How can a salad have so many calories and other motorway tales...?

Being avid travellers it is not surprising that we have visited more motorway services, truck-stops, coach parks and bikers’ bars than we have plush restaurants and I have a wealth of tales and recommendations but, as services go, the one at Michaelwood on the M5 (between J14 – 13) is definitely the worst on record. Fair enough, I have been at coach stops in India where the ladies’ is a communal hole in the ground but, with a well-designed Shalwar Kemeez, that’s not as bad as the tip that was Michaelwood.

I know it was bank holiday Monday but then so did the manager and, given the travelling distance from Devon and Cornwall to said services, any manager with an ounce of credibility would have readied him or herself for a very busy day. They would have made sure that there were enough staff on hand to clear-up after the trillions of ignorant families who happily throw their waste on the ground (believe me I watched one lady do this in-front of her grandchildren). They would have ensured that the toilets were kept spotless – even if that meant more regular checks. They would have put extra staff behind the counters so that queuing time was less than fifteen minutes. Anyway, I’m ranting and that’s not my story.

            What I really could not believe was the rather tasty looking shrimp salad that I found in the chiller cabinet. Not wanting a large dinner, given that the most strenuous activity we had planned for the rest of the day was the 179.3 mile journey that we had remaining – and we would be sitting down the whole time, I looked instead to pre-packed and light nutrition. Thankfully nutritional guidelines were included. The salad itself looked tasty albeit that, as it was pre-packed and on a motorway services, there were very few shrimps included and the salad ingredients themselves were rather sparse. It certainly didn’t weigh much, fortunately I checked out the calorific value before purchasing – a whopping 900 calories per pack! What was in the dressing I ask? Lard? Mmmm – now there’s a recipe I could look out for – lard vinaigrette.

            Speaking of recipes, I promised this one – but please don’t tell my pigs. Now I got the inspiration for this from Nigel Slater but I don’t have any of his books, I just happened to be at my sister’s house when he was on television and this is what he cooked – it was so simple I could remember it till I got home. However I have found a link to the recipe which I’ve included below, as ever though I’ve added a few bits of my own.

Recipe: Sausage meatballs with mustard and basil

Source: Nigel Slater

Ingredients:

Pasta (I like shells with this recipe as there’s lots of thick sauce)

Sausage meat (I have my own but if you don’t then you’ll need to squeeze it out of some tasty sausages)

Olive oil

A few spoons of Mustard (I use Dijon and wholegrain together)

Fresh Basil (heaps of it)

Double Cream

White wine

Here’s what I do:

Flour a plate and wet your hands (never flour your hands you just get a sticky mess). Roll the sausage meat into tiny balls; use just a bit more than a teaspoon so that the ball still fits in the centre of the palm of your hands. When rolled you can collect them on the plate but don’t let them stick together. Now’s a good time to put your pasta on. Gently fry your meatballs in a splash of oil (how much depends on how fatty your meat is) – you may need to do this in batches and brown them as much as you can, so they’re almost cooked through. Remove from the pan and add a good splash of wine (a very good splash) and scrape the pan down so you get all the crusty bits into the wine, return the balls to the wine to finish cooking and reduce the wine to just a thick sauce at the bottom of the pan. Add your mustard(s) giving it a good stir – do this to your liking, how much will depend on your tastes and the strength of the mustard(s) you choose. Finally add your cream, loads of torn basil and season (really you do not need salt – your sausage and mustard has more than enough, but you will want black pepper). Check the taste and thickness and serve with your cooked pasta.

            Last time I served this I served it with the Madeira beans I told you about. They really cut through the creaminess of the sauce but you can also serve with salad or if you’re really pressed for time just wilt some spinach into your pasta before serving.

            Enjoy. With wine – of course.

I don't normally do bad things but...

Yesterday was one of the exceptions. We were on the road for seven and a half hours, driving through torrential rain, broiling clouds, mist and sunshine – it was one of those days when your sunglasses were on and off more times than a Guide’s nightie (or is that a bride's nightie?). We drove through Welsh mountains, Hereford hills and lastly the Wye Valley before we made our way across the Severn and landed up in Exeter and our first experience of a Jury’s Inn.

