Ow, ow ow

Oh well they'll grow back - wont they?

Upper left 6 - the deepest rooted tooth in your mouth. Oh joy

Panoraminc views on a 3hr walk today to Darwen Tower. I'm think I'm getting better at stitching these photographs together.

Wayoh reservoir 30 mins ago. Note Robbie in the water - he's taking so much to swimming these days. Water levels are so high at the moment that the overflow is running very well.

Celebration Fruit Cake (8 inch)

 

Makes: 1 x 20cm (8 inch) round or 18cm (7 inch) square cake (see guide for other sizes)
Preparation time: 40 minutes, plus soaking and maturing
Cooking time: 3½ hours
Tools: k beater

 

Method

Grease and line a 20cm (8 inch) round cake tin. Tie a thick double band of brown paper around the outside of the tin. Stand the tin on a baking sheet, lined with a double thickness of brown paper.

 

Wash the glace cherries to remove all the syrup, drain and pat dry with paper towel. Cut into quarters. Place in a large bowl with the currants, raisins, sultanas and candied peel. Pour over the brandy, toss together and leave to stand for 3-4 hours, or overnight, if time allows.

 

Preheat the oven to 150°C/300°F/Gas 2. Place the butter and sugar in the Kenwood Bowl and using the K-beater starting at speed 2, mix together until light and fluffy.

With the K-beater still turning, gradually add the beaten eggs, a little at a time and continue beating until smooth.

 

Sift the flour, mixed spice, cinnamon and nutmeg together. On minimum speed gradually add half the flour mixture. Stop mixing; add half the fruit and almonds. Mix on minimum until incorporated.

 

Add the remaining flour and fruit mixtures. Mix in sufficient barley wine, milk or orange juice to give a soft dropping consistency. Spoon mixture into the prepared cake tin and level the surface with the back of a metal spoon. Make a slight depression in the centre. This will help to encourage a flat cake, when baked.

 

Bake in the centre of the oven for 2 hours. Reduce the oven to 140°C/275°F/Gas 1 for 1½ hours, or until cooked. Cover the top with greaseproof paper if it starts to over-brown.

 

Test the cake to see if it is cooked by inserting a fine skewer into the centre; it should come out clean. The cake should also feel firm to the touch.

 

Leave to cool in the tin until warm, then turn out onto a wire rack to cool. When completely cold, wrap in greaseproof paper, then in a double layer of aluminum foil. Leave in a cool dry place for 2 weeks to mature, or up to 2 months before applying almond paste and icing.

 

Cook’s Note The 25cm (10 inch) round cake can only be made with the Kenwood Major.

For the 25cm (10 inch) round cake, if you have a Kenwood Chef, use the mixer up to the end of step 4, then transfer the mix to a larger container, such as a clean washing-up bowl and mix the flour, fruit and nuts in by hand. Alternatively make the cake in 2 batches, using the machine and combine them by hand before transferring to the prepared tin.

For the 30cm (12 inch) round cake if you have a Kenwood  Major, use the mixer up to the end of step 4, then transfer the mix to a larger container, such as a clean washing-up bowl and mix the flour, fruit and nuts in by hand. Alternatively make the cake in 2 batches, using the machine and combine them by hand before transferring to the prepared tin.

 

Baking Times:
For: 15cm (6 inch) round or 12cm (5 inch) square cake
150°C/300°F/Gas 2 for 1½ hours then 140°C/275°F/ Gas 1 for 1-1½ hours

For: 18cm (7 inch) round or 15cm (6 inch) square cake
150°C/300°F/Gas 2 for 2 hours then 140°C/275°F/ Gas 1 for 1-1½ hours

For: 25cm (10 inch) round or 23cm (9 inch) square cake
150°C/300°F/Gas 2 for 2½ hours then 140°C/275°F/ Gas 1 for 1½ hours

