Friday Faffing
Aside

I have been looking for a silver or bronze top to wear with a black skirt which has delicate silver and bronze embroidery. The local posh frock shop had a silver top which looked like a circus so I tried the up- market second- hand shop and found a great bronze silk shirt in new condition which fits perfectly. I shall just swish it gently in liquid soap for delicates, and wear it to dinner on Saturday. Result!

Don’t you find anticipation is half the fun? I’m anticipating our Festive meal on the 17th. Decisions have to be made:

Festive Menu

First Courses


Scottish smoked salmon and caper terrine with a lemon drizzle and whole meal toast
Roasted butternut squash soup with just a hint of chilli
Pan-fried chicken livers with smoked bacon lardoons and a balsamic dressing
Duck and pork pate with red onion marmalade and toast

Main Courses

Traditional roast Somerset turkey with chipolatas, chestnut and hazelnut stuffing and fresh cranberry sauce
Daube of local venison slow cooked in red wine and juniper berries, finished with bitter chocolate
Sage- crusted Somerset lamb with a red currant jus
Bouillabaisse with red mullet, mussels and scallops
Festive vegetable, apricot and Stilton strudel

All served with fresh seasonal winter vegetables

Desserts & Cheese

Christmas pudding with brandy sauce
Chestnut Meringue mess
Chocolate and orange roulade
Poaches pears in mulled wine with a ginger and cranberry coulis
Somerset cheese platter with apple chutney and oaten biscuits
(Somerset Brie, Black Tower and Exmoor Blue)


To Finish

Coffee, tea or infusions with chocolate snowballs

Those are the choices – not the whole menu:)

The Garden of England

Story contd.



William’s new job meant a move from Surrey to Kent. All I knew about it was it was meant to be ‘the garden of England’ and there were lots of oast houses for the brewing of hops. Traditionally East Enders would move lock stock and barrel to Kent for the hop- picking season.

The house I had seen advertised in the Daily Telegraph was situated betwixt Tunbridge Wells (spelt with a u) and Tonbridge (spelt with an o). It had schools, shops, woods and a pretty green with church so William thought the area would be ideal. I couldn’t believe how different it seemed from Surrey and this worked in our favour because incredibly this house was in our price bracket.




Eileen – one of my girl friends was happy to have # 1 son whilst we went to inspect the house. First impressions were good – Tunbridge Wells (Royal TW as it liked to be known) was a spa town with lots of history, the famous Pantiles and a large hilly common. About two miles south was Southborough and we drove up a quiet cul de sac where the house was. It was Victorian, painted a pale grey with turquoise trimmings. By the side, on a cobbled path was a stable with an apple loft above. It was flanked by large holly trees and there was an unattractive, high laurel hedge in front. It was what they called a town house with the briefest bit of garden in front and a large walled garden at the rear.



I was delighted to see on the far side of the house was a path leading to a lockable door – ideal for taking the pram to the rear entrance. Daily walks were the norm in those days for mother and child. We walked down the path and let ourselves into the garden. It was very neglected but there was a large old pear tree which gave dappled sunlight and old apple trees. The garden was divided by an enormous yew hedge and there were rose beds and flower beds all tangled and full of weeds. Behind the hedge was an old vegetable garden. It was all a bit daunting.



The last person to live there had been an old lady and her housekeeper. A speculator had bought it, redecorated and put it on the market. I couldn’t wait to see inside. We returned to the front entrance and went through heavy double doors to a glass paned door. The entrance hall had a central staircase; the drawing room was on the left and the dining room on the right. They were both large with fireplaces and the dining room had a hatch to the kitchen. Behind the drawing room was another room which looked out onto the back garden and there was also a fireplace here. At the end of the hall was another entrance with an inner and outer door and all doors had heavy bolts top and bottom. Clearly the old lady had been very security conscious



There was a loo with the requisite bolts inside and outside, a larder and then the door to the kitchen where an ideal boiler was situated. Another door led down two steps in
to the garden room which had another little room off it. The remaining door in the hall went down to the cellar which the people next door with a similar house, had converted into a basement flat. Ours was given over to what seemed a lifetime’s store of coal and coke. There were also fire places in the bedrooms.



Half way up the stairs was a large bathroom and separate loo. The bathroom had a pretty old fireplace and would have been the* tweenie’s bed-room* On the first floor were five bed and dressing rooms- as they put it, and outside the rooms were mahogany let- down side tables for the maid to put the breakfast tray before opening the door. I always meant to count the doors in that house and never quite made it.



We were exhausted by the time we got back in the car.



‘What did you think?’ I asked William.



‘It’s a very good house.’ He said positively. I sighed regretfully.



‘It’s just too big.’



‘I suppose so.’ William knew his limitations and he was never a DIY man.



By the time we reached home I had mentally moved in. That house was crying out for a family. My family. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.



‘On the other hand William…’



*tweeeny – house maid who lived between stairs.