. Reluctantly dragging it’s heels¬† – moving against it’s will .

Much like me.

The view of the passing, scruffy fields fuels my disgruntled mood. I am sore and tired. Thirsty. The constant background roar assails my ears. It feels so hot and stuffy in here.

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The countryside is not remote any more. At least not in this area. Our humanity litters it with the debris of our needs.

From sheep to hay bales – relatively comforting – to giant hoses and destructive digging machines. Mountains of building materials. Solar panels, electricity pylons marching, scurfy and neglected canals – floating with litter and late summer dust.

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Giant, ugly warehouses, and the debris of¬† constant fabricating and dismantling lies everywhere. Heaps of sand. Heaps of rubble. Heaps of cement, of gravel… tangled collections of dull and dangerous metal wires.

We are a messy species.

We trudge around disregarding the earth beneath our feet.

This planet needs a plaster.

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And yet I know….

My mind is discommoded by speed and too much movement. The sky looks grey.

The job list of home lurks waiting for me..

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Another day and the clouds could clear, and I could see beyond the small scars to the wide blue skies and the deep trees ..

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.. the lure of the seasons ahead…

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Going home sucks….


 

PS … isn’t it weird how incongruous the pictures are! And also how it helps to take the attention away from the gloom….

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Writing this reminded me of a poem which I love, so I will put it here.

I think it deserves to be shared.

I used to know much of it by heart and the rhythm and the meaning in the words helped me through some sticky places.

 

Wild Geese by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

 

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

 

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

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Clueless…

You know those (impossible) crosswords where they give you hardly any clues?

Well, this is a bit like that…… only easier.

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(Yes I know it doesn’t¬†look that great..)

….but – I took these photographs before I went away ¬†to Cromer. And I wrote the words to go with them. Honest, I did! But the words have vanished into the mist. And to be fair, there is only so much you can say about courgettes, and I have already said most of it this summer.

 

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…..except that this little innocuous looking pot is sheer spice magic!

– Courtesy of ‘totally cultured’ , a food stall on Saffron Walden market which has recently started selling many different fermented and delicious products. I can highly recommend all the ones I have tried ( beware – the Kimchi is¬†HOT!)

The pot above is a spice paste including turmeric, ginger, black pepper, salt, coconut oil Рand it  seems to be extremely tasty with many things. It certainly takes courgettes to a new level .

 

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Ps I know this is not a courgette. Just a pretty picture. however it is a real flower and not photo enhanced in any way. How cool is that?!

 

 

Feebles and Foibles

Travel. I don’t travel lightly. Either psychologically or physically!

 

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My collection of anxieties, doubts and dreads mean that I spend much of my life wrapped in a tangle of protection.

Routines, rituals, talismans, specific ways of doing things. Eating habits, sleeping needs – all are complicated by my wayward thoughts.

( or as my mother might say… I am just too fussy!)

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Trying to give a bit of background to this subject could easily turn into several posts on its own. To attempt to explain a little….

…..most of my senses are a bit awry. In one way or another, I suspect that they always have been. I know that when the brain is faulty , malfunctioning¬†¬†, maverick ((I love that word!) then to a degree senses can ¬†be affected. This can be the case for many people on the autistic spectrum too I believe. Often, human senses can get over-hyped.

Which feels seriously disturbing to try and live with.

( This isn’t mildly irritated feelings. Most of these things are ‘chalk on a black board, knife on a plate, polystyrene squeaking, hyperventilating, panic attack inducing runaway now sensations…)

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Personally, I have very acute smell, and most man made/chemical scents make me feel frantic and panicky. I can often taste them in my mouth. This includes all scented products – perfumes and aftershave ¬†colognes, shower gels and washing powders, house cleaners and washing up liquids, shampoos and air fresheners, ( and those are considered the ‘nice’ ones!)

Then of course petrol, cigarette smoke, paint, new carpet, plastics. The list goes on and on. Very boring.

My sense of touch is also quite extreme, and my skin dislikes anything tight and anything in man made fabrics. So no polyester or nylon, no bras or sports clothing – and one to watch out for, often ‘100% ¬†cotton’ clothing is stitched together with polyester thread.

I am aware that I frequently go out looking pretty scruffy. But for me, the older and softer the cotton clothing, the less ‘screamy’ my skin feels. Shoes are a particular problem as I would like to have bare feet all the time….

The touch sensation of course extends to duvets,/sheets/bedding/towels. In the last few years, I have sometimes found the feel of water difficult -( yep – getting smelly!)

Sight – ¬†well, some colours ‘jar’ like an out of tune piano chord. It makes me wince.

Sounds – often make me jump but are currently the least problematic.