For: 30cm (12 inch) round or 28cm (11 inch) square cake
150°C/300°F/Gas 2 for 4 hours then 140°C/275°F/ Gas 1 for 2-2½ hours

 
 

 

I made the 12inch round cake (7.5kg or 16lb approx) which was in the oven for 7 hrs - this is a good recipe from the Kenwood book or you can find it online here

http://www.kenwoodworld.com/uk/cooking-with-kenwood/recipes/kitchen-machines-recipes/Cakes-Pastries-and-Biscuits/celebration-fruit-cake1/

 

 

 

 

Here's the finished article

 

 

Doubt rises across dusk at the closing of summer; Sunlight and the north-west wind do not make a good union. Totemic and unyielding under this guise are the shorter days and cooling nights. Now the cold seeps into the cracks between layers and enters all the hollow spaces like an invading army of frosty parasites. It touches the core of me and suddenly I realise what winter shall feel like again.

No more 5am coffee in the garden on sunlit mornings, no more butterflies or leaf filled trees. Here now come the hard times of enclosed spaces and biting rain from grey washed out skies. To welcome the looming workless days flowing from lazy mornings that may feed an active mind and perhaps make sense of it all in some kind of uneasy truce with the world.

They were roughly dragged along the dusty floor under the orange glow of the braziers to a small holding cell. They hit the back wall of the cell as they were thrown roughly inside ‘Clang!’ the heavy door slammed and they were left in the darkness save for the ochre glow filtering under the door as though a distant fire were in the hall outside.” How long they lay flitting between the realisation of their ignoble capture and the pain of their captor’s brutal handling they could not remember but the isolating fevered dreams and lucid realisation that played continually during their captivity lasted like an endless day.

Then the goblin guards returned and roughly hauled them to their feet. They had been given no food or water but now one of the guards forced vile liquor down each of them in turn. Despite its acrid taste of mould and fungus it fortified them to enable them to stand without swooning. Without a word they were taken along a sandy inclined tunnel to what Martahu thought could only be the high chamber of the warren. It was always the custom that the high queen lived closest to the escape route out of the warren. Within his mind an idea formed but its execution for the moment failed him.

After a few minutes and many turns they entered the high chamber. A high ceiling mitigated its smallness and opposite the high chair along one end, ran a rough tapestry. Female goblins did not do this work which crudely depicted bestial acts against the human race.  Martahu flinched as he was wheeled round to face the queen. From a small opening above the stars could be seen wheeling their ancient dance around the moon.

The sprite queen Drossa was a fearsome creature. Glassy obsidian eyes set deep into a bony brow framed with the blackest string like hair, long brown jowls and a hooked nose gave her face a misshapen appearance. When she smiled scimitar shaped fangs protruded from her thin crimson lips and every so often a swollen black tongue flicked between them. She looked at us with disdain and spoke, “The world is soon to be once again restored. Yet tis but only game and all you had just the spark of aptitude to play the parts I have set you.”

Pausing to breathe deeply she continued, “Bethink you that I am certainly a fool. Yet no fool could weave such a puzzle that would bring you to me now. Let those with wisdom decipher this moment in the days to come. That is why you can never win - you're arrogance prevents you from seeing that I have been guiding things to this end for decades...”Only those with wisdom see that what you are about to lose is only; that which you never fully understood was yours.

Drossa lifted her head and laughed out to the stars. They shone bright in the night sky but yet looked so icily cold hanging in the blackness. The cold air touched my exposed skin and I knew it was hopeless.

