Cricket Tea

I suppose it eventually had to happen, after 14 years of avoidance; this Sunday I served my first cricket tea. Ring out all ye bells! Although, to be fair to myself, there are very good logistical reasons for this, one of them being our midget kitchen. This photo was taken standing in the back door. Note the two ring table top cooker (no heat control on the plates) with bungee hook to hold the knackered door closed. It can only be used with the inside door shut. Cooking in a cell would be more fun. I daresay our landlord could find a space crunching solution and get a normal sized oven in, but he hasn't bothered so far...nor to provide a fire extinguisher. (Mind you, where would he put one?)

As you can see, there isn't a lot of space and most of it is taken up by cupboards/sink/fridge & washing machine crammed into an area the size of a large broom cupboard. Things get placed randomly wherever there is a gap, hence the washing powder in the pile of mixing bowls. Anyhow, I managed to get four cakes baked on Friday. By hand of course, as there is no room for a mixer. The other problems are that we live 15 miles away from the home ground and only have a motorbike to transport everything over. Tea for a minimum of 24 people is a lot of tucker.

However, Andy took the cakes over to the clubhouse on Saturday, as he was playing that day too. I stayed at home, made two trays of flapjacks, began the quiches and then caught two buses over to the village, to deliver the bread. After a frantic rush on Sunday morning to make egg mayonnaise, cook chicken, make buttercream icing and another quiche, we strapped a chiller bag to the bike, got the rest into a rucksack and the topbox and set off. The club kitchen is a luxurious palace compared to ours - look at all that space!

I had about 3 hours to prep, so I put my little radio on and set to work with some nice classical music in the background. Four loaves worth of sandwiches to be made up, four cakes to cut & one to decorate and various crisps, pies, nibbles etc to be plated up. Should have been fine.

As it happened, we had a bit of a batting collapse and a panicking Captain Andy ran in, to see how it was all doing. A frenzy of cutting & plating commenced, and I barely had time to take photos of my beloved cakes - flapjacks, lemon drizzle, fruit cake, cherry & almond loaf & an iced mocha - before they were whisked out to the tables.

Overall it went very well, though the quiches were superfluous. The chicken stuffing sandwiches were a hit, but I was disappointed that my cakes were barely touched. The oppo team was half made up of (literally) children, and it seems that 21st century kids eschew home baked goods in favour of more nibbly, snacky things. The older chaps dug in well though.

It was all over after 25 minutes and the big clear up began. As I was putting the last mugs away, feeling somewhat frazzled and a bit glum, my lovely friend Debs (she who lent me her house for my book launch) arrived, to give me a chilled bottle of cider she'd brought down especially. True friendship. And she ate cake - with relish. As the afternoon drew on, the tea remains were dug into by supporters who did appreciate an old-fashioned cake or two (one heroic old chap had 6 platefuls). And I don't know if word had got out about my disappointment at non-cake-eating youth, but some of them came and ate cake after the match and thanked me for tea. Which was nice.

After the match, we repaired, as normal, to the marvellous Queen's Head for customary after match chips and mayonnaise. And a beer. Duty done - for the moment. And a boxful of cake leftovers to keep Andy happy.

Brushes from Heaven!

So the other day, I was in our little village library, when I was offered some free paint brushes. As it happens. Apparently some local arty type didn't want them anymore and for reasons I can't quite fathom (perhaps intended for the library fete stall? Which sells only books?) had passed them on to the library. Who, knowing what I do, suggested that I might like them.

Did I ever! My heart at that point literally thumped a bit faster. Investigations found plenty of sables and some unused hog hairs - most of them were used, but I don't mind not having to wear a brush in (it's a bit like fountain pens, they are better when they are not minty fresh). More brushes than I could afford to buy in one go, anyway. And they even came with their own pot.

A more blatant sign from the Universe that I need to start painting again, after a ten month break, I cannot imagine.

Mr Lavender at the match

Frequently our British summers are capricious and it is as likely or not I'll pack a jumper or two to take with me to a cricket match. Not the other week - Sunday last was a bursting-out-all-over-heat-filled blue & green scorcher, almost perfection and at one of the nicest grounds I have had the pleasure to visit, Sandford St Martin.

Mr Lavender came too. He enjoys a bit of cricket, so long as the sun is out and there is a nice tea.

Despite the gorgeous surroundings, Mr Lavender, Andy's mother and myself decided to do a little exploring; too tempting a road to resist and there was a glorious poppy field on the dege of the ground.

The village itself is not directly in our patch - Sandford St Martin is a plush little place on the other side of Chipping Norton.

Prosperous looking even by Cotswold standards. We are in serious commuter belt here, handy for the cities of Oxford and London, making house prices *interesting* despite the quaint rural appearance.

Mr Lavender had a thigh high view from my combats pocket.

At last though the sun got too hot for me; Andy's mum is a lizard and can soak it up all day - I am made of frailer stuff. We were back just in time for tea and Andy smuggled a plate out for us. It was the best tea I've had in many a year, if not THE best. All home made and the softest, moistest, plumpest Victoria sponge imaginable, like a mother's welcoming lap, just begging to be dived into.

