Galette des Rois.

Visitors to France will be aware of a certain 'pastry' that appears in the shops just after Christmas.

The Galette des Rois is a flaky pastry filled with almond paste frangipane. The Galette also comes complete with a hidden fève (the French equivalent of a sixpenny piece in a plum pudding), and a paper crown for the finder.

The Galette is traditionally eaten at Epiphany (no idea what this is) which falls on the first Sunday after January 1st.

I'm not a sweet eater, but a slice of  almondy Galette with my afternoon cup of Lapsang is essential at this time of year.

If you happen to find yourself in France just after Christmas; I recommend.... Delicious.

We buy ours from the bakery, but supermarket versions (such as above) are just as good. 

Just William.

It seems to be common amongst regular long-haul flyers that they end up with coughs, colds, and general chesty complaints; Wills is no exception.

Not only did he spend much of his pre-Christmas time with us, coughing, sneezing, and drinking gallons of honey/lemon concoctions, but he also subjected himself to inhaling vicious smelling Tiger Balm infusions (above).

Not being 100% compos mentis when booking an hotel for his return journey to Germany, he also managed to confuse Orléans with New Orleans, and inadvertently  booked an overnight stay 4,800 miles away from where he wished to be. Luckily, after some difficulty, this was later rectified.

Wills being veggie, we happily survived without any meat for over a week. I don't think it would have lasted if he'd been here for Christmas day. 

Anyway his trip was a success, even if he did overstay in Europe and miss Bunny's first Christmas (and his first as a married man). Luckily the lovely Kellogg is very (?) forgiving. 

Next time he visits he should be accompanied by the rest of the family..... We can't wait.

Wills is now back in Australia. 

p.s. Do you know how many languages your children speak? Imagine my surprise when I heard Wills speaking German when booking his Dusseldorf Hotel room; I had no idea!

New Year's Honours

                           

Each year I hold my breath, chew my fingernails, and say a small prayer to the God of Gongs, hoping that I will get a call from Her Majesty asking me to come and collect some gong or other (that I've so obviously deserved for the past several years)..... But still nothing.

What I really want is a simple Knighthood... Sir Cro of Lumberjack... but frankly any old thing will do. 

And if you were thinking that she'd at last seen the light (above), it isn't mine. It was my late Father-in-Law's. 

Hey ho; there's always next year.

Cro's Review of 2014.

It's been a pretty good year for The Magnons.

2014 began mildly; unusually for here there were no snow storms or hard frosts, then a wonderful Spring arrived, bringing with it our little 'Bunny' (now not so little).

Summer was good too. We had our two North London grandsons with us whilst their parents got on with earning their crusts. The parents took them off for a trip to Béziers before leaving the boys with us again for a further week. It was great having them to ourselves, although I don't know if they'd say the same.

Luckily the boys were here for the Plum harvest, and for the first time Harvey J's birthday-tree excelled. Here he is surveying his first very own crop of fruit, which Lady Magnon had converted into a Plum Tarte Tatin. Proud boy; delicious tart.

                                              

Throughout the summer our work on the barn advanced. Slowly, but with determination.

                                 

Knocking down what seemed like most of the southern wall was hairy; but it had to be done. We now have front steps, a new roof, drainpipes, windows, a staircase, a new floor, water, some electrical work, a certain amount of insulation, and upstairs beams that are no longer blood-thirsty. We're getting there! This is how we leave the barn as we head into 2015; it's beginning to look 'almost' like a house.

Whilst Wills was here he even ordered a very nice looking wood fired range cooker, with back boiler, for the new kitchen. It hasn't arrived yet, but shouldn't be long.

                                 

The Cèpe harvest this October was wonderful; in fact there were almost too many. As my main aim this year was to produce plenty of conserves I was in heaven, and we now have stocks for months ahead (below). Cèpe omelets... Oh yes.

Unfortunately 2014 has also had its nightmares. Everyone will have been horrified by the advance of the murderous IS fanatics through Syria and Iraq. Something radical needs to be done about them, but by who and when remains undecided. Meanwhile they grow ever stronger and become ever more barbaric. It's a world-wide disgrace. If there is one collective message to our so-called leaders, it has to be 'sort it out, and quick'.

                                     *      *      *      *

Exceptionally fine weather continued throughout October; something I don't remember ever happening before. Then November had its moments, and even December, although evening fires were eventually lit.

                            

We have a good stock of firewood, we are both in reasonable health, the coffers will allow for an adequate amount of thin gruel through January, we have a new grandson, and we can still put our backs into reasonably hard physical work. We have a lot to be grateful for.