Her eyes took hold of mine and I fell from grace under their gaze. She rose out of the chair and drew herself to full height and continued. “The three separate and yet equal strands are here and whether you will accept it or not, they are woven together. You, I and the doom of Evensul become one. It was ever to be so; for we are familial creatures bereft of choice yet know it not. Think you the foretelling of Arexus”

When the time must come soon to face our fears

Remember the past and shed all your bitter tears
Advice you ignore from your patriots, and seers
Will destroy wholly the nation in only fifty years

She paused and then went on... “The world is not what it was; you know this. Do you wish to see how much has changed? Here are the choices you must make.” With that she rose from his seat and motioned to one of the guards. The guard pulled back the curtain along the far side of the wall to reveal an immense cavern below. Within it stood serried ranks of armoured goblins; tall and hideous like Drossa herself. Statuesque they stood in formation; resolute and unmoving as though carved from stone. Martahu knew instinctively from Drossa’s face that each was her progeny. Goblin colonies are not as others. Rather like a termite mound they are served by queens who hold the whole citadel together.

Drossa continued, “We have been cautious, hidden away in this scomatacacht but now see the result of endeavour. In secret we have multiplied and while ever you thought the old ways and your indomitable spirit would serve you in a future war, see now how utterly false that assumption has been.”

© Edetric Vistal

Sunnyhurst Woods is a collection of bridges and streams - i grew up playing in here. It hasn't changed very much at all and they still serve refreshments at the old england kiosk.

Robbie thinks i am a total amateur at lazing around and is showing me how to relax and enjoy these days off

It was a rare day with a small amount of sunshine yesterday and i did notice the windmills are multiplying

It's been a very wet day - here's some panoramas from my walk 1 hour ago

Finally the last day at work today. They have let us go (with pay) a month early. I am officially redundant now (I have the letter) but I wonder if in 1 year I will look back with anger or gladness that this time of change will be the catalyst for better things. I can only hope.

When fleeting clouds trouble a blue sky

It is always not possible to understand why
The weather sets anew from fair to rain
Signals that now it’s time for change

We had a little art competition on holiday. Here we are stood beside our respective artworks. You be the judge but I think they are all rather good for a first attempt.

The three disgraces posing in Inverary jail (in the wrong order note)

Loch Fyne Scotland

A black crown stretches seamlessly across the heavens above

Holds an inconstant vastness of milky, starlight fed galaxies
That must ever grow and wheel in random, infinite formations
Intersected in time only by a bombardment of shooting stars
That quickly fades, falling northwards to the pole above Alba
 

© Edetric Vistal

The view at sunset last night

The view over the loch this mornig (5 minutes ago)

Here we are on holiday in Scotland - I took some panoramas. Hope they convey some of the scenery around here.

A new species of monkey has been identified in Africa, only the second time such a discovery has been made on the continent in 28 years. The identification of the monkey in the Democratic Republic of the Congo is significant as identification of mammals new to science is rare. Lesula (Cercopithecus lomamiensis) has a naked face and a mane of long blond hairs, and is described by the researchers who identified it as shy and quiet. It lives on the ground and in trees in a 6,500 square mile habitat of the lowland rainforests in the centre of the DRC between the middle Lomami (the inspiration for its name) and the upper Tshuapa Rivers. Its diet is mostly fruit and vegetation. There are already fears for the newly discovered species' fate despite its home in a relatively remote and underpopulated region, as it is hunted for bushmeat.

How could you not say we’re related genetically? Now it’s been discovered I don’t give it long - Good old humans eh

 

Doubt rises across the dusk at the closing of summer; Sunlight and the north-west wind do not make a good union. Totemic and unyielding under its guise are the shorter days and cooling nights. Now the cold seeps into the cracks between layers and enters all the hollow spaces like an invading army of frosty parasites. It touches the core of me and suddenly I realise what winter shall feel like again.

No more 5am coffee in the garden on sunlit mornings, no more butterflies or leaf filled trees. Here now come the hard times of enclosed spaces and biting rain from grey-washed skies. To welcome the looming workless days flowing from lazy mornings that may feed an active mind and perhaps make sense of it all in some kind of uneasy truce with the world.