            The journey was a dream for anyone who identifies themselves as tea and cakes aficionados. The whole distance (A5, A49 and then A466) was punctuated by tearooms with almost clockwork regularity – rather like those lame horror films that you used to watch in the nineties – the ones where you knew someone was about to die because a further 12 minutes and 16 seconds had just elapsed (watch Halloween 5 if you don’t know what I mean). We had cheese on toast and filter coffees in a walkers’ café near Capel Curig before descending into a rainy Betws-y-Coed, staring wistfully at the beautiful shops and resisting the urge to park up and have an early cream-tea. If you love days out with views, tea-rooms and every possible variation of outdoors’ shops then follow this route. There’s no point me recommending any one café over another – just stop when you cannot bare the thirst anymore and make sure you have a cream-tea or maybe some of that Welsh cake.

We stopped in Leominster for our afternoon stop but if you haven’t been along this route before then I would suggest you stop in Hereford and make sure you visit the Cathedral and the Hereford Mappa Mundi. It’s expensive but one of the most breath-taking sights in England. If we hadn’t been in rather a hurry to get to Exeter I would have paid the fee to go and see it again. The anticipation of the sight is as wondrous as the map itself. A corridor of history around the map, punctuated with detailed translations of the various parts of the world as it was understood at the time. Detailed annotations such as ‘There be monsters…’ how I would have loved to have been able to explore this World – the one where it was believed that Heaven and Hell were integral parts of our Earth along with seas and lands full of ogres.

Finally you enter an ante-room and already the temperature has dropped, in this room your eyes adjust to the dulled lights and you await the slow sweep of the vast glass doors as you are at last allowed into the map room itself and stand in front of this splendid relic from our past. If you want to read more about it before you visit you could click here.

Drinking a beer in the bar at our hotel whilst ruminating over where to eat – we decided against the hotel menu of overpriced mediocre food with very expensive (and no doubt ordinary) wines, opting instead for more reasonably priced mediocre food and less expensive (but still rather ordinary) wine at Café Rouge – we worried for a moment or two whether this was going to be the best venue for sleep, given the abundance of men in various states of fancy dress and women dressed in very small dresses and precarious heels. This was Saturday night in Exeter in summer and Jury’s Inn seemed to be the place to stay for stag and hen dos.

Still we had a pleasant evening at Café Rouge, a gentle stroll around the Cathedral and returned to our comfortable beds having forgotten our fears and I drifted easily into sleep. Anyone who has suffered insomnia will know how special this kind of sleep is and how badly you react to being woken from it at 03:28 by inconsiderate groups of revellers who proceed to continue their party in the room next to yours. And continue it until some time around 5am. I am not normally murderous but everyone has limits.

I consoled myself with the fact that I would get my revenge in the morning and finally drifted back to sleep when the party people quietened just as it was starting to get light.

As I said, I do not normally do bad things so I would like to take this opportunity to apologise to the revellers who were taking some well needed sleep this morning. It was me who gave you those wake-up calls between 07:30 and 07:45 – I know you didn’t actually book them but it was a lovely morning and it was a shame for you to miss it. Hmmm, it was also me who hung the ‘Please Make-Up This Room’ sign on your door – sadly I had to go to a Baptism this morning so I wasn’t around to see that bit of fun.

I am on holiday for one more day but will be posting recipes here soon.

So that was this year's funniest joke?

In case you haven’t seen the news from the Edinburgh Fringe I thought I’d share it with you. And if you want to read the news report for yourself then you can click here. It goes like this,

            I was asked to provide a password that was eight characters long so I typed in Snow White and The Seven Dwarves.

            There’s hope for us all then.

