Goodbye Phyllis, hello Sophie

The last few weeks and months have been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster in our family, with health problems looming over several members and uncertainty about the future.

Last week we said goodbye to Phyllis (Granny) Russell, who died at the age of 96, and hello to new niecelet Sophie Helen, who sprang seemingly out of nowhere after my younger sister announced her pregnancy on the Monday and gave birth on the Wednesday.

I was very lucky to have Granny in my life for such a long time; she was a wonderful role model and an inspiration to me as a strong, independent woman who believed life was what you made of it. Hers was not easy; her father, a shepherd, died when she was a baby and the family had to move several times and survive as best they could; her eldest son was born out of wedlock, the circumstances of which are not totally clear to me; this same son died in a motorcycle accident before I was even born. She was not prone to self-pity, she just got on with life and was not happy unless she was doing something - a trait I also recognise in myself.

She baked wonderful cakes right up until the last few months of her life, well past the time when she was interested in eating them, and right up to the point when she couldn't stand up for long enough to mix them any more. Even when I saw her a couple of weeks ago, she produced half a homemade lemon cake out of the freezer for me to take home.

She had a wicked sense of humour and a cheeky nature (both of which I think I inherited) and her observational comments about the things she experienced in day to day life, right up to the day she died, were funny and often self-deprecating. Her mind was still sharp even at 96, a fact she attributed to doing the crossword every day, and luckily she kept her mobility for much of her life and her independence right up to the last few months. A long, drawn out and painful decline in health and a loss of independence, which is what she was facing, would have been difficult for her to bear. Difficult as it is to accept her loss, I'm grateful that she was spared this.

I will miss her quick wit and her lilting Oxfordshire accent, her way of referring to inanimate objects as 'he', her stoic nature and her unwavering acceptance of her lot. RIP Granny Russell.

A few days before Granny's death, we celebrated the arrival of Sophie Helen, born to my youngest sister on 16th June in Kufstein, Austria. The fact that sis only told her family of Sophie's existence a few days before she was due created some very complex emotions for us to process. For the first time in my life I could see that counselling might be beneficial.

All the same, the bootees have been knitted up and duly dispatched with congratulatory messages. I am delighted for my sister and her partner, I know she wanted to have children and she is already considered old to be a mum, so this is a really big thing for her.

Meanwhile my elder sister spent several months under the threat of a potential cancer diagnosis, going through two operations and making some difficult and traumatic decisions before thankfully being given the all-clear. We've had many emotional conversations over the last few months and I believe it's brought us even closer together.

Families are complex things, even the ones you regard as solid and unshakeable. When I'm raising a glass to Granny on Wednesday I'll also be celebrating with my sisters and acknowledging my mum's unwavering support to all of us, especially my dad.

Cathedral of Learning, University of Pittsburgh

My business life involves an annual visit to the Pennsylvanian city of Pittsburgh - famous historically as the centre of the steel industry, and named after the British statesman William Pitt the Elder.

My colleague and I usually plan to arrive on Saturday and have a free day on Sunday, which enables us to do a bit of sightseeing or shopping - whether it's the Warhol Museum, cycling along the riverside bikepaths, or checking out one of the city's ginormous yarn stores.

This year we revisited the amazing Cathedral of Learning, part of the University of Pittsburgh; a late gothic revival building which is a dramatic landmark in the city and houses some fantastic architecture.

The building was commissioned in 1921 and opened in 1937 - its design by architect Charles Klauder was intended to combine the trend for skyscrapers with the ideals of gothic architecture, and its steel framed, stone-clad building achieves this very successfully. There was a lot of resistance to the height of the structure (163m) at the time - unsurprisingly as it is huge and can be seen for miles around.

In the central area of the ground floor is a huge reading room - the Commons Room - which has been called one of the "great architectural fantasies of the twentieth century". It is a fifteenth-century English perpendicular Gothic-style hall that covers 2,000m² and extends over four storeys, to a height of 16m.

Chancellor John Gabbert Bowman, who commissioned the building, wanted to recognise the many nationalities that had contributed to the development of the city, and he did so by commissioning the nationality rooms - a series of 27 classrooms representing those nationalities of which there was a significant population in the city.

Invitations were extended to the nationality communities that made up the Pittsburgh area to provide a room that was representative of their heritage. Each group had to form a Room Committee, which would be responsible for all fundraising, designing, and acquisition. The University provided the room and upkeep in perpetuity once completed, while all other materials, labour, and design were provided by the individual committees.

These rooms are still used as classrooms - afterward, in a bar down the road, we chatted to an undergraduate at the university who had been assigned several of these rooms for lessons during his studies there.

