Memories for dessert

Back in June, on a day when the sun was trying to burst through a hoop of tracing paper we went to Dungeness.

Dungeness, the only place in England designated  a "desert". At the far south eastern tip where the land flattens and the horizon multiplies. Other worldly, weather beaten, shingle beach with rusting shacks, railway carriages and fishing boats. Home to, amongst other things, a nuclear power station, 5 lighthouses at one time or another and over 600 plant species. It is a very special place with a unique atmosphere, I am struggling to define. Perhaps it is the power station quietly throbbing in the distance. Perhaps it's the proximity of Romney Marsh, ethereal green flatlands ~ threaded with waterways cloaked in sea mists. Dickens' location for Pip's first encounter with Magwitch.. Perhaps it's the alien nature of the landscape, the crunch of shingle underfoot. Shingle peppered with plants, clumps and carpets of colour, unexpectedly beautiful. The colours of Dungeness are thrilling set, as they are, against the neutral shingle~sea~sky horizontals.

You are wondering? 

Well first of all I have been economic with information as it wasn't simply the usual tribe of me, Mr. Lane and Boodle on this expedition. For this outing we were joined by none other than my faraway brother! All the way from Melbourne via Finland! I can't suppress a smile even as I write this three months later, so great the pleasure to be together again for a few snatched days.

And yes OF COURSE WE DID...

...visit Prospect Cottage. The much feted home and garden of the late, great film director Derek Jarman. We have been several times before and its allure never fades. A garden bursting through the shingle, beds, such as they are defined by pebble borders, flotsam and jetsam sculptures. Rusted boat jumble with garlands of old rubber washers... 

I can't tell you how lovely it all was. 

Fish & Chips out of newspaper on the beach and just to be...

...with my best boys...

~~~

Looking through the pictures again is as fortifying as a whole bowlful of  favourite pudding (possibly warm raspberry bakewell tart) with lashings of cream and seconds...memories for dessert.

~x~

Summer slips...

All at once Summer has slipped away and Autumn's arrival is heralded with cool winds, an abundance of fruits heavy in the hedgerows and a yearning for a new colour palette to paint my days...

* image on the left by Sharyn Cairns, styled by Geraldine Munoz

**Image on the right from L O L I T A

Dark and warm

~ caramel, chocolate, antique rose, warm black, blackberry, elderberry, conker, acorn, sage, ripened wheat and a hint of golden yarrow~

I love that my colour palette flowed from food to botanica! Quite unintentional and yet somehow perfect....

 ~And now the roses are tapestry stitched~

~The berries are hips and haws and crabs~

~The posies are transfers on china~

~The jewels that sparkle are early morning meadow treasure~

 Yes! The secret lacing society works silently during the night to thrill the Boodle and I each morning with dew encrusted settings dangling from the limbs of summer brown grasses

Early morning mist settles around the house, there is a hush, the landscape beyond is veiled. Sometimes I feel like a time traveller standing and staring, wondering which century I'm in and who is standing alongside me in another time...

...and I see pattern everywhere...even the tire treads on the tractor leaving their muddy chevron trails.

The logs we have been breaking our backs to move from the woods to the barn will soon be merrily crackling in the woodburner.

The trees in the orchard are glowing with russet baubles. I thank my lucky stars to have been born here in temperate England where the four seasons are quite distinct. I long for the signs we are shifting from one to the next, you can almost smell the change before it happens. I adore seasonal food. This weekend will see me pickling and jamming...the alchemy of it! I suppose I find the rhythm of it soothing, back to repetition and pattern making of another sort I suppose?

~~~

I almost forgot...the title of this post is "Summer slips..." I have been musing over the inference . I love the idea that Autumn is somehow Summers' petticoat, giving body and substance, all ruffles and contrast...

Here's to A u t u m n

Wishing you warmth

--x--

Postcard from Norfolk

I am a fan of the humble postcard.

 In this digital age of Facebook updates and Instagram (which I also love !) the postcard seems to me, an altogether different proposition, one that requires a certain sort of mindset and discipline. From the act of selection, to the writing and posting you are the editor in chief of a mini, and, uniquely personal holiday review. Whilst there may be hundreds of identical postcards floating around the postal system, each one is individually crafted. Some may be superficial and perfunctory, some full of longing for left behind lovers, some, wildly descriptive, some full of self congratulation, some covered in illustrations and doodles, some carry special messages in code...all are franked and dated and adorned with a stamp. Oh the possibilities, I love their potential as they arrive on the doormat. First a smile followed by a glance at the image. Then, flicking over, words that have been carefully squeezed onto the available white space...kisses that wrap around the address box. What then? to be tucked onto a mantle or sill, reminding all of your absence. Perhaps to be tucked into a book only to be found many years later by  a different generation or random purchaser at a jumble sale. 

~~~

When we were clearing out and packing up the family home we stumbled over a whole book of postcards...some of them were, in fact, images of long forgotten relatives, mostly black and white, featuring them in extraordinary locations along with images of municipal parks and buildings...fascinating. Every one, for me, contained the first line of a novel, chapters in lives I know little or nothing of...

~~~

Back to Norfolk, first I should say that we stayed in a much loved family cottage belonging to a friend of a friend...

I was so at home, from the moment I stepped over the threshold ~ I was utterly charmed, it felt so familiar and cosy. 

I am smiling as I remember it and all its sweet detail...lets face it, anywhere boasting a dolly tub with artfully positioned feather at the front door...

 

 Norfolk has such big skies ~ 

far more expansive than the ones we are used to up on our windy Wealden Lane. How I love to discover new parts of this green and pleasant land, though I confess to still feeling a tiny bit disloyal to our beloved County of Kernow. The early morning walks I shared with Boodle from the cottage were heavenly...

Our days spent visiting the "Staithes" long walks, swimming in the sea, picnics and dusky sunsets watching boats...oh and crabs, lots of crabs!

We visited Holt, Burnham and Blakeney in search of tasty local produce and were rewarded handsomely...plus we were treated to book sales, antiques and gorgeous streets at every turn...

 I love the texture and patterns of Norfolk...in my mind's eye I saw Angie Lewin prints everywhere...

...Above all else I adored the evenings...

...Raise my hands, paint my spirit gold...

 --x--

I am laughing at my extraordinarily long postcard! Thank you for staying so long, you are too kind!