            Sorry for not checking in yesterday – I was busy with end of season sales and other bad things. Here’s the recipe though…

Tear and Share Bread

Ingredients

350g Strong White Bread Flour

1 tsp salt

1tsp fast action dried yeast (or just use a full sachet if you get the sachet kind)

1tsp dried herbs (as you like, mixed or just oregano or basil)

225ml water (use sparingly)

3 tbls olive oil (plus more for drizzling)

Manchego or Ossau-Iraty cheese (I know they’re not English but the Spanish and French make these wonderful hard cheeses that are great for this bread and just for nibbling with red wine – try them)

Pitted black olives

Here’s how I do it

Put the flour, yeast, salt and herbs in a dish (or mixer/food processor) and combine then add the olive oil and give it a stir. Slowly add the water (you may not need all of it) gently stirring (or use your hand) to bring it together – you want to use just enough of the water to get the sides of the dish clean so don’t just tip it all in. Once it’s formed a dough then you either continue letting the mixer beat it for around 5 minutes or turn it out on to a preferably unfloured surface (marble works well). Even if you do the main kneading in the mixer you still need to turn it out and do the last 3 to 5 minutes yourself. This is where you really get to know your dough and understand how bread works. Just keep kneading until it feel silky and elastic (if you’re unsure there’s heaps of videos on YouTube). Once you’re reached this stage you should feel calm and your dough will be lovely. At this point work in your chopped olives – just enough to your liking. Split the dough in two and then put both pieces in an oiled plastic bag for 10 minutes.

            Next remove one piece of dough and hang it from your two hands, letting it stretch and shape. You’ll probably want to turn it a few times and you should get some thin bits and thicker bits (especially round the edges). When it looks the right size – big enough for four people to share and if you go any bigger it may rip kind of size – then put it on a floured baking tray and leave to prove (double in size). Repeat the same for the other piece. If your house is warm it should take around 45 minutes to rise. Now you just need to grate on your cheese, sprinkle on some lovely salt grains (I like the ones from the Carmargue) and drizzle with oil. Bake at Gas Mark 7/220°C for about 15 minutes until golden. Now you can enjoy. It freezes brilliantly so put the left overs in freezer bags – they reheat in around ten minutes.

Madeira Green Beans

Ingredients

Green beans (English are best)

Cherry Tomatoes

Olive Oil

Garlic

Madeira

I came up with this recipe as I think the red and green look lovely together on the plate – I just added the Madeira for fun but it went all sweet and caramelised on the beans which was lovely against the crunch of the beans and the softness of the tomatoes.

Here’s What I Do

Chop the beans into bite-sized pieces. Halve the tomatoes and chop your garlic. Fry off the garlic in a bit of olive oil – don’t let it colour as the Madeira will do that later. Throw in the beans and stir fry for about 3-5 minutes – not too long, they still want crunch. Tip in a good amount of Madeira (or anything else you like) careful it will spit. Let that bubble away to almost nothing, just a sticky coating on your beans then tip in the tomatoes and stir to warm through.

This was delicious…

Now don’t tell the pigs and I’ll let you know a really good recipe for meatballs tomorrow that went beautifully with the beans.

Seeing the world through a sceptimist's eyes - with some trepidation thrown in for good measure...

Radio Two, Monday morning and I was listening to Pause for Thought – I didn’t get to mention this yesterday but I love this word. Apparently a sceptimist is an optimist with the hand-brake on. What a great idea – and just where I think I am at the moment, busy dreaming wonderful futures for myself through the day and then applying the brakes during night-time which generally has the annoying effect of spoiling my sleep – though last night it was the weather and an irritating blind that woke me rather than my brain’s handbrake.

            Spending the day writing means I sometimes forget to check on my darling pigs, I remembered yesterday and they were fine all day, even managing to avoid the pealing skin of sunburn, today was a different story. I went out, camera at the ready so that I could brighten up this blog and what did I find? Just the Reverend, quietly churning over the ground and looking for bugs and truffles as pigs are wont to do. (I’ll let you know if we ever find truffles.)

            Where then was Pig – the well behaved one? With some amount of trepidation I gently called her name, soon raising my call to a rather concerned shout. I couldn’t see any gaping holes in fences so felt sure she hadn’t gone off on a neighbouring garden mission but nevertheless, I couldn’t find her. Then, just like yesterday I heard a grunt and next news a huge swine was barrelling towards me – I know you can’t really see the speed in my photo but I think you get the idea. And where had she been?