 

 

In sweeping corporate strokes to make of clutter less thrift

My work shall go soon we have completed the last shift
Now in name alone a workplace shall only memory engender?
In faded thoughts of work and its tedious joys less tender
For whit shall I care if the world turns to ash and devastation?
The deed is done, the work over; now I enjoy my remuneration

One day we all take a leap of faith into a new journey. We will no longer inhabit the wake left by familial progenitors but finally be at the heart of enlightenment.  I place my feet on the silvered path, and follow the generational light of a million footsteps out across the bay. It holds my weight for I, now lighter than air, travel swift the silvered trail into a hundred outstretched arms.  But the sun sets and dusk emerges and the thought vanishes away into the aether; for I would truly stay here a little while longer.

That it should come here says sense has finally lost to sensibility

You may think that wind power helps the world; it does not
For what can result but a blighted world of tormented vistas
This erroneous quest to serve green business with dubious profits
That despoils and scars the very last pristine land of England
Masterpieces now repainted to an industrial blank canvas

I made this graph of the combined medals from the Olympic and Paralympic games -  I have to say the paralympics were done very well by everyone - simply inspirational.

The web wove the thread is wet

Across this glade the trap is set
Like Clytemnestra she will
Pour no libations on the ground
She will not honour the dead
Nor the beloved suitor calling
Nor her sister, nor her mother
Orestes will not slay this savage
For she is alone to time forever
Trapped between these lofty boughs
Between her larder and sunbeams
And the Erinyes singing so sweetly
Deep within her thoughts of harm  
Monster you cry, yet pity its isolation
Without her aid all comes to naught
But a bitter world of noxious flies

© Edetric Vistal

Look here for information on the Oresteia and the wealth of Greek classics and think how a pcture can inspire. I took this yesterday.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oresteia

More than 400 scientists in 32 laboratories in the UK, US, Spain, Singapore and Japan were involved in the most detailed analysis to date of the human genome. They've discovered a far larger chunk of our genetic code is biologically active than was previously thought. The researchers hope the findings might lead to a deeper understanding of numerous diseases, which could lead to better treatments.

Note the use of might and could in the description. What’s the betting that we’ll just end up with cosmetic treatments and drug company money-spinners? Perhaps if they could find the part of the human genome responsible for greed we might begin to get somewhere. I wont hold my breath. My genes made me write that.

No more to say then, the autumn has made his entrance

The first willow leaves now swerve down into the water
By stealth into the shorter days, he will weave his noble rot
Upon the heady green days; on views we have lovingly shared
He will take the bluest canvas of a richly oiled landscape
Repaint it in pastel watercolour scenes of gold and russet
Yet his unwelcome embrace will bestow the northern world
Bounty on branch and earth and stream to moderate gloom
The autumn shall not be stopped and we will give him room

Monday 3^rd Sep 2012

Bright and warm day (at last)...highlight (I that is the right word,) was a swarm of flying ants setting off into the evening sun. They hovered in the sunbeams and landed all over me like the scene from Avatar where Jake is covered by the seeds of the great tree and then just like in the film they all lifted off again in unison.

I think from past experience they are a little later this year than normal but with the poor summer I guess that is to be expected. They always emerge on the first sunny day after a spell of rain. I guess it is so the soil is soft enough for the new queen to excavate a nest after the marriage flight. That so many emerge and so few make it to adulthood to establish the queenly realm is a wonder. I guess that’s the difference between them and us. They must make thousands to ensure just one will survive. Perhaps less is not always more. Think of the workers having to contain the seething mass of young males and females bursting with purpose within the nest till the weather was right.

I also took some photos of a yellow coral type fungus bursting out of an old tree stump like a small tongue of flame and a couple from my walk around the lake yesterday.

The quality of light changes as we head towards the autumn. It becomes less brightly solid and vistas take on a watercolour appearance as objects blur and become closer than they should. I am sat here in the late day sun with the scent of rosemary and thyme on my hands and the aroma of lemons in the air. It mingles together to give the scent of baking bread and I wonder am I in Darwen or Provence?

I recant my guilt from all I have done before

Having learnt too late alas, that less is more