That pencil pot

It was noticed recently that the pot in my drawing above has its handle on the side. I've owned this antique jug for so long, that I'd forgotten how odd this may appear.

My only explanation is that it was originally used to heat some liquid (milk maybe?) against a fire, thus leaving the handle cool enough to grasp.

What I am sure of is that all such jugs are the same, having one scorched side and one non-scorched side (where the handle is), suggesting that my theory is correct (not sure if this is very clear in the pic). But why would anyone want to heat milk, or any other liquid, in a jug?

If you have any further theories, they would be appreciated.

Serious Sunday: In 5 year's time?

                                  

Apparently this is how ISIS sees the world in 5 year's time, with Islamic states being established throughout the Middle East, N Africa, and even up into Spain.

With the terrifying ruthlessness, speed, and efficiency with which they have taken much of Iraq, it wouldn't surprise me if at least part of the above becomes realised.

Be prepared to man the barricades chaps; pitchforks at the ready!

And is there Honey still for tea?

                           
                                     

I've never liked plates, bowls, or jars, that tell me what I should be serving on them, eating from them, or storing in them.

Big bowls with PASTA written all over them, or cheese boards with CHEESE etched into the wood, are two good examples.

However, I've always liked beehive shaped honey pots with bee-topped lids, which I suppose are quite similar in a way (the above are not mine).

In fact, if I was a Honey eater (which sadly I'm not), the house would be overflowing with antique-ish bee-covered Honey pots. I can almost hear Lady Magnon giving thanks for Diabetes as I write.

I suppose I'll have to own-up, I do own an ancient pale blue enamelled flour bin with FLOUR written on the side, as well as a bread board with BRAED carved into it. We all have our faults; even certain wood carvers.

First Aubergine.

They all look so beautiful, it's almost a shame to cook them.

We have our first Aubergine. I'm determined, this year, to keep on top of production. As soon as things become edible, we shall eat them (or find a home for them).

Last year I ended-up with our Aubergine plants covered with ageing fruits, most of which finished their lives on the compost heap. This year I'm determined to use at least 90% of what Haddock's produces.

If only our Tomatoes were ripening I could crack-on with my preserving programme. It'll probably still be a couple of weeks before I see any quantity of Tomato reddening. I really need my Tomatoes and Courgettes to ripen at the same time, as it's these two that I bottle together mostly.

I always seem to be WAITING for something.

Those Séchoir Steps.

Work advances extremely slowly up at the barn, but at last the front steps are finished. To build, and finish, them took about 2 months; it should have taken one week at the most.

Anyway, the builder managed to adhere exactly to my original design, and I'm pleased to say they have the 'look' I was hoping for.

They'll mellow.

Both the plumber and the chippy have been this week to assess and give estimates, but we still await the electrician. It must be eating all those snails that makes them imitate their pace!

Next report in 2015/6 maybe?

Sod's Law.

Why is it that these almost inedible grapes grow by the million, whereas my delicious eating grapes produce hardly anything.

The above are Baco or Bacco; a rootstock vine that was imported into France after the late 19th C Phylloxera epidemic. We have them climbing all around the front of our house, and they produce grapes by the wheel-barrow load.

My eating grapes on the other hand, that I grow at Haddock's, have about 4 bunches between 6 separate vines.

The Baco grapes make great juice, but otherwise they are harvested and taken directly to the compost, otherwise Hornets swoop on them, and people become nervous.

If only there was a good eating grape with the vigour and productivity of my Baco, I'd be a happy bunny.

Everything you ever wanted to know about Chestnut growing; but were afraid to ask.

Two weeks ago the Chestnut trees were in flower. If you enlarge the above, you should be able to differentiate between the 'wild' Chestnuts, and their cultivated grafted cousins. The cultivated ones have the paler (flowered) canopies, which look like below.

The bees were brought in, the plantations mowed and pampered, and fingers crossed throughout the area.

                                  

Now it's the beginning of July, and the flowers have all dropped. The ground resembles the passing of a dreadlock clipping ceremony.

Next stage (about 4 months away) will be the harvest, when the fruits will look like this and taste wonderful.

                                  

But for the moment, let's all enjoy summer to the fullest; autumn seems a long way away.