Day 31. In my shoes.

Well I've made it to the end of the first month. Thirty-one photos of sometimes questionable quality, supported by my ramblings which, on occasion, may have managed to hold your attention.

Bea stuck with me for 19 days but eventually decided she'd prefer to put herself in my shoes literally, rather than figuratively. So here she is. In my shoes.

Day 30. A different landscape.

Driving through Kent, I failed to pay close enough attention to my sat nav and took a wrong turn. It reminded me of a conversation I once had with my friend Jamie when he heard we were visiting Bali: 'Take a left', he said, 'anywhere, just take a left and see what you find'. It was great advice then, and although today I took a right and it was unintentional, the same principle applied. If I'd stuck to the more direct route I wouldn't have happened upon this stunning property with its unique architectural style. From the outside it looks to have been renovated with great care and the oast houses blend sympathetically with the more traditional elements of the house. Not even the brooding sky can detract from its beauty.

Day 29. Favourite foods when you're ill.

When I'm under the weather I usually crave unhealthy comfort food like pickled onion Monster Munch or a Cadbury's Caramel. This was Bea's request, she is suffering with flu at the moment: roasted red peppers with olive bread.

It really is delicious and also works well as a side with fish. Here's the recipe in case you fancy making it.

Piedmont Roasted Red Peppers (Delia Online)

Serves four as a light supper.

Ingredients:

4 large red peppers (green aren’t suitable)
16-20 baby plum or cherry tomatoes
8 anchovy fillets (tinned in olive oil)
2 cloves of garlic
8 dessertspoons of olive oil
Freshly milled black pepper
Fresh basil (to serve)

Preheat the oven to 180°C (or Gas Mark 4, 350°F)

Begin by cutting the peppers in half from stalk to base, leaving the stalks intact and removing the seeds (the stalks aren’t edible but they look nice and help the pepper halves to keep their shape).

Lay the pepper halves in a lightly oiled roasting tray. Use a solid, shallow tray as if the sides are too high the peppers won’t have those lovely nutty, toasted edges.

Slice the tomatoes in half and place 4 or 5 halves in each pepper, depending on the size. (Delia recommends removing the skins from the tomatoes but if you use baby plum or cherry varieties I find you don’t need to do this).

After that, roughly chop the anchovy fillets allowing one fillet per pepper and lay these over the tomatoes.

Peel the garlic cloves, slice them thinly and divide the slices equally among the tomatoes and anchovies.

Now spoon 1 dessertspoon of olive oil into each pepper, season with freshly milled pepper (but no salt because of the anchovies) and place the tray on a high shelf in the oven for the peppers to roast for 50 minutes to 1 hour.

When you dish up the peppers make sure you use all of the delicious juices and add a few leaves of basil to each pepper half.

Serve with good bread; focaccia or olive bread is perfect.

Day 28. All about Austen and alliteration.

It's not really about alliteration, just Jane Austen, but the ability to add two additional words starting with the letter 'a' was too hard to resist.

Two hundred years ago today, Pride and Prejudice was first published. Sold for a one-off payment of £110 (Jane had hoped for £150), this literary classic has sold more than 20 million copies. I had intended to post a photo of a different Austen novel, Persuasion, but it's nowhere to be found. I can't imagine I would have donated my much-thumbed, note-scribbled copy to a charity shop and kept only the York Notes used for my English Lit A'Level but who knows what madness may have struck during one of my 'we need a skip outside the house NOW' days.

Whilst I loved Pride and Prejudice, and was of course a huge fan of Colin Firth's wet shirt portrayal of Mr Darcy in the TV series in the 90s, paving the way for Daniel Craig some years later, I have to be honest it's not my favourite Austen novel. I much prefer the story of Sir Walter Elliot, a financially strapped widower and his three grown-up daughters, alongside a cast of 'Made in Chelsea/TOWIE/WAG' characters seeking only to marry for wealth and position. It was Jane Austen's last completed novel and its tale of love, rejection and betrayal contains one of the most beautiful love letters in literature, written by Captain Wentworth to the novel's heroine, Anne Elliot.

Let's hope I find my battered old book soon, as although a big fan of both the Kindle and the iPad, it's simply not the same as leafing through the real thing.

"Let us never underestimate the power of a well-written letter." Jane Austen. Persuasion. Published 1816.

Day 27. You thought I was small but in fact I'm really tiny.

I'll start with an apology as this is not a particularly good photo but an iPhone isn't really designed to take pictures of the sky at night. Driving home from the gym, the moon was so bright, big and beautiful I just had to stop to try and capture it.