            In our sacred trees no less.

            Well they’re not really sacred but she’s not meant to go there so you get the picture. Pigs have very strong snouts and the thought of two swine indiscriminately rooting round our trees’ precious root systems is rather distressing. This time they’ve (for I’m sure The Reverend must be involved also) managed to power down a 6 foot piece of fencing just for the pleasure of basking in our trees – well at least now I know how they keep off the sunburn.

            Let’s calm with a recipe.

Peppered Salmon with Garlic Chickpeas

Inspiration: Good Food Friends App

Ingredients: (to serve two)

Salmon fillets (I prefer skin on) – however much you want to eat

1 x Lime

Baby spinach

Cherry Tomatoes

1 x carton chickpeas

Peppercorns

Paprika

Garlic

Olive oil

Homemade chicken stock (remember your carcass? substitute veg stock for non-meat eaters)

Homemade Tear and Share bread to serve (recipe tomorrow – it’s ever so easy)

Here’s what I do

First warm your oven to gas mark 5 and salt the salmon skin (I use salt from the Carmargue because I’ve been there and it is the most delicious salt but just use the best you can find).  Leave for a moment whilst you chop some garlic and put it in a dish with your cherry tomatoes, drizzle them with olive oil and then place on the bottom shelf of the oven. Heat some oil in a pan (or hob/oven dish if you have one) and put the salmon in skin-side down cooking it until the skin is crispy. Whilst it’s cooking crush up some peppercorns along with the zest from a lime, the paprika and a couple of teaspoons of olive oil so you get a paste. Spread this over the top (flesh-side) of your salmon but mind you don’t burn your fingers. Once the salmon is coated and the skin crispy transfer it to the top shelf of the oven – it will take 12 to 20 minutes depending on the thickness of your salmon.

            Meanwhile, chop some more garlic and fry this off in a small saucepan, when golden tip in your chickpeas and stir to coat. Add some warmed chicken stock – about a ladleful (or try wine for a different flavour) and allow to reduce a little before mashing it to a lumpy consistency – you don’t want to squash every single chickpea. Stir in your baby spinach and put on the lid so that it wilts.

            Serve the whole thing so it looks lovely, along with candles (not for consumption), wine and a good friend.

           

The Pigs are Escaping (is it the smell of our Sunday roast?)...

Having had our two new additions for over a week we decided it was time to let them roam around more. Still in a restricted area of course – we need to know they can find their way home and obviously we don’t want them getting too adventurous and going digging up neighbours’ gardens (as two unruly previous pigs did)! Yesterday morning then, we opened the gate to the pen and let them have access to the old vegetable plot and also a large stretch of very exciting rough land (well I think it is exciting if you’re either very small – like the size of a Borrower or a pig).

            Now I’m not sure whose idea it was (although Pig maintains it was all down to The Reverend) but around 2pm I was alerted to the fact that something was amiss by the noise from my hens. This wasn’t the hysterical alarm calls that warn of a fox visit but nevertheless they warranted inspection. Just as I got outside I caught sight of The Reverend tiptoeing past my greenhouse with Pig close behind and they certainly were not supposed to be there.

            Knowing a little bit about swine and having already become close friends with Ezekiel and Pig I quickly grabbed some pig nuts and encouraged the beasts to come to me – which they duly did, nibbling my toes along with the food and leaving some nice smears of mud on my legs (which I understand is good for my skin). My plan was to keep luring them steadily back to their allotted area via the use of tasty pig food.

            And it would have worked…

            Bar for the fact that The Reverend is clearly a rather unruly and adventurous soul and not at all worried about dashing off to pastures new even if it means leaving Pig to snaffle all the food. Before I knew what was happening The Rev was off up the lane, bound speedily for my father in law’s farm – luckily The Rev had turned left instead of right at the end of our drive. Now my pigs were separated and I had to try and round up Pig single-handedly whilst all the while looking out for The Reverend and hoping to capture him on his return, lest he should dive off down the village and wreak havoc.