Taste – is inextricably linked to smell but it is the texture of many foods which can be tricky…

SO.. by now you may be laughing. Or disbelieving? Or frustrated and perhaps thinking – why doesn’t she pull herself together! –

Or perhaps sighing in empathy and thinking ‘oh, me too’ with some of those things – or ‘thank goodness I am not the only one..’ Always nice not to feel too isolated when my brain is being particularly barmy…

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Anyway, I digress. This is a travel post. So I am going to the seaside for 3 days to spend time with my lovely family and delightful grandchildren.

This is my luggage.

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( yes, for 3 days!)

Which wouldn’t be a problem if I was going in this car but I am going on a train.

( yes, I can drive. I had hoped to try this time. But I got anxious about traffic and getting lost, fast roads and other drivers and car breakdowns..)

I am staying in a very luxurious B and B – a farmhouse with big rooms – and I have contacted them to make sure that the windows open wide and that I can go out for a walk at 4 am without disturbing anybody.

But still I have to pack; sheets and a pillow case ( the bedding may feel odd or smell difficult) Рtowels, ditto, toiletries and vitamins,  ( including my weird black toothpaste and wonderful bamboo toothbrush Рplastic brushes make me gag). Teabags( organic, unbleached), and milk ( raw and organic.)

Warm clothes – in case..

…cool clothes – in case.. ( and swimming suits!)

……..spare shoes – in case…

Food like nuts and figs, fruit, a jar of stewed apples (!!)

Spare rubbish bags ( so I don’t dirty the bin in my room?)

Socks ( in case the carpet feels wrong)..

I booked the parking in advance

I bought the train tickets in advance

I pack one bag with soft stuff so that I can use it to sit on ( I often sit on the floor by the train doors – ¬†to get a bit of ‘fresh’ air at each station. The carriages smell of many, many peoples perfumes all jumbled together…. and the seat fabric is just weird…)

I write down all the train times. And other possible trains in case I miss those. And all the platform numbers I might need to help me try and find the trains.

I have far too much luggage so my back hurts and I start eating the food long before I am hungry to try and lighten the load… especially at the end of the journey, when I had promised myself a taxi for the last little bit but there were none to be found..

My brain is now humming the mantra;

‘ serves you right, serves you right…

…but for what?

Just for generally being a mad, bad person I guess…

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Worth it.

 

(PS a special big thank you for Fiona and Geoff of Jonas Farm in Cromer for their kindness, understanding and generous hospitality. You can find them on air b and b if you need a  beautiful place to stay in Norfolk! )

 

 

Stock taking…

The gradual slowing down of the growing season gives me time to pause for thought.

There is lots that I could be doing – always! – but I get to the allotment and potter. Wander around, pick a few beans here and a few overripe tomatoes there.

Sit in the sun, when it is out… perhaps writing this.

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Gather jugs full of rich and complex flowers – glowing with colours to share with friends.

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My body wants me to slow down too. I feel tired earlier in the afternoon. But honestly, my work load and generally barmy life dictate otherwise. So I want to assess my energy needs too.

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I have been interested in the idea of fasting for some time. I watched some of the TV programmes about it, such as ‘Trust Me I’m a Doctor’ which explained a lot of the more recent research in this field. I find it fascinating and exciting.

In the past, I have taught cookery classes and run courses, including  putting more value on good, basic foods. Learning about different ways to eat and nourish our bodies. Often this includes far more traditional ways of eating than the modern, western diet that many of us are used to.

Feeding our bodies with what they really need to thrive.

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Looking at long past history, and modern science, occasional fasting in a variety of ways can help our bodies to heal and grow strong. A bit of rest and recuperation for our beleaguered digestive system.

I really want to give it a go. But I procrastinate.

( To be fair, I procrastinate about most things in life. It is my default mode. I am extremely good a being indecisive.)

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I have lived on ‘Stock’ for several days at a time before. It is the start of the GAPS diet healing protocol. I found it relatively easy and extremely soothing for my digestion.

But that was years ago and I feel much more well now. Is that what puts me off?

Trying to work it out in my mind, I am aware that I dislike feeling hungry. I know that when I haven’t eaten for a while I generally have more energy and often feel more focused and clear headed. Perhaps that is why I get up early and get a lot done – I haven’t had any food in the night!

During the day, I find feeling hungry or empty very similar to feeling anxious. Or nervous and upset. Or scared. Or all of the above. The gurgling tummy is distracting and disturbing.

In fact I believe that I often do the opposite – lots of eating when I feel anxious and panicky, in case it is hunger after all…

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So perhaps I will wait until I feel relatively calm and stable (hmm….) before I try my next fast.

In the meantime I am reading Michael Mosley’s books – the Fast Diet, and his new one, the Clever Guts Diet – to inspire me. Clear and well written books. Highly recommended.

 

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PS I am rather hoping that ‘going public’ with the idea might encourage me to do it…. if only so I can write another blog on how it went! I suspect it is more likely that I will write another blog on procrastination….