Okay I failed, but on the evening when Professor Brian Cox returns to our screens with the Wonders of Life it feels apt to marvel at our universe. By comparison we are infinitesimally small and yet what a difference we can make.

Day 26. Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture.

Today was supposed to be about preparing the business accounts ready for my accountant. That and the usual weekend chores of washing, ironing and food shopping. Instead, whilst baking some chocolate cupcakes and listening to the radio it became a day of memories. Coldplay's 'Every Tear is a Waterfall' took me back to the Olympic Stadium where we watched the Paralympic Closing Ceremony. 'Starlight' by Muse reminded me that this was one of the first songs Bea recognised and bounced along to. Listening to 'Land of Hope and Dreams' by The Boss and there I was in Manchester's Etihad Stadium with one of my best friends and a few thousand other fans. Music for me, like for so many others, has remained a constant thread, joining grey cell to grey cell and never failing to recreate exactly the same feelings and emotions experienced during, what I would later realise were, the defining points in my life.

So today, the accounts took a back seat and I took notice of the lyrics of a song I had listened to as a girl.

Bea is 8, still a baby in so many ways, but growing up so quickly that sometimes it's like watching TV with someone sitting on the remote control, causing it to repeatedly switch from live pause to 30x fast forward. Rather than sitting in my study all day, we headed off to Cambridge for dinner at Jamie's where Bea could indulge in one of her favourite treats, 'The World's Best Olives', and I sat in awe of this person that I have somehow helped to create, trying to make sure that as time marches on we spend it doing the things that really matter.

Day 25. Bath Butler anyone?

If you stay at The Lowry in Manchester and feel unable to turn on your bath taps and add a suitable amount of bath oils, salts or bubbles, then simply call In-Room Dining and ask for the In-Room Spa. Wait a minute. In-Room Dining? Not housekeeping? Or the actual Spa? Either way, as I'm neither patient or upper-class this is, and will remain, unchartered territory for me. What's that you say? The Bath Butler is male and looks like Johnny Depp .... tempting but no, still no. Fag ash in the water. I'll pass thanks.






Who am I kidding, send him up!

Day 24. Cheers.

Today it's my sister's birthday. I don't really drink anymore but as it's a special occasion, and although I can't celebrate with her, I've decided to toast her special day with a G&T. Happy Birthday Ruth x

Day 23. CoCoes and cake.

I'm heading off to the North West tomorrow for 2 days so I decided to take Bea for cake after school. We headed straight for CoCoes in Swaffham (part of Strattons Hotel) where the assortment of cakes and pastries would tantalise even the fussiest of tastebuds. For me the toffee apple cake looked too good to ignore and Bea chose an extra chewy meringue served with creme fraiche.

As usual the service was homely and welcoming, and coupled with delicious coffee, guarantees that we'll be visiting again very soon.

Day 22. It's more than tuppence a bag.

I can barely keep up with the demand for bird seed, peanuts and fat feasts in the garden at the moment. This jay is a regular visitor and looks all set to survive the cold snap given its size!

It was estimated that during The Great Freeze of 1963, half of Britain's bird population perished in the cold. So although no longer tuppence a bag I'm happy to keep replenishing the feeders; not only can we experience the satisfaction of helping them through the Winter but it's always a pleasure to look out of the window and see so many different birds in the garden.

Today's bird species

Green Woodpecker
Lesser Spotted Woodpecker
Chaffinch
Blue Tit
Magpie
Sparow
Jay
Pigeon
Pheasant
Partidge
Blackbird

Day 21. Did it snow?

Did you know some of us have snow? This was our day.

Woke up.
Checked school closures website.
Made coffee.
Checked school closures website.
Read emails.
Checked school closures website.
School closed.
Told Bea; celebrations all round.
Finished first batch of conference calls at warp speed.
Went sledging.
Headed home tired, cold and slightly soggy.
Had lunch.
Caught up on emails and more conference calls.
Made sausage and bean casserole.
Made an apple and blackberry crumble.
Watched Obama's inauguration speech.
Had supper.

Now it's time to get Bea ready for bed and then I have a tonne of work to catch up on. Totally worth it.

Day 20. My inspiration.

That's my girl. So tired that I'm surprised she decided to run this morning. But run she did, in the ice and snow and although not her fastest time there's still a hint of a smile on her face.

