Twas November 2nd and our tummies did rumble, When mum said: “I’ve got it! I’m making a crumble!” So she sautéed some apples And some blackberries of course With a small pinch of cinnamon In a syrupy sauce, Then she made golden crumble And spooned it on top, Then into the oven That crumble did pop And…
We scoffed the whole lot!
Melt 30g butter in a saucepan together with 30g Demerara Sugar until beginning to caramelise;
Add 300g of sliced apples (I used a fairly tart red variety called ‘Braeburn)’ and 1 punnet (approx 120g) blackberries – add a dash of cinnamon and sautee until tender;
In a separate bowl add 120g plain flour and 60g caster sugar. Lightly rub 60g cold butter into the flour and sugar mixture with fingertips until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs
Arrange sautéed fruit in an oven proof dish and spoon crumble mixture on top – add some porridge oats if liked for extra texture and a sprinkling of Demerara sugar
Bake in a preheated oven for 20 mins or golden and bubbling!
The course content is not only helpful, but wonderfully inspiring and at the end of every session, there is an exercise to try. The most recent was to read the classic ‘Jabberwocky’ by Lewis Carroll – writer of the Alice in Wonderland books – and use it as a basis for writing your own story or poem.
In case you haven’t read it, ‘Jabberwocky’ is a poem which intersperses plain English with totally nonsensical, made-up words resulting in a totally brilliant bit of balderdash which the reader can still understand!
For the sake of time, I decided to stick largely to the original text, but try to come up with my own nonsensical words in place of Carroll’s! And here is the result.
T’was flinkle, and the smurky glurg, Did chire and chunder in the floom, All boggy were the swampaleeze, And the qualm fligs downrume.
‘Beware the Gringlecrunch, my son, His knees go creak, his knuckles crack. Beware the Howling Jowl and run From terrifying Bladdersmack!’
He took his runsome sword in hand, Longtime the vexious foe he sought, So rested he by the Plickadee And stood a while in thought.
And as in flonder thought he stood The Gringlecrunch with breath most foul, Came hortling through the greeping wood Skarooming with a howl!
One two! One two! And through and through, The runsome blade went Bammleboff! He left it dead, and with its head He went marading off!
‘”And hast thou slain the Gringlecrunch? Come to my arms my lubbish lad, Oh vumshious night, Skooreeh! Skoorite! My heart is minsely glad.
T’was flinkle, and the smurky glurg, Did chire and chunder in the floom, All boggy were the swampaleeze, And the qualm fligs downrume.
I found this exercise heaps of fun, but also challenging. Believe it or not, it’s trickier than you might think to to come up with a word that sounds vaguely recognisable, whilst at the same time being utter nonsense – especially whilst sticking to a rhyming scheme.
So in honour of National Poetry Day, (which is tomorrow by the way) why not have a go at writing your own rendition of ‘Jabberwocky?’ I’d love to hear how you get on!
Somewhere between week two and week three, the magic happened.
The puppies’ eyes began to open – changing from small stitched-together slits to inky pools of personality. The transformation was gradual, but as profound as if each pup was suddenly coming to life – becoming a real pup! Eyes really are the windows to the soul.
With the awakening of this new sense, came an increasing independence. Suddenly, these pups were noticing us. (By the way, being noticed by a puppy is a most endearing experience). And actually noticing there was a world beyond the whelping box. And it wasn’t long before their tottering legs began to follow.
First they would edge to the front of the box and squeal like a flock of seagulls. Then, if the gate was open, they learned to sort of dangle over the edge and then belly-flop out.
At first, their wobbly legs prevented them from getting anywhere too fast. Their eyes were still widening and getting used to focusing.
But that stage didn’t last for long. Soon, every nook and cranny in the lounge became a new place to explore. Or wee in.
Nathan often bemoans the amount of cushions that we have in our house (buying new cushions is the next best thing to redecorating, in my book) – but let it be said here, that those superfluous cushions were about to become jolly handy. Suddenly, they were blockades. The perfect ‘scrunchable’ tool for stuffing into any puppy-sized holes that were out of bounds. Like underneath the armchairs. Or down the side of the bookcase. Or over by the plug sockets.
By this time, each of the puppies had a forever home too. It was a bit like a jigsaw puzzle. I don’t know exactly how it happened, but somehow, each new home seemed to be the perfect match.
Playful Holly, with her peachy hue, was going to a wonderful, family with two young boys and a baby on the way!
Red collar – Holly
Handsome Ralph, with his smart coffee-coloured collar, would be going to live by the sea with his sweet, doting pup-parents.
Brown Collar – Ralph
Cute little Lottie, our smallest darkest girl, (aka Sassy P) was going to a lovely family of Labrador lovers, to grow up with 11-yr-old twin girls.
Pink Collar – Lottie
Sweet, comical Steve, with his Andrex Pup Face, was going to a fun-loving family with three growing children. They had recently lost a beloved Labrador.
Blue Collar – Steve (official name tbc)
Cuddly, chilled out Leo was going to live with an incredibly calm lady who was looking for a hiking buddy.
