A little midsummer madness ...

My life is like a Peter Greenaway film these days.. I mean fancy finding yourself in a field at 7.30 a.m in the morning surrounded by acres of lurid plastic including a singing frog and a full set of prosthetic limbs. You may well be thinking that the recent heatwave has gone to my head.. and I suppose it is partly to blame for the surreal quality of my waking day. I am not good with heat and much like my tabby boy, I tend to flop when the mercury rises and wonder why I wasn't born in a land that embraces siestas...

This morning.. like every other morning this week.. wide eyed and sleepless at 5.a.m.. so tiptoe down to the lower deck and sit in the first rays of the day to eat my muesli in the garden listening to a bird that has puzzled me for some weeks.. He comes and goes.. or she comes and goes... but when said bird returns.. it sings.. no.. whistles so loudly and vibrantly.. I have yet to learn which bird it is but am determined to identify this exuberant and vociferous visitor..

This morning.. I was also visited.. a little too closely for my comfort, as I was sitting in CK nightie in garden feeling very exposed, when this hot air balloon wafted over my head..a common sight here in the summer mornings and evenings, which never fails to thrill. All the dogs in the neighbourhood start barking when these galleons of the sky float over our houses. It always makes me think of the book by Dodie Smith.. Twilight Barking.
Anyhoo.. after wading through limbs and plastic in a field above Bath city this morning.. I took my newly purchased psychedelic plastic bowl and found a field heavy with Elderflower trees and picked enough of the fragrant frothy heads.. to make Hugh Fearnley Whittingstalls delicious Elderflower champagne.. a very fine and a very explosive brew and so easy to make...

More than the 100's of meringues I will attempt to bake this week for the first Vintage & Handmade Textile Fair next Saturday.. Making meringues is childs play really.. but I always find it fraught with unforced errors.. like separating the whites from the yolks for starters, then there is the whipping of the egg whites to get them really stiff so one can hold the bowl over the head without them falling out of bowl onto head.. lastly there is the removal of cooked meringues from the baking tray. My last batch of meringues.. made with brown sugar.. lovely and chewy inside.. were a devil to get off the baking trays, despite being lined carefully with baking parchment....

These intended meringues might end up as Eton Mess .. just as delicious even if they are squished.

Thank you Emma from Silver Pebble for identifying my birdy friend.. it is indeed the Song Thrush a bird with a big voice! Click on link to hear this melodic bird.

Monday evening...
It is 9.50 p.m and my visiting Song Thrush is sitting in a tree at the bottom of the garden.. giving it his all.. Just lovely!