As it's Sunday I'll confess; it's been 4 months since my last work out. With Bea in mind I was inspired to rifle through cupboards to find my gym gear, finally take my new Saucony trainers out of the box and head out in the snow to the gym. An hour later I felt wrecked but like Bea managed a glimmer (or was it a grimace) of a smile. Let's hope I can keep it up because although it felt bad, it also felt oh so good.

Day 19. Willie's Chocolate Factory...well almost.

Last summer I bought Willie's Chocolate Factory Cookbook. Initially I struggled with the constant use of the word 'Cacao', probably because it's an unfamiliar term for me, but the book combines beautifully a selection of recipes, with the story of how this product arrived on our shelves.

Finally today I cooked with this exquisitely packaged Venezuelan Black for the first time, making the chocolate cupcakes featured in the book. Very different to the buttercream topped buns I usually make although not in a bad way.

General view here is that whilst tasty, they are not quite as good as our usual sweeter cakes using Green & Black's chocolate. Sorry Willie! Hopefully the savoury dishes will fair better in the taste test.

Day 18. There's no such thing as universal popularity.

As this is meant to reflect my life, it would be inappropriate to only share photos that imply every day is one long skip through the countryside before cosying up in front of the fire with coffee and homemade cake. This week we received some belated Christmas presents which we haven't quite managed to open yet. The gift cards in the main are as you'd expect: messages of fun and love, hinting at what's inside. Not on my gift though. It's not a big surprise to me. Merely a reminder that it's practically impossible to be universally liked. That said, I won't pretend it doesn't smart just a little.

Day 17. Jack Frost.

Today has produced one long film reel of pics that could all quite easily have been my photo of the day. Starting with the most breathtaking scenes of sunshine and snow, then later in the day a stampede (or should that be flypede) of birds at the bird table, finishing with a truly lovely walk down to the river with Bea after school.

However the snowy frost on the railings of the bridge over the Great Ouse Cut Off Channel was so stunning, so featherlike and delicate, that this just had to be the one. It may be cold but the current weather is definitely the camera's friend.

Day 16. White edged holly.

Just outside the back/front door, I love the way the snow and ice edges the holly.

Day 15. More snow and black ice.

Home.

This sign means I'm less than a mile from home and the snow adds additional contrast against the clear, night sky. 

It was even worth almost falling flat on my arse as I stepped out of the car to take the photo and slipped on a patch of black ice!

Day 14. Predictably predictable.

Snow laden oak trees on Ryston Road

Today it snowed and by the time we arrived home from school several inches had covered the garden. After a quick change of clothes we all headed outside for snowball fights and snowman building. I love the snow. Bea loves the snow. The cat hates the snow.

One thing I do notice at times like this is the impact of having an only child. We tire of the snow long before a sibling would. It's swings and roundabouts I know, and of course I realise how lucky we are to have Bea, but on days like today I think we'd all love an extra Honeybone.

Day 13. Nothing special.

Possibly the most beautiful tree we've had goes up in flames

Typical Sunday. Well, typical for our house anyway. Moments of joy and hilarity bouncing around with surliness and childish rage. Main achievements included burning the Christmas tree along with boxes and boxes of old paperwork, and then later on devouring a sizeable piece of pork belly as a reward for our efforts. As I said, typical Sunday.

Day 12. A recipe for cake.

Pear and Blueberry Cake

This morning Will headed off in the dark for an 11 mile run with Ryston Runners A.C. while Bea and I had breakfast in bed. Totally indulgent and the perfect way to start the weekend. The rest of the day has revolved around the house: clearing the study ready for our new furniture, the usual household chores and several hours blissfully spent in the kitchen. As I type there's a sausage casserole in the slow cooker and we've just tucked into a slice of Pear & Blueberry Cake with our afternoon cuppa. So in today's post I thought I'd share the recipe for this super easy cake which is so jam packed with fruit that I feel one slice would count towards your five a day. Hope you like it.

Pear & Blueberry Cake (courtesy of Nigel Slater **)

130g butter
130g unrefined caster sugar
2 ripe pears (I use a tin of pears in juice instead)
2 large eggs
130g flour
1 tsp baking powder
250g blueberries
A little extra sugar

1. Set the oven at 180C/Gas 4 and line the base of a square 21-22cm cake tin with a piece of baking parchment.

2. Beat the butter and sugar until pale and fluffy. A food mixer will do this far more efficiently than by hand.*

3. Whilst this is happening, peel and core the pears and cut into small chunks.

4. Break the eggs, beat them with a fork and then gradually add them to the butter and sugar.

5. Sift the flour and baking powder together and fold them gently into the mixture. Scrape the batter into the lined cake tin.

