The mist closes around the path like a demon hovering near the living in the hope of spiriting one of them away. It wreathes false hope and mischief in a trail of ethereal wishes that chase away the living to warmth hearths and yet I linger here like an echo of a life that is almost spent in its purpose. I shiver in the mist like a leaf on the cold northern wind and now; how I wish it were once again the spring.

Took these tonight while out with Robbie. Very slippery out tonight with paths no better than sheet of ice. Even Robbie ended up spreadeagled at one point like Bambi on the frozen lake.

The Bank of England announced a third dose of electronic money creation to boost the flagging UK economy. Expressing concern that the eurozone crisis, together with George Osborne's austerity programme and a rationing of credit, will stifle growth in 2012, the Bank said it would expand its quantitative easing programme (QE) by £50bn over the next three months.

It has now pumped £325bn, equivalent to about a fifth of GDP, into the financial system since Britain plunged into recession three years ago.

Here we go again and reading some of the comments in the papers is so funny. QE is the financial rape of middle England, the old and the future generations. By the time it all goes belly up (and it will,) the few elite that benefitted will be long gone to their tax havens.

Selection of comments

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing repeatedly and hoping/wishing for a different outcome. Quantitative easing has been tried repeatedly by the Bank of England and by any standard or measure has not worked. I can see no rational reason how or why it should work this time.

Quantitative easing will have a calamitous outcome for this country in the long term, spiralling inflation and very, very high interest rates.

If it prudent for the government and the Bank of England to print money in hard times, then it must be logical for the individual to print money for themselves when they are hard up or have no money.

When you hold such corrupt philosophic principles, you can't help but get the economics wrong.

Ignorance is not immoral, but being unwilling to learn from experience is; it becomes a crime when the people who refuse to learn are dictating the economy with an iron fist. Hooray !! Let´s print more money ! Never mind the lessons of history. Apparently we are the first civilisation to successfully debase a currency and thereby create jobs and wealth. Alchemy at its best.

Instead of giving QE money to the banks, why not give every family in the UK 10,000 pounds. Seven thousand per average family to pay off their debt and three thousand to spend and give the economy a boost?

Savoury quiche

The best quiche in my opinion is made with double cream and ewe's milk cheese. Don’t make low fat healthy versions as they don’t work. Just eat smaller slices.
Line a large quiche dish with shortcrust pastry. I use a 13 inch dish.

Crumble or dice finely 100g of mature cheddar and 100g of Ossau-Irati ewe’s milk cheese. For me it is important not to grate the cheese.

Whisk lightly 3 eggs with enough double cream to make the liquid up to 300ml. Season well with pepper and a small amount of salt (remember the bacon has loads.)
For fillings (it is important that all fillings are partly cooked before adding to the quiche) for me these 3 work the best but the skies the limit really

1. Lightly fry 200g good quality smoked dry cured bacon and when cool roughly chop.

2. 100g smoked salmon and 100g fine asparagus. Save the tips of the asparagus and fry the remainder chopped in a little butter. When cooked add the smoked salmon.

3. 200g broccoli lightly poached.

Mix savoury ingredients with the cheese and add to quiche dish. Pour over egg and cream mix and add the asparagus tips, small sprigs of broccoli or tomato slices to the top and bake at 170C (fan) 180C non fan oven, 325 F or gas mark 3 for approx 40-45 minutes.

It is important not to overcook a quiche to preserve its texture. It should resemble a firm omelette when cut and not scrambled eggs. Eat warm or cold. This will keep for the day of cooking plus 3 more. Do not freeze.

They looked up and saw the full moon for the last time that night. The clouds swept overhead in thickening swathes of grey-white flowing sheets. Snow was coming fast on the keening wind. Already the falling temperature began to peel away the warmth that delimited them. It pierced their cloaks and undergarments to cradle despair onto their bones. Yet even through this wretchedness was the song of hope alive in their hearts. Neither fell voice nor evil intent could stop the flow of good intention advancing. The wind screamed and hurled heavy flakes of snow at them like icy hornets enraged by an inquisitive innocent poking a stick in their nest.

Yadafast turned to Razana and shouted above the elemental roar, “I cannot survive this. I must have shelter. We cannot progress this night. Let us retreat.”

Razana was made of more malleable metal than Yadafast and replied, “We will go on. We will not stop, nor will we retreat. Be a man Yadafast and weather this night and I say we will come into a brighter dawn.”

Ranzast hearing this protested, “So the innocent must perish though they have done nothing wrong.”  It matters not to you the inequality, only the law. You blame the Yazata for all the problems in the world though you are also a member of a despised community. Weary not my thoughts with this. We will stop and seek shelter and see the wood burn away to ash in blue-yellow flares. The answer to this riddle then is fire; we must glow in its embrace. Razana I will not be trifled with; I am not some underling lord who thinks to be above himself. Stop now!”