            Luckily Rob returned and was able to laugh (encouragingly?) at me as I tried to shepherd a reluctant Pig back to her quarters whilst darting nervous glances up the lane in anticipation of either a violent clamour and/or the return of The Reverend (for I felt sure she would return, given the presence of two large and violent looking – though they are in fact very loving – German Shepherds in the farm yard).

            It wasn’t long before I was proved correct, out of the corner of my eye I spied a movement about 400 metres up the lane – and it was approaching fast. Now I don’t know how much my darlings weigh but I can tell you that when they nudge me for food in the mornings it is with some great force and when standing on their hind legs they can get their feet to my shoulder height – so they’re not small or lightweight that’s for sure. The sight of one of these beasts running downhill towards you at great speed is definitely a cause for concern and it is testament to my considerable farming skills that I was able to maintain my position, attempting to block any further passage downhill without diving for cover behind the nearest fence.

            In the end we got them both back in their new garden and managed to block up their last exit point.

            Today all I have to worry about is sunburn.

            And they can forget about Sunday Roast for at least another week…

I Used to be a Lonely Old Woman...

The triple-height glass doors swing outwards long before I reach the top of the stone steps, accentuating the grandiose quality of the building.

            ‘Remember Harri,’ my niece whispers in that extra-loud stage speech that only actors and the very young can pull off, ‘you have to be very quiet in here.’

            I raise my eyebrows at her mother, neither of us sure where she’s got this idea from. This will be their first library trip and I think they will be in for a surprise.

            Accrington library opened in 1908 and its huge marble floors, oak shelving and high atrium, graced by a beautiful stained glass window from the artist Gustav Hiller (1865–1946) are testament to its glorious past. A sweeping staircase draws the viewer’s eyes up, appearing to float gracefully above the readers having been keyed into the wall and needing no visible supports. Looking round though, one cannot help wondering what a time-travelling Edwardian would think of the place now.

            To my left is the non-fiction section, sadly rather sparse in shelving but (perhaps) mediated by the vast banks of internet-ready computers all occupied by youths in hoodies surfing social and gaming websites. A group of teenagers play noisily up and down the stairs – their voices echoing in the vaulted ceiling. I remember that it is summer holidays and it’s raining heavily.      

The children’s section is in the middle of the main fiction section, instantly recognisable from the obligatory engine-shaped bookcase, low tables with drawing equipment and a well-worn chequered rug in what used-to-be bright colours. I imagine that this is intended to make reading accessible to children and remember the forlorn crate of dog-eared children’s books with two small, hard school chairs to which I was subjected on childhood library trips.

My nieces are excited at the prospect of up to 20 books each but only for as long as it takes them to spot the strangely dressed lady with a real-life parrot on her shoulder. Actually, it’s a Black-headed Caique.

The woman is wearing a woollen hat pulled close to her face (it’s hand-knitted though unlikely to be called anything other than weird by the younger generation); from it tendrils of grey wispy hair escape. Silhouetted you’d be hard-pressed to determine her gender, clad as she is in long formless jumper over flecked black slacks and serviceable boots. Close up, however, one is struck by the softness of her skin and the sincere blue of her eyes. A cheroot dangles casually from her lips as she talks, occasionally she removes it, twirls it in her fingers before bobbing it back.

‘I used to be a lonely old lady,’ she says, placing the Caique on a chair back and encouraging my nieces to stroke it, ‘but not anymore. I say everyone who is single should buy a parrot – you’ll never be alone again.’

I realise as we chat that this is the first time I have spoken to a cheroot dangler in my life.

Game Three - so my sister has never been consternated before...

Although she did tell me that she had been - she was in church and it was to do with affirming her allegiance to Christ. This led me to the alphabet game – and to wondering if the difficulty of the harder letters is compounded by a full grasp (or lack of grasp) of our wonderful and varied language?