The building is open to visitors, and you can visit the Commons Room and peek into the Syria-Lebanon room anytime, as it has a glass front to it. I think they run tours of the Nationality Rooms but couldn't find any link online. We snuck in for a look and tried the doors of the classrooms, some of which were open, including my favourite, the Hungarian Room.

The wonderful stained glass windows with images of famous Hungarians and scenes from folk tales were a highlight (I recommend you click the pictures to see the full details):

Mango chutney

With boxes of six lovely ripe mangoes selling for £5 on Deptford High Street today, I decided to have a go at making my own mango chutney, something I've been meaning to do for ages. I was also prompted by the fact that the plum & chilli jam is running low, so I'm in need of something a bit spicey and sweet for that curry/sausage sandwich/pork pie type of moment.

I started with this recipe from the BBC Good Food website, and used it more or less intact except that I only had one apple rather than two. Cooking apples are elusive on Sundays - only the English greengrocer and the market stalls seem to sell them, the Asian greengrocers with the cheap mangoes don't have them.

Ingredients
4 or 5 large ripe mangoes about 1kg
2 tbsp sunflower oil
2 onions, halved and thinly sliced
thumb-sized piece fresh root ginger peeled and cut into thin shreds
10 green cardamom pods
1 cinnamon stick
½ tsp cumin seeds
½ tsp coriander seeds, lightly crushed
¼ tsp black onion seeds (Nigella or Kalonji)
½ tsp ground turmeric
2 Bramley apples, about 500g, peeled, cored and chopped
1 large red chilli, deseeded and finely sliced
375ml white wine vinegar
400g golden caster sugar
1 tsp salt

Fry onions gently in oil for a few mins, then add the ginger and cook for another 8-10 mins.

Add all the spices except the turmeric, fry for a few minutes. Add the turmeric, apple, 500ml water, cover and cook for 10 mins before adding the mango and cooking for a further 20 mins. 

Add vinegar, sugar, salt and cook uncovered for another half an hour or more, until the mixture thickens. Pour into sterilised jars, store for 8 weeks to let it mature.

On reflection, it might have been better if the mangoes had not been quite so ripe, they were very juicy and the mixture consequently was pretty wet. I'm not sure how well or if at all it will set, I perhaps should have added less water and/or vinegar. Tastes good at this stage though, can't wait to try it!

The sunflower diaries part II

So, it's been nearly a month since these little babies were planted. It's been a hot old month; the rose bushes down the other end of the flower bed have done well, proving that it's not all barren ground. About half of the very unpromising-looking clumps came out in a huge flourish of colour for a week or so but they are going over now.

I've been down there every few evenings with my watering can, prompting glances from the mechanics along Edward Place who all seem to work very late. A few times I've managed to persuade the Curse to accompany me carrying a big containerful of water, to give the parched ground a good soaking.

After a week or so they started peeking their little heads through the dry, dusty ground, but yesterday's torrential rain seems to have prompted them to shoot up a few inches overnight!

This is very exciting, makes me believe that they will really grow and flower. When I was examining them this evening a middle aged Chinese lady stopped for a chat, I think she was wondering what I was doing trampling around on the flower bed in my size 7 boots. I told her what they were, she was interested and surprised to hear that I had planted them, and quite delighted too.

There are various weeds also taking a hold in the flower bed, some of them quite pretty including some tiny poppies which are already flowering. Given the rate at which poppies spread in unpromising conditions, I suspect I'll be digging them up in a couple of years' time!

Since my last sunflower post I also met up with one of my commenters, who writes local blog londonslostgarden. We spent a very pleasant couple of hours chatting about gardens, local blogs and local issues, and I had a tour of her allotment in Windlass Place on the edge of Lewisham borough, and the lovely Evelyn Community Garden which is right next to it. She has volunteered use of her mattock to break up the compacted soil of the flower bed, and we are tentatively planning a bulb-planting event in the autumn.

Meanwhile any more volunteers for watering, planting and tending will be welcomed with open arms...!

Grass snakes and elderflower cordial

But not at the same time!

The Curse and I took ourselves out of London this morning for a breath of fresh air and a bit of thinking time. We drove to the RSPB reserve Northward Hill which is on the Hoo Peninsula in Kent. Well worth a visit if you get chance. I've written about the heronry before, and we had come specially to visit during the nesting season.

That plan turned out to be a foolish one; naturally the trees where the birds nest were covered in leaves, and many of them were also populated with rooks making a dreadful din. We did see one heron exiting the treetops and flapping off into the distance, but no others bothered to show themselves.