The company halted.

The sky tonight - lots of planes (well 2-3 circling around) but a beautifully clear blue sky. I took these around 5.30 this evening.

We’ve had a small amount of snow over the weekend but nowhere anything like they said was going to fall. I took Robbie out expecting to take some photos but all I managed where these shots of the India Mill chimney. One on the way out and one on the way back. Still nice chimney!

For me personally it symbolises a time when we could actually do things without cost or other considerations coming into the equation. A time when what we built endured and also a reminder that what we do today will never equal the industry that was seen then. It is probably a bit of an anachronism these days, but as it is a listed building it has to be preserved.

Here’s a bit of the history.

The mill - and particularly the chimney - was a wonderful example of the flamboyant confidence of the Lancashire cotton industry in the middle of the 19th century. The chimney modelled around St Marks Campanile in Venice was opened  in May 1868 by the Marquis of Hartington was a very grand affair with lords and ladies and a vast exhibition of paintings and sculptures covering three floors. Many of the paintings, by Gainsborough, Van Dyck, and Durer and so on, would today be worth millions. For the lads who actually built the chimney with their hand-made bricks there was a more modest lunch at the nearby Crown Inn. They never imagined that their work would become famous in the annals of industrial architecture.

The towering stack built of red brick decorated with bands of blue and yellow and local sandstone, standing tall in proud isolation is Lancashire’s tallest at 330ft. In 1943 more than 20 tons of iron cresting was removed for the war effort. Fifty years later, after the mill had closed, steeplejack Fred Dibnah propped up his ladders and took a close look at the structure. It was serious – remedial work had become vital.

By then the peregrine falcons had moved in and they weren’t easy to dislodge. Eventually, after their nesting area had been covered in netting to keep them away for a few months, the builders were able to move in during the summer of 2007, fastening a steel hoist and cage to the south side ready to start the lengthy job of rebuilding the top ten feet and capping the structure.

It was a lengthy and difficult job and a considerable attention to detail was necessary. The new bricks had not only to be the same in colour but of Imperial measure as opposed to metric and they were eventually obtained from a firm in Barrow-in-Furness.

There was extensive repointing, several balusters were replaced while others were treated and coated; metal ties were replaced and the octagonal lining which runs half-way up the inside of the chimney was renovated. Finally, nesting boxes filled with gravel were placed near the top of the chimney to encourage the falcons to return. Several myths about windows and secret staircases built into the chimney were also dispelled during the renovation.

Here are my 2 pictures (in black and white to match the others)

These isn't mine (obviously)

Soft is painted the night. A masterpiece of black, on a canvas of wit; set against the indistinct stars. What a world I am in that it should grant me leave to wander under this arching entirety of endless possibility? Evening air exhaled from aching skies paints a chilled setting amidst a chaos only the release of these aching burdens shall unravel. So say farewell cold day into a frosty night and sleep in the halls of slumber till the claws of icy morning reach and touch the warmth of the living once again.

It had been a good day; perhaps one of the best.

A day that comes rarely in lifetimes; Or not at all.
Perhaps the call of the six magpies began it all
Sat high in the tree calling for gold and answered;
By the rising sun cascading heat on earth, triggering;
Rising scents of pine and moss from the dewy dawn
From a forest that ran down from tall hill to the sea

Pm2 machine closes today forever – I am thinking back over the last 36 years to 1977 when I started work on this machine and spent 14 years there. World is changing and we have to move with it but that doesn’t mean we have to like it. It's going to be a bumpy 8 months before we finally get the boot in October I think.

Currently reading the Well at Worlds End by William Morris. It is written in the old style and that takes some getting used to (see below) but as there are 2 volumes to get through i better had. The photo ilustrates what the first Kemscott book edition of the story would look like. I should imagine these are the rare of the rare. Why cant they make books like this now?

At last the throng was so thick that he was stayed by it; and therewithal a religious who was beside him and thrust up against his horse, turned to him and gave him good even, and said: "By thy weapons and gear thou art a stranger here in our burg, Sir Knight?"

"So it is," said Ralph.

"And whither away?" said the monk; "hast thou some kinsman or friend in the town?"

"Nay," said Ralph, "I seek a good hostelry where I may abide the night for my money."

The monk shook his head and said: "See ye the folk? It is holiday time, and midsummer after haysel. Ye shall scarce get lodging outside our house. But what then? Come thou thither straightway and have harbour of the best, and see our prior, who loveth young and brisk men-at-arms like to thee. Lo now! the throng openeth a little; I will walk by thy bridle and lead thee the shortest road thither."