Green Collar – Leo (official name tbc)
And adorable Rudi, our smallest, darkest boy was going to a wonderful couple who had recently lost a 17 year-old family dog.
Purple Collar – Rudi
Which left one sweet, teddy-bear faced girl for us to keep!
Meet Honey!
Lime Green Collar…Honey! Sweeter than mum’s apple pie! Teddy-face Honey, (top)
But there was still a lot of growing to do before they would be ready to venture off into the big wide world….
Until then, enjoy a video of Steve, auditioning for the cutest pup in the world awards.
We all took a deep breath as the advertisement went live. Homes wanted for six adorable pups. (Six, not seven, because we were still debating whether or not to keep a girl).
“What happens if we don’t sell them all?” Nathan said, a look of mild panic on his face.
“What happens if we do?” I said – cuddling one of them close. “How on earth are we going to say goodbye to these little guys?”
“Trust me – in eight weeks time, when they’re doing their business all over the place, you won’t be saying that!” Nathan chuckled.
I couldn’t imagine ever being tired of them. They were growing more adorable by the day.
By the end of week one, they had doubled in size (and cuteness), their features becoming increasingly more pup-like.
They still behaved in a mole-like manner, guided predominantly by their sense of smell. They were remarkably determined though, and had developed some stealthy ways of getting to mum for a feed, including burrowing beneath their litter-mates to get to the teats on the underside of her belly.
When full up with milk, they would often roll down mum’s sloping stomach, as though drunk, which was very amusing to watch. Who needs Christmas TV when you have a box full of pups to keep you entertained?
Enjoy this snippet of the pups feeding
Apart from the sleepless nights, the workload during those first two weeks was relatively straightforward. Amber was the real hero- feeding her hungry brood every two hours or so. We were mostly needed to keep an eye on things, and provide a pair of helping hands when Amber needed them. We were the night watchmen- keeping tabs on the whereabouts of all the pups and helping Amber in and out of the whelping box, making sure she didn’t accidentally step on any of the pups during her route in and out.
Caring for Amber was a top priority. Her voracious appetite was back with a vengeance. With seven hungry pups to feed, it was hardly surprising. It was also imperative to make sure she had sufficient time out of the whelping box, just to rest. Our normal ‘no sofa’ rule had suddenly gone right out of the window!
Daily duties also included keeping the whelping box and bedding as clean as possible. The constant rumbling of the washing machine became the soundtrack of our Christmas!
In some ways, this monumental disruption to our lives had come at the perfect time. We all had over two weeks annual leave. We had nowhere particular to be. There was an abundance of Christmas films to watch on TV and a fridge filled with leftover Turkey and other Christmas fair , which seemed to cater perfectly for our strange lack of routine. Rather than cause added complication to our Christmas, the pups forced us to slow down and fall into a simpler existence, a benefit none of us had anticipated.
And then, the enquiries began to trickle in, slowly at first, then increasing to a steady stream. Our daughter Grace was appointed Director of Enquiries . And an excellent job she did too.
And my worries about saying goodbye to the pups were quickly allayed …Reading messages from families who had recently lost beloved dogs; or sweet young couples who lived by the sea; or a hiking enthusiast, looking for a loyal, loving companion to walk with, began a shift in my thinking. Suddenly I felt as though I were part of something of immense value- helping to bring into the world not just a wonderful pet, but a friend. Suddenly it wasn’t such a bittersweet task – it was a wonderful privilege.
And by the beginning of week three, just as the puppies’ eyes were beginning to slowly blink open, we had six wonderful new homes lined up for each and every one of the pups. And life with seven pups that were now waddling about, was about to get even more interesting!
Leo- first pup to be photographed eyes open!
Hope you enjoyed this post. Join me next week for more of our puppy adventures and find out what happened when the pups started venturing out of the whelping box!
In just under two weeks time, on 12th May, it’s National Limerick Day, where people post their favourite Limericks on Social Media, under the hashtag: #NationalLimerickDay!
Why May 12th? It was the birthday of the English Poet, Edward Lear, who was the king of limericks, making them popular in the early 1800’s.
A limerick? What’s a Limerick? I hear you ask. How do I write one? And why should I bother?.
And here is my answer!
It’s fun to sit down with a brew, And come up with a limerick, or two, It’s a juggle of thoughts, A word-puzzle of sorts, It’s a word-nerdy thing you can do!
Hahaha! A slightly silly response, granted. But here’s my logic: The very best way to learn how to write a Limerick is by reading them!
But just to be clear, here are a few features of the Limerick:
Limericks are humerous, rhyming, five-line poems, with the pattern: AABBA
They often tell a little anecdote or story – which makes them really fun to write.
Like this:
There once was a kitty so smart, Stealing food was his devious art, He would pilfer your chicken, Next your ham, he’d be nickin’ Why, he’d even come back for your tart!
Our pets seem to feature quite regularly in my limericks – but, honestly, you can write a limerick about pretty much anything.
It could be educational:
Seeds are remarkable things, Some have spikes, some rotate, some have wings, Dandelion is cute, With its seed parachute 🪂 But the best one of all sorta' PINGS!
- you could even write a limerick about…writing limericks!