So, I will leave 2014 with a very recent picture of our lovely Bunny. Grown, ain't he!

Not everything has been perfect. My good friend and neighbour, José, was burgled two weeks ago, on a pre-Christmas Sunday afternoon, and it has shocked the whole neighbourhood. Hopefully our 2 dogs would see off any unwelcome visitors, but we are being extra cautious.

As usual I wish everyone a very happy and peaceful New Year. Keep in touch, and may we all be together again to celebrate the end of 2015. Cro xx

Goodbyes of 2014.

                                 
                                 
In 2014, the world of entertainment said goodbye to Joe Cocker, Robin Williams, Joan Rivers, Mickey Rooney, Shirley Temple, Billie Whitelaw, Rik Mayall, Lauren Bacall, and Bob Hoskins (amongst others).

A few notable British politicians also bade their farewells. Irish rabble-rouser Rev Ian Paisley will no longer be treating us to his 'dulcet tones', naughty ex Liberal MP Jeremy Thorpe will no longer enthrall us with tales of skullduggery, and the man that the KGB apparently referred to as an 'unnecessary simpleton', Anthony Wedgewood-Benn, is no longer 'The most dangerous man in Britain'.

Others I would like to pay homage to here are the passengers and crew of Malaysian Airways flights MH 370 and MH 17, and AirAsia QZ 8501. The 145 schoolchildren and teachers of Peshawar. And all those who were slaughtered by ISIS, ISIL, IS, Boko Haram, Hamas, Al-Shabaab, and all the other myriad terrorist organisations.

There are countless others who deserve mention, but as usual I refer just to those that I made a point of noting in my diary. Rest in Peace all.

Sports.

                            

I no longer play any type of 'sport', but in my day I considered it essential.

In Winter I played Rugby, and in the Summer; Cricket and Rowing. I am of course talking about my school days (other than Rugby which I briefly played later at club level).

I was pretty hopeless at all running and jumping sports, but played a reasonable game of Fives. My Tennis was erratic, and my Golf totally hopeless. Without question my two favourite sports were Rugby and Rowing; especially the Rowing.

Rowing 8's is an interesting pastime. Your feet are strapped onto a footplate, you slide back and forth on a tiny uncomfortable wheeled seat, and you can't see where you're going; only where you've been. Whilst putting all your effort into making the wretched thing go as fast as possible, your safety is in the hands of some small spotty person who shouts at you incessantly (Coxes don't usually stand up, as in the illustration).

One of my enduring memories of rowing was coming across groups of six-fingered Fenland fishermen who'd shout obscenities at us as we snagged their lines with our oars. Our response in perfect nine man unison was always a stentorian.... "Fuck off". It still makes me laugh when I think about it.

As far as competitions are concerned I rowed at Henley, on The Serpentine, and at The Cambridge Bumps; always unsuccessfully. The Cambridge University 2nd crew (Goldie) kept a boat in our boathouse, and used our stretch of the river in preference to their own. We often practiced 'starts' together, and they always pulled away from us with frustrating ease.

Rugby is a fool's game. Other than trying to score a few points, it's basically an excuse for one big PUNCH UP. I loved it, but usually ended up as the loser; which is why my city bosses suggested I stopped.

Nowadays I play Croquet and Petanque. Relaxed, sociable, and unhurried, they are games that can be accompanied by a pleasant glass or two of Pastis. They have neither a time limit, nor officious interfering referees. Rules are mostly ignored, but there is more laughter than fisticuffs.

I suppose I might once have been called 'sporty'..... but not now.

Monty's Birthday.

Monty is 4 today (28. 12. 2014). There's really not a lot more to say.

He'll eat his favourite Knacki sausages for lunch, open a few presents, and probably have a few extra treats, but that's it.

I think he's slowly losing his wild adolescent ways; he now occasionally comes when called, no longer disappears for hours on end rifling through our neighbour's compost heaps, and is almost attempting to be friendly. He's also trying to learn to speak English. 

Nearly 4 years ago he looked like this. Aaaaaaah.

                                 

So HAPPY BIRTHDAY Monty. I do hope your pink Summer nose returns to its Winter black a.s.a.p.

Tomorrow is Lady Magnon's birthday (37 again), so we'll celebrate the two great occasions together.

Cro (Daddy, The Boss, etc) xxx

SOME TIME LATER;  Here he is opening one of his presents; a new collar.