Ralph gainsaid him not, and they bored through the throng of the street till they came into the market-square, which was very great and clean, paved with stones all over: tall and fair houses rose up on three sides of it, and on the fourth was the Great Church which made those houses seem but low: most of it was new-built; for the lord Abbot that then was, though he had not begun it, had taken the work up from his forerunner and had pushed it forward all he might; for he was very rich, and an open-handed man. Like dark gold it showed under the evening sun, and the painted and gilded imagery shone like jewels upon it.

"Yea," said the monk, as he noted Ralph's wonder at this wonder; "a most goodly house it is, and happy shall they be that dwell there."

Quiche and Goats cheese tarts - yummy

Fresh today - signs of spring and some moss on the wall

The worst film I have ever watched and I mean ever. It's in Norwegian with subtitles, the story is crap, the special effects are crap, the actors are crap. Avoid like the plague. You've been warned! As the poster says "you'll believe it when you see it." All you'll believe is that you were convinced to pay out good money for it. Utter rubbish. I cant emphasis this enough.

Fresh photos only one hour old –

Small dusting of snow

Fungus begins to take hold of the old beech trees – it’s always a sign of the end.

High cloud in a clear sky today

This is unusual - 2 icons in one.

Guess who painted this before invading Poland  - (damm!! - gave it away.) It looks a little gloomy and foreboding so maybe all the clues were there.

Biggest solar storms for six years create spectacular northern lights even in the south of the UK

The Northern Lights are sometimes seen from northern parts of Scotland but the unusual solar activity this week means the lights have also been visible from as far south as northeast England, a rarity. This storm is the strongest for radiation since May 2005. The radiation - in the form of protons come flying out of the sun at 93 million miles per hour.

Yep just looked out of the window - still raining and also foggy so no 'aurora borealis' tonight in Lancashire

This almost looks like a watercolour - dogs and wood fires eh!

What may we say of the season lest it passes and falls withered and spent to spring unremarked? Without some words of tranquil grandeur, we may fail to hear the message it would but give us, through its long, dark intervention of sunnier splendours. I wear neither a heavy coat, nor gloves this season, for the inclemency is favourable. As it is at the onset of autumn when the last leaf drops to a forest floor and trees bereft of rainment stretch upright in sad need of a worthiness that only the rains of April shall deliver. Let them wait and stand sentinel against a darkening sky that to us writes its name in starlight as time without end. Come faithful hound and we shall navigate the dusk by the light of the heavens and when we are done; we shall have freshly baked bread and jam for tea.

Baking the staff of life - it's delicious too even if I say so myself. I wouldn't normally wrap it up but giving it a as present

If I think and so therefore I am

Manifest and absolute in reason
Alive to science and mans’ industry

But;

What then is a dream, hope or wish?

They are fleeting, ethereal beliefs coagulating
The connecting chains to our promised bliss

“Like a game of chess we move through this life piece by piece carefully considering our strategy. So far we have been guarded and wise in our deliberations but now the game moves to its final phase. It must not fall to any one of us to move the final pieces alone.”

Here's some photos from last June of Sizergh Castle near Kendal. (They were on my Blackberry) I like the idea of a raised bed from withy...might give that a go as forever cutting things back in the garden. Seems a bit more sustainable than using (and carrying) wood from the DIY shop. We couldn't go in the castle as I remember because the family were in residence ( how selfish is that?) - I am joking. Looking forward to a summer walk under leafy trees on rich green grass again.

He cradled the body of Loya Scrihath in his arms and sang, “Frost comes now to bite deep into the flesh that held against the wind. Its fingers burn and make fall the last petals that echo the now faded summer. It holds the land in its icy thrall betwixt night and the day and only the kiss of the sun shall make it let go. As you have let go sister of the earth so shall we and let our voices travel with you to a better place.”

Of all the things strange seen by them now was that Ibbero began to cry. Tears welled in his ancient eyes and rolling down his sorrowed face fell onto Loya Scrihath. He pressed his brow upon hers and drew her close. To those that watched there seemed a radiance about them both. Ibbero held her tight to him for some time before placing her gently on the floor. Looking at the guards he ordered, “Take her with reverence to a place of beauty and see no one visits her yet. So much time did this great lady give you; now give it back while her soul travels into a new story.”

The guards took the body away and shaken Ibbero turned to the others and said, “This is evil magic my friends; much darker than I could have foreseen."

I like pictures that show seasonal differences - what a difference water makes

Frost comes now to bite deep into the fleshy stems that held their own against the wind. Its fingers burn young leaves, solidifies then makes fall the last petals that echo the now faded summer. It holds the land in its icy thrall betwixt night and the day and only the kiss of the sun shall make it let go.

Some frost photos I took this afternoon in the garden.

Ice builds up on a water butt from a dripping branch overhead. Don’t ask me how it did this but it made a perfectly triangular vase filled with water which I put a twig in to show you.