            Ah well, I was consternated yesterday. For those of you who know me well I plan my meals in advance, write accurate shopping lists and have very little waste (and what there is is consumed by our pigs so there’s a bit of a full cycle going on there anyway). At some time going up to five, having spent too long writing I fear, I decided to check the rudiments of my planned menu – a Chicken Saltimbocca (I know – not necessarily politically correct given yesterday’s blog but I did tell you I plan my menus in advance). To my mounting horror and dismay, I found that the only ingredient I had got right was the chicken – how could this be? Where did the basil and the prosciutto come in? Why hadn’t I bought white beans and cherry tomatoes? What about that lovely bottle of Marsala waiting to be used in complement of my beautiful ingredients?

            Ever the prepared chef, I managed to find a carton of chick peas and one of chopped tomatoes which I figured would suffice (yes they can be bought in cartons now – more easily recycled and better for you too – if you’re the kind of person who likes to use half and then stow it in the fridge). Just as I was reassembling my thoughts and calming my madly beating heart I had a moment of enlightenment (these are more frequent since I started practising Pranayama each morning). Could I be reading the wrong recipe?

            Indeed… where I should have been is in my Good Food Healthy Recipes App (iPhone users click here). Now I could proceed using my planned ingredients and – the food was as delicious as expected. So much so that I thought I’d share the recipe with you today.

Chicken Saltimbocca with Basil Mash

Source: Good Food Healthy Recipes App

Ingredients:

2 skinless chicken breast fillets taken from a full bird

Basil

Prosciutto

Olive Oil

2tbsp Marsala (I use Madeira because I love it and I have it in)

100ml chicken stock

Potatoes (however many you normally use for mash)

Milk

1tbsp grated Parmesan

Method:

(Here’s how I do it)

Chop your potatoes and cook in boiling water (no need to season as you’re adding the parmesan later). When cooked you should mash with the milk (you should warm this if you can be bothered – the potatoes stay hotter) and then add the parmesan (I add more than the recipe states – I love it), finally stir through some finely torn basil (I never chop it but you can do if you wish).

            Meanwhile add a small amount of oil to a preferably non-stick frying pan (it’s just easier if you have a non-stick). In this fry off four basil leaves and two pieces of prosciutto until crisp (the leaves will probably need turning). Put these on a plate to one side. Now add some more oil and brown your chicken on both sides. (Please do not buy chicken breast pieces – they charge you a fortune for the privilege and you’re far better to buy a full, free-range bird. Two hungry eaters can get two main meals plus a hearty stock or soup from one full bird so it makes much more sense.)

            When the chicken is nicely browned add the Marsala (or Madeira or any similar alcohol you like) and let this bubble away – I don’t bother with measuring, I just put in what I think, you just bubble if for longer if you add too much. When it is thicker add your stock (preferably home-cooked from your last carcass) and turn the pan to a simmer until the chicken is cooked through – you may need to add more stock so have some ready in case.

            When the chicken is cooked you can start to plate up, putting two basil leaves and a piece of ham on each fillet. Make the mash look nice and maybe add some fried courgettes or steamed broccoli. Meanwhile bubble that liquid until it is nicely thickened and coat the plates. There should no need to season this liquid – the salt from the ham has already flavoured the pan and there is probably salt in your stock.

            Enjoy with some good wine and  conversation.

Now, binary – ah, I think I must leave that until tomorrow, I’ve definitely talked too much but perhaps you could try and fit consternation, pranayama and marsala into an alphabet sentence?

Game Two - Things you only know if you work from home.

Let’s start with the buttons at the bottom of the page – the ones that ask you what you think of my blog. Well, to be honest ‘cool’ (one of yesterday’s options) is not a word I would use – these were the buttons foisted upon me by the powers that be at Blogger. Now, a day wiser in the blogging field, and I realise I can change these options. Please note the new option ‘zeitgeist’ far more one of my words and also topical – fellow insomniacs could try using it at the end of an alphabet sentence – certainly more interesting than zoo and zebra.

            Regarding the alphabet sentence game – please don’t feel that you should miss out if you are lucky enough to sleep well each night – post your sentence even if in truth you wrote it through the day – I look forward to reading a wide selection.