6. Rinse the blueberries and then scatter over the cake mixture along with the pear chunks. Sprinkle a couple of tablespoons of sugar over the top.

7. Bake for 50-55 minutes then test with a skewer. If it comes out clean, remove the cake from the oven and leave to cool for ten minutes before turning out of the tin.

8. Delicious when still slightly warm!

* Today is the first time I've made it with a mixer and although I think it is improved, mixing by hand has never impaired the flavour.

** This recipe is taken from Nigel Slater's The Kitchen Diaries.

Day 11. Steak and chips.

Buying local at Sargeant's in Stowbridge

This is my local butcher's, if you can call 5 miles away local. My nearest supermarket is 3 miles away though so a trip to Sargeant's doesn't add much time onto the journey and it's always worth it. Here I get helpful advice on the cut of meat, everything is trimmed and prepared just the way I like it and the provenance of all of the meat is known. Today we did a 'big shop' here, stocking up our fridge and freezer with steak, chops, sausages, burgers and a sizeable piece of belly pork. The pork skin was scored to make it crackle better in the oven and included the initials BH: for Bea Honeybone of course. When we can, we buy from independents, and we're lucky because Downham Market has so many on offer. Better for us, better for the local economy and hopefully better for the animals. Tonight's Desperate Dan sized steak was, without question, worth the extra couple of miles and as it came from one of Jeff's own cattle, from farm to fork the food miles associated with it will still be considerably lower than most pieces of steak you'll find on the shelves at Tesco or Sainsbury's. With chips and peas it was the perfect supper to end a very long week.

Day 10. Constance Naden.

The grounds of Ryston Hall

A friend of mine, Steve Ridley, is one of the leading authorities on Constance Naden, a 19th century poet and philosopher. Through his research he discovered that the house in Birmingham, where Constance grew up, was still standing and in 2009 he was asked to unveil a Blue Plaque to commemorate her life. When I was driving home through the fog this morning, I paused to take a photo of these majestic trees and I was reminded of this beautiful Winter poem; granted it's about frost not fog but the line 'The oak-tree twigs are finely interlaced' is what sprang to mind. I'm immensely proud to know Steve and I hope he appreciates this tribute to one of his literary heroes.

January 28th, 1880 by Constance Naden

No more I long for April's fitful sheen,
For little fluttering lives, that passed in June,
For leaves and flowers, by sad October lost;
Since now in ecstasy mine eyes have seen
The rich blue heaven of a summer noon
O'er dazzling trees, thick-robed with mossy frost.

Amid the leafless hedge-rows jewel-twined,
Great trunks and boughs, not crystal-clad as they,
Like black majestic arches I behold;
All wreathed and crowned with woven sprays, defined
In every tender shade of pearly grey,
And radiant white, that glitters into gold.

Around the mighty limbs all gnarled and bowed,
The oak-tree twigs are finely interlaced;
The willows droop in bright cascades of foam,
Each distant tree, a white and feathery cloud,
The nearer branches, delicately traced,
And gleaming pure against the azure dome.

The winds are hushed - there comes no murmuring breeze
To stir the poplar's lofty sun-lit cone,
Or myriad branchlets of the wide-spread beech:
Through this all-glorious temple of the trees,
As through the house of God, I walk alone;
A silence, as of worship, is their speech.

Day 9. And then were four.

Beautiful blue frames.

As of today when reading and using my laptop, 'this' now looks like 'this'.

Day 8. Where are we now?

Special memories are held in this little wooden box

Today, David Bowie very quietly launched his first single for 10 years, marking his 66th birthday in a surprising way and creating a frenzy of social media commentary. So far the response has been mixed, not least of all perhaps because of the bizarre video that accompanies the track, with Bowie and his unknown companion both reminiscent of the bear from Bo' Selecta. However I'm with music journo Neil McCormick who describes it as "a small, perfectly formed, poetic song, that doesn't quite yield its mysteries and leaves you longing for more." The album is due for release later in the year and I can only hope that as well as seeing Muse and Paul Weller in 2013, that I'll also be adding Bowie to my gig list (let's forget about One Direction - please).

I could write about David Bowie all day; so many Bowie songs provide the soundtrack to significant moments in my life, but I'll focus instead on this.

