Saturday 24th September 2016

And at the weekend, Jelltex and Jools did rest. Or we did this week anyway. The last two weekends have been either Open House or the Heritage Weekend, and we were pretty busy, going to churches, snapping them and so on. And with next week being a return to the frozen north, I felt like staying at home, not taking to many pictures. I say that, there is always the temptation to go to take shots, but in the end, the chores we had meant that staying home was just as attractive.

There was shopping to do, I dropped Jools off at Tesco and I went to the butcher in Preston, a trip which would take about an hour, if they did not engage me in conversation too much that is.

It still feels like summer, but with the harvest safely in, and the fields all ready for either the winter crop or for next years to be sowed, the countryside had a brown tinge, but above were clear skies once again.

The boys were in good form, Paul hopeful of a Chelsea victory later in the day, when he would escape his mother-in-law and hide in the pub. He would be disappointed if he did go, as The Arse thrashed Chelski 3-0, and should have had double that. I buys steak, pies, crown of lamb, sausages, burgers; the usual really. And a quater of a wheel of cheese as Paul would not shut up about what a good bargain at four quid it was. Ok, you win.

As I pulled up back at Tesco, Jools was coming out with a trolley laden with stuff, we transfer that to the boot and go home for breakfast, then prepare to do the big jobs: beer and cake.

It has been some years now since we did some home brew, but me mate Shags' efforts have inspired me, so the plan was to make a Christmas Ale; just a Norfolk Nog kit with added allspice really, but it should be good in three months.

We sterilise the kit, boil water, then mix the wort, add the spice and yeast; stir for 5 minutes and then put the lid on. Simple.

We should bottle it next week, and have 40 bottles of strong Christmas Ale.

Next up was making the first of our two Christmas cakes. It is three months to the big event, and like spouts, need preparing and cooking well in advance. At least with a mixer it is easier than in days of domestic science class, so I mix the butter and sugar then add the eggs, fold in the flour and finally the fruit and booze, which had been sitting in the same bowl for some hours, so the fruit will be nice and boozy.

Then begins four and a half hours slow cooking, which will fill the house with fine smells.

And that really is it; the afternoon was spent listening to football: Norwich went top of the league after beating Burton 3-1, which is the only result that really matters.

We have insalata caprese for dinner, along with more of the cheese and chuntney bread, which we dipped in the balsamic vinegar/olive oil mix once we had eaten the cheese and tomatoes.

On TV was an odd thing: BBC gave the controls of BBC to to; Kieth Richards, who talked in a rather Rowley Birkin kind of way, things which seemed to pop into his head, then folllowed a TV show, or some clips, or a rare Johnny Cash documentary from the 1960s. It was headspinning stuff, but Spike Milligan in Q8, inbetween the mumbles and clouds of smoke, it was rather good. There's more tonight, including a showing of The Man who Would be King.