            So, things you only know if you work from home or are retired (and happen to be at home rather than in Spain or lunching in Harrods) – firstly you know when a fox is eating your chickens. This is a good thing – last time a fox decided to eat my chickens I was at work. It was a gloriously sunny day and I’d cycled to work then taken an extra-long route home in order to benefit from the sunshine – only to be treated on my return to the site of feathers and corpses decorating my lane and driveway. That day I jumped off my bike, picked up the nearest corpse and, cradling it like a baby, sat at the top of my drive and cried. I had half hoped someone would find me and comfort me but, living in the middle of nowhere, this was unlikely. Anyway, yesterday I was working from home so was instantly aware of the fox from the din my hens were making.

            This was rather like one of the scenes from a horror movie – my chickens kicked off a good ten minutes before the fox appeared in full – it must have been lurking in the long grass or the bushes, tormenting them and me. I kept going out, wandering round my house, trying to calm my chickies and put said fox off its intended lunch. You end up in a state of limbo – every time you sit back at your desk you hear the chickens and cockerel crowing with fear and you jump up again – not sure whether to continue typing or go and have another futile look.

            About ten minutes into this game the stakes changed – now my chickens were running. I dashed onto my verandah only to catch sight of the fox sprinting past me intent on catching one of my babies. I did my usual fox prevention act – which normally works a treat – standing on my verandah screaming and shouting obscenities (not sure if the fox understands but they make me feel better) and flapping my hands noisily. My throat hurts afterwards but – until yesterday – it has always worked. This time it did not.

            The fox continued in its pursuit managing to grab one of my young Marans by the tail. I ran across the grass until I was maybe two metres from the fox who was still trying to de-feather my friend. I had only one option – I threw my car keys (for I was actually due to leave the house), managing to hit it on the head. (From a health and safety point of view I should point out that this is not a recommended deterrent – especially when the fox is in long grass standing next to a stream though on this occasion the fox did scarper and my keys were located quickly and unharmed.)

            On a lighter note, the second thing you only know if you work from home is how nice your bin-men are. Mine are lovely and they really brightened my post-lunch reverie.

            Lastly, I thought I would close by telling you about last-night’s sleep-inducing game, reminded to me by my youngest sister but I fear I have written enough for one day. So, a taster for tomorrow – I shall begin with binary and no, it does not help you sleep.

Game One - What I thought about when I wasn't sleeping

Suffice it to say that the path to recovery from insomnia is a difficult one. Currently I tend to sleep well for five to seven days before I have another sleepless night. There appear to be two kinds of sleepless night – the kind where you fall asleep and then wake – wide awake – and the kind where you just cannot fall asleep in the first place. Last night was of the latter variety.

            I have read all the self-help books and I know for sure that writing a blog about my sleeplessness is probably enough to perpetuate the problem as I will be reaffirming my insomniac behaviour rather than trying to think around it; indeed by discussing my sleeplessness I may well deny myself good quality sleep for months. That said, as I lay awake last night thinking of my current venture into writing and understanding (with a clarity never afforded to me during the working day) that I need to start a blog if I am to be successful I found myself in the curious position of not wanting to fall asleep for fear of forgetting anything.

            All the books on creativity tell me I should keep a pad and pencil by my bed for just such occasion. I, on the other hand, choose to repeat each valuable thought and sentence two to three times, all the while mulling over any new insights, in order to ensure that my creativity is not lost to the twilight hours.

            It doesn’t help me sleep.

            In desperation, having tried the plaiting wool and staring at blank canvasses techniques to no avail I devised a new mind-numbing game. I decided to write a sentence/passage where each new word started with the next letter of the alphabet. The first six words came surprisingly easily – and I liked them.

            Afterwards Barry could definitely enjoy food.

Now the trick here, if you are playing the game properly, is to prevent your mind from thinking of anything other than the next word and that word must begin with ‘g’ – are you getting the picture? Eventually I came up with:

Afterwards Barry could definitely enjoy food; good honest ingredients jostled kindly, lamenting most natural overtures peacefully. Quite relatively, Sandra took up violence with xylophones - youthful zealot.

I was pleased with my idea – it made (some) sense and I hadn’t got out of bed to make use of a dictionary.

Still, I was not asleep. Now I was thinking how to make this into an internet game – perhaps challenge people on my blog – are now there was an idea.