On this day last year, and again today, Letters of Note, one of my favourite websites, published letters written by David Bowie; one to Bob Grace, the guy at Chrysalis Records who had just signed him to the label and the other, a reply to one of his first pieces of U.S. fan mail. This got me thinking about the fact that for most of us it's increasingly rare to receive handwritten post so I dug out some of the special letters I've received in the past. Memories sparked simply by seeing distinctive handwriting on tattered envelopes: my Mum's feminine script, a friend's precise block writing. I can't imagine keeping emails in the same way, and tweets and Facebook posts will be lost in the digital ether. I'm going to take inspiration from this and write a letter to my Mum; like me she loves to get post.

Day 7. Chrome wheeled, fuel injected.

Well worth the wait

It's fair to say that social media is a big part of my life. As a constant talker and regular home worker, Twitter in particular allows me to engage with people on my terms, and with minimal disruption to my working day. It's here that I've forged digital friendships with like-minded people; friendships that revolve around a love of food, music and pithy commentary. Although mainly food. I've blogged about food, exchanged recipes, shared and sought out hints and tips and drooled over other people's #foodporn. So today there was much excitement when I spotted the Parcel Force guy reversing up our drive to deliver this fuel injected beauty: my KitchenAid. It's a long awaited arrival and what better way to test drive it than with Springsteen on the iPod and a batch of banana, chocolate and fudge muffins. Baby, we were so born to run.

Day 6. Horse riders and naturists...you see it all at Holkham beach

Horses at Holkham

When you arrive on Holkham Beach it's hard not to be impressed by its breathtaking beauty. Popular with dog walkers, in fact any walkers, the beach also plays host to naturists, although thankfully it was a little chilly for such sights today. For horse riders, its four miles of golden sand are the perfect place to canter, gallop, trot and frolic in the surf; even the Household Cavalry head to Holkham when they stay in Norfolk during the summer. Now that really is a sight to behold.

Day 5. Twelfth night.

This has been my favourite tree

According to tradition, all Christmas decorations should be taken down by the end of Twelfth Night, January 5th, or they must stay up for the rest of the year to prevent bad luck. It was believed that the foliage, originally used to decorate homes during the festive period, contained tree-spirits that needed protection during the harsh mid-winter. However if they weren't released back into the countryside not only would they wreak havoc in the house in which they remained but the vegetation would fail to grow come Spring and agriculture would suffer.

In this region, working the land is a mainstay of the economy so down they come and let's hope 2013 is a prosperous year for Norfolk's farming community.

Day 4. It's a date.

Love my MacBook and love my diary

I spend most of my working day joined at the fingertip to either my MacBook, iPhone or iPad so it's fair to say I'm a fan of digital. However I have something to confess: I just can't get along with online calendars. It's not that I haven't tried. Last year for the first time I didn't have a paper diary; I managed my home and work life via an online calendar. Well, in truth through several online calendars. And not so much managed, as ricocheted my way from one missed home appointment to another. It was always going to be home that suffered. So yesterday I admitted defeat or accepted the inevitable and bought myself a paper diary. Its pages are already adorned with much anticipated trips, events and celebrations and for me putting pen to paper is always a pleasure. I'm sure this is a marmite subject but when it comes to managing my time, paper really is best.

Day 3. Take a punt

We're not often approached by punt touts when we visit Cambridge. I like to think it's because we have a look about us that tells them we're not tourists. In reality it's probably more to do with the fact that we avoid eye contact and head determinedly towards our destination, usually Teri-Aki, as we did today.

If you've never travelled in a square-ended, flat bottomed boat that's propelled by a 5m long pole, then head to Scudamores at Magdelene Bridge where you can take either a 'do-it-yourself' or 'chauffeur driven' punt along the College Backs, on the River Cam. On a warm summer's day it's a peaceful and often entertaining way to while away the hours.

Day 2. West Norfolk sunrise

If we can find the right property it's pretty much decided that we'll move house in 2013. This morning I was up before everyone else and watched the sunrise, coffee in hand, again questioning the wisdom of our decision. Big skies and beautiful views. The two dots of light to the right of the left hand tree come from one of the neighbouring farms.

Day 1. Give Dad An Earache

Bea has been learning the violin at school and we said she could have her own once she'd been playing for at least 6 months. Today her Windsor Half Size arrived and although it's relatively cheap and cheerful it's still rather beautiful. Thanks to the marvel that is 't'internet', I now know how to use rosin to prepare a bow and I can tune the four keys on a half violin - G, D, A and E - hence the mnemonic. Can't say the cat's that impressed which is surprising given the fact many people believe the two things can sound alike.