Frost on thyme

Frost on leaves

Frost on angelica

Forecast cold but sunny for the next few days so hopefully lots of good frost pics.

Who would have thought all those tea towel prints would end up at this revelation -  William Morris inspiring J.R.R.Tolkein with the Lord of the Rings.

The Well at the World's End is a fantasy novel by the British artist, poet, and author William Morris. It was first published in 1896 and has been reprinted a number of times since, most notably in two parts as the twentieth and twenty-first volumes of the Ballantine Adult Fantasy series in August and September 1970. It is also available in one volume along with a similar Morris tale, The Wood Beyond the World, in On the Lines of Morris' Romances: Two Books that Inspired J. R. R. Tolkien.

Plot summary

Using language with elements of the medieval tales which were his models, Morris tells the story of Ralph of Upmeads, the fourth and youngest son of a minor king, who sets out, contrary to his parents' wishes, to find knightly adventure and seek the Well at the World's End, a magic well which will confer a near-immortality and strengthened destiny on those who drink from it.

Ralph meets a mysterious lady who has drunk from the well, and they become lovers. However, she is killed, and with the help of Ursula, another maiden whom he meets upon the way, Ralph eventually attains the Well.

Influence

Although the novel is relatively obscure by today's standards it has had a significant influence on many notable fantasy authors. C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien both seem to have found inspiration in The Well at the World's End: ancient tables of stone, a "King Peter", and a quick, white horse named "Silverfax" are only a few. In an October 1914 letter to his future wife, Tolkien told her, "Amongst other work I am trying to turn one of the short stories [of the Finnish Kalevala] ... into a short story somewhat on the lines of Morris's romances with chunks of poetry in between."

Season Pudding - A traditional savoury side dish from the North. Great with roast beef and gravy. (2 recipes below)


Ingredients
Serves: 6
300ml (1/2 pint) milk
4 free range eggs
1/2 teaspoon salt
freshly ground black pepper to taste
1 tablespoon vegetable oil (or dripping)
200g (7 oz) plain flour
2 small onions, chopped
small handful chopped fresh sage
Preparation method
Prep: 30 mins | Cook: 20 mins
1.  Preheat oven to 230 C / Gas mark 8.
2. Beat the milk, eggs, salt and pepper together well, preferably with an electric hand whisk. Cover and place in refrigerator for 15 minutes.
3. In the meantime, put the oil or dripping in a roasting tin and place in the preheated oven.
4. Sift the flour, and whisk into the chilled egg and milk mixture.
5. Once the tin is very hot, add the batter and sprinkle the onion and sage on top, keeping away from the edges. Cook for about 20 minutes or until puffed and golden.


Eileen Morgan: Here's my mom's recipe:


SEASONED PUDDING:


6-8 slices of bread
3 medium onions, chopped
1 egg
sage (season to taste)
salt & pepper
1 cup quaker oats
1 tbsp flour
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Pour boiling water over bread, soak & then drain well. Boil onions until tender; drain well. Mash bread, onions together; add egg and mix well; add all other ingredients & mix. Put mixture into a baking dish (can't remember if you're supposed to grease the dish or not); drizzle dripping from pork roast over top; bake 40-50 minutes. Slice, serve with lots of gravy & enjoy! Serves 8, or in my case, 3 (one daughter doesn't like it so there's lots for us that do!)

Should you decide to compile a Yorkshire cookbook, I'd have no objection at all to your including this recipe. In fact, I'd insist! I believe the world should know about this dish!!! Eileen.

Made these Christmas 2012 - Delicious and so easy and great with cheese and biscuits

Scottish oat biscuits with cheese

1 cup (90g) rolled oats
½ cup (80g) wholemeal flour
1/3 cup (50g) plain flour
1 teaspoon caster sugar
¼ teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
90g butter, diced
2 egg whites
Cheese, to serve
Preparation method
1. Line two baking trays with baking paper.
2. In a food processor, process oats until fine. Add wholemeal and plain flours, sugar, bicarbonate of soda and ½ teaspoon salt. With motor running, add butter. Process until mixture resembles breadcrumbs. With motor still running, add egg whites. Process until mixture forms a ball.
3. Divide mixture in half. Roll out each half between floured baking paper into 23cm circles. Place on prepared trays. Chill for 30 minutes.
4. Preheat oven to 200°C or 180°C fan. Cut each circle into eight wedges. Bake for 15 minutes. Cool. Serve biscuits with cheese.(obviously ,but also work with savoury relish)

Hope you like these photos from the National Geographic website (you may have seen them) - the octopus takes my breath away. How can people eat these? National Geographic photos are the best in the world i think. Please visit the site and then i wont get told off for using the pictures :)  I wont be walking under those trees in Bangladesh where the floods drove all the spiders to. That's got to be made into a movie for sure

http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/