Luckily there were many other exciting things to look at, and we were lucky enough to see two grass snakes basking in the sunshine on the side of a shallow ditch. Another visitor had alerted us to their sunbathing spot, and on the way past it we decided to investigate. Sure enough, I immediately spotted the large grass snake he had mentioned, it slithered stealthily into the water and hid beneath some foliage while it waited for me to go away. As the Curse approached, somewhat reluctantly, a smaller snake - perhaps the male of the pair - slipped off the grass and swam over to the other side of the ditch where it waited, eyeing us suspiciously.

My first proper sighting of a grass snake, and lucky enough to see two at once!

We listened to reed buntings chirruping away for ages, answering one another from opposite ends of the reed beds, and heard a cuckoo calling repeatedly from the woods. The grassland was alive with beautiful butterflies and moths, including a cinnabar moth whose stunning red and black wings looked dramatic against the green background.

Northward Hill had other, more predictable sightings, and the view across the Thames is always refreshing. The warm sun and gentle breeze made our two-hour stroll all the more delightful.

Back in London I got the first batch of elderflower cordial going. If you have elder bushes near you, do consider making some of this. It's incredibly easy and if you freeze a bottle of it, you will be able to enjoy the heady scent of early summer one gloomy day in the middle of winter.

Cardamom shortbread

I do like a bit of shortbread, and when it's got a twist on traditional shortbread, so much the better.

This shortbread offers the subtle combination of flavours of cardamom and chickpeas, while the yellow gram flour gives it a lovely colour. Very simple and quick to make, irresistible!

100g gram (chickpea) flour
50g plain flour
75g caster sugar
100g unsalted butter, softened
4 cardamom pods

Sift the flours into a large bowl, then mix in the sugar. Split the cardamom pods and put the seeds into a pestle & mortar, grind them small then add to the flour and sugar.

Soften the butter and mix it into the other ingredients with the back of a wooden spoon. The mix will not come together, it will remain as a dry texture.

Once the butter is all combined, tip the mix into a greased square or round baking tray and press it flat with the back of a metal spoon, compressing the mix together, smoothing the top and pressing the edges down. It should be no more than an inch thick.

Bake in a cool oven at gas mark 2 (150C or 300F) for about 25 minutes, at which stage it should be starting to brown at the edges. Mark out the biscuits with a knife while it is still hot, and sprinkle caster sugar over the top, but leave it in the tin to cool. When it's cool, cut right through and lift out the biscuits.

International sunflower guerrilla gardening day

Just along the road from my house is a very unloved flower bed. It sits in the middle of a small gyratory, next to the railway viaduct and a car mechanic's yard. It was obviously built with care; it is a large flower bed, surrounded by stone walls and taking a prominent position on the roundabout.

But years of neglect have left it far from its best. The few scrubby rose bushes that remain, fight for survival in the dry, compacted earth and the litter that surrounds them. I cycle past this rosebed every day and feel sad that it's not being maintained, so today I resolved to join international sunflower guerrilla gardening day and try to bring about a little change.

Guerrilla gardening is a movement which was set up about eight years ago by Richard Reynolds who lives not far from here, in south east London. He got fed up seeing unloved bits of ground like this one, covered in litter and with nothing growing in them, and resolved to do something to improve his immediate environment - regularly setting out with seeds, plants, tools and water to try and coax flowers to grow in the most unlikely places.

My daily cycle ride also passes some of the roadside beds tended by him and his team in SE1, and it's always an inspirational reminder that there are other people out there who care about these things too.

So I set out at 7.30am today - international sunflower guerrilla gardening day! - to do a bit of digging on stony ground. I took my trusty garden fork, two two-litre bottles of water, some fertiliser, a packet of sunflower seeds, and a fluorescent vest just to make me look a bit more official!

The ground was pretty solid and it took some effort to break it up. While I was doing the digging a couple of people passed by - one said hello and looked a bit quizzical but the other didn't say anything. After breaking up the top level I expected the soil below to be a bit easier. It wasn't!

So I contented myself with digging about a metre in diameter, breaking up the soil sufficiently to get the seeds in. I scattered some fertiliser over it and turned it into the ground, then planted the sunflower seeds randomly across the earth, and mostly in pairs. At one point a beautiful green parakeet watched me from a treetop - this was during the digging though. I do hope he didn't see the sunflower seeds going in and think it was lunchtime :-(

With the seeds planted, I watered the ground and took a few photos.

There is plenty more space on this flowerbed. If anyone in SE8 is out there reading this and is interested in getting this bed looking like a living feature rather than a depressing swathe of compacted soil, please get in touch via the comments! (and if you've got a mattock, so much the better!)