Somewhat over-full, we read the latest Jeanne D'Arc Living (which matched Mr Lavender's colours) and watched what turned into a very tight and exciting match.

But despite the best efforts of young Sam, Andy's top weapon, things did not go in our favour. Poor Sam was 99 not out and missed his century.

We lost, but it was a good, sporting match - jolly nice team and all that. And a tea to die for. Hopefully a fixture to be repeated.

Teeny Tiny Toadstools

A new line! Teeny Tiny Toadstools - they do exactly what they say on the box, as it were. Looking rather quaint against this gorgeous vintage fungi book which my friend the lovely Emma sent me last year as an unexpected birthday present.

They are teeny.

They are tiny. (Or at least, very small, but that doesn't trip off the tongue as easily).

And, they *only* take a day or so to make. So I can sell them for less than my larger toy creatures.

Two were snapped up at once. There was one left until this morning. Not any more.

I was really touched by the lovely comments left after my last pity-me blog post; what a sweet company of readers I have. I really am more thick skinned than I appear and was soon back on my feet, if a little tired. It's been a funny old year and I seem to have done a lot of organising for one thing or another. So Andy whisked me off for a reviving mini-break in gorgeous Shropshire, to look at old churches, stunning landscapes and to check out the house prices...

A mostly uneventful day

Well, that's another one to chalk up to experience. Saturday was my book signing day - the lovely people at Teddy Bears of Witney had given over a whole one of their windows for a display of my books.

And in the long back room where the child-safe bears live, I had the top of a glass display cabinet for the Puddletown toys, where they sat very happily. I also had a digi-frame set up, showing previous work.

One crucial thing I did learn as the day went on was that I should have put them on the two lowest shelves because of course, they are not at child height and the little mites had to crane their necks to see.

I set my table up at the back, with everything I needed, including work, as I didn't expect to be overwhelmed with crowds of adoring fans.

I was not disappointed. I was not overwhelmed by crowds of adoring fans.

Several people came in to see me over the six hours; stayed to chat about various things, admired the toys and books. I very much enjoyed meeting them all and one lady who has read my blog (*waves if she is reading this*). One person came in specifically because she had heard my radio interview and felt a connection, having had a difficult childhood herself - we exchanged details and if the day had been meant for anything, it was for that, so I'm glad.

The shop sold three books in total, which works out at half a book every hour and I sold enough pin badge/postcard combos to cover my bus fare and have a much needed pint. I felt more sorry for the shop, as they had gone to so much trouble on my behalf.

I'm tough enough to take it - the next signing is being planned in Oxford. Hopefully we may sell more than three books this time.

Radio waves

Just in case you've been on another planet - or not linked to me on Facebook or Twitter - I was interviewed on Radio Oxford last Friday, as part of the promotions for the Witney Book Festival (17th-19th June). I was in a state of complete trembliness and discovered what it meant to be dry mouthed with fear.

Not that I need have worried - Jo Thoenes, the afternoon presenter, was simply marvellous and soon had me at my ease - or at least, as much as I was ever going to be. The interview flew by as she asked me about my early life, my books and how I got to be where I am. To my relief I didn't fluff, stall or swear and more importantly I got all the plugs in for the Witney Book Festival and of course, my signing and exhibition at Teddy Bears of Witney, next Saturday, 10am-4pm.

My lovely friend Debs heroically ferried me about that afternoon and took photos. I had intended to take in some 'Puddletown Tales' characters to show Jo, but silly me, I left them in my studio at home. Thankfully Debs had her pig, Apricot, who came to be the star and I also brought in a work in progress - afterwards giving a flying demonstration to the nice programme producer who looked after us.

I have even been asked back, should I have another book to promote (*crosses fingers and prays to the Gods of publishing*). The interview - half an hour long in three parts - is available to listen to for four more days on the BBCiPlayer (so if you are coming to this after the 17th of June, I'm afraid you're too late!). To find me, fast forward to about 1.08 in the programme, after the wonderful Percy Sledge.

Interview clip here

After the interview we were all thrilled to find a message on the Radio Oxford Facebook page from Janet in America - which was lovely, and like having a little bit of her there with us.

When it rains at cricket...

...as it did last Sunday, one retreats discreetly to the clubhouse (should there be one) to get on with other things.

Planning a new line of little needle felt toadstools -

- while in a very grim but British way, the light but persistent rain does not stop the afternoon's match. Some even choose to watch it outside.

Tea, I am sad to report was disappointing in the extreme. I was smuggled a few little things, but there were no proper sandwiches and no cake! The tea pot was not refilled and the brew was insipid. Bizarrely, there were big plates of fruit, on such a cold, wet day. In abundance. And were largely left.

Andy is Sunday Captain at the moment and had a bit of a bowl. The arm is repairing though still painful - not that you would know from this;

Just a reminder, should anyone be interested, I will be on BBC Radio Oxford with 'Jo in the Afternoon' on Friday June 10th, from 2pm (UK time) talking about my books and myself. 2pm in the UK is five hours ahead of New York/East Coast time, so about 9 in the morning for my American friends. Do check this out for yourselves though on an online site, as I get a bit foggy about teccy things like this.

A sweet bouquet given to me yesterday by visitors to my studio