Writing lim'ricks is tricky, but fun, Make sure lines five and two rhyme with one, Add a killer last line, (If it helps, drink some wine!) Don't give up, you'll be glad when it's done!
So what are you waiting for? You've got just under two weeks to get scribbling!
Here are some tips to get you started!
Pick one subject to write about- it could be your pet, a silly situation, a favourite film or book or even about yourself;
Try and nail your last line early on – this is the line that ties everything together, and if done well, really gets the giggles;
Remember, lines one, two and five all have to rhyme – so pick a common sound for your word-ending. Be creative with it! In some instances, forced rhyme can work quite well! (See last line of the second example below)
If you’re stuck, try to avoid abandoning your subject idea altogether. Instead, walk away for a bit. There are more ways than one to say something. Limericks are like a puzzle. Often the answer comes when you’re busy doing something else, like walking the dog, or doing the washing up.
A rhyming thesaurus can be really useful for those word endings, especially if you’re missing a beat or syllable
Oh, a rhyming thesaurus is grand, It can help when your limericks are bland, It can give you word power At the e-leventh hour, With names like: Pituitary Gland
There once was a cute little kitty, Who would sit around looking so pretty, But this act was a lie, He was really a spy, No you should not believe cats one bitty.
Moses, looking like butter wouldn’t melt…
I hope this post has inspired you and that you’re running for your notebook and pencil as we speak! Perhaps you’ll be brave enough to post them on #NationalLimerickDay!
There was no denying it, Amber, was acting strange.
“I think she’s close!” I said, googling the tell-tale signs of a pregnant dog, about to give birth.
Off her food? – Tick
Unsettled? – Up and down like a yo-yo!
Panting – Intermittently
Nesting – Obsessively
Clingy? – Like Velcro!
“But she’s still got five days to go!” objected Nathan, “It won’t happen just yet – surely?”
All the same, I slept downstairs on the sofa that night, just in case. All through the night, I kept a keen eye on Amber, curled up in the whelping box that we’d just managed to assemble in the nick of time. I don’t know who was more restless – Amber or I?
The next morning, just as I was about to go grocery shopping, at around 8:45am, I noticed a mucus-stained puddle on the lounge floor. Amber’s water’s had broken.
It just happened to be a Tuesday. My day off. Thank you Lord!
I went and collected our youngest from school – there was no way she could miss this! There are some lessons in life that simply can’t be learned at school.
As circumstance would have it, our two eldest daughters were also able to be present. It was five days earlier than expected – but it felt like the planets had aligned.
At 9:55am, the first puppy appeared, it’s tiny little mouth gaping open and shut, as it drew in its first few breaths in the outside world.
We’d seen YouTube videos of live births, and read up on every detail – from counting placentas, to cutting cords. We had all the equipment ready. The clamp. The surgical scissors. A pile of towels . A weighing scale. Even a heat lamp akin to those you see in a chicken coop! But up to now, it had all been theory. Now – this was it! Without any dress rehearsal, we suddenly had to rise to the occasion. There were no official Vetinary Surgeons present. Just us. My husband, our three daughters and me.
And of course, our star girl – Amber! This was her first time too. Nobody had briefed her on what to do. She hadn’t watched any videos. But instinctively, she knew. Licking, nudging, feeding – such a clever Mumma!
The first three pups came fairly quickly. And so we soon found our stride too. We all assumed different roles at different times. One of us clamping, another cutting the cord, one of us weighing, the other recording the details, such as gender, weight and time of delivery and assigning each pup a little colour-coded temporary collar. It was all hands on deck. It was mucky, raw, earthy. It was one of the most vivid and incredible experiences we’ve ever shared. Nothing can quite prepare you for the sight of that first pup in it’s sac – and for the sounds and the earthy smell of new life.
Fortunately, there was a gap of around 90 minutes between the birth of pups number three and four and so we were able to stop for a well-earned cuppa! I’m sure Amber needed a breather too!
And by four o’clock that afternoon – there were seven! Three girls and four boys, eyes and ears as yet unopen, rooting around like little moles – and squeaking!
We weren’t supposed to name them – (we mustn’t get too attached) – but of course, it felt clunky and impersonal, referring to them as a colour. So an off the cuff ‘nick-name’ was assigned as soon as each puppy was born. Steve, James, Rosette (Rosie for short), Holly, Leo, Sadie and Ralph.
We spent the evening happily helping them latch on, marveling at the seven little heads and tails suckling all in a row. By now, their fur had gone from newborn-slime to buffed velvet!
Amber seemed relaxed and settled – sleeping softly while her babies suckled.
We positioned a single mattress next to the whelping box and took turns on nightly puppy-patrol. It was 10th December. Instead of a Christmas Tree, we had a box full of puppies to marvel at. We sensed that we were in for an unusual Christmas.
And little did we know that the fun had only just begun!
(Hope you enjoyed this post! Look out for the next instalment, coming very soon!)
There once was a sweet, little Kitty,
Who would sit around looking so pretty,
But this act was a lie,
He was really a Spy,
No, you should not believe cats one bitty!
Angela Jelf 