Apple cake and pear blossom

 

Spring  this year is quite spectacular and my pear tree is heavily swagged with generous sprigs of creamy blossom. It is a fleeting delight, as the little petals are already being blown adrift by the strong westerly breeze and speckling the garden like fat snowflakes. 

I had a craving for a good, filling cake, the kind you need after 3pm, when lunch is a distant memory and dinner is a long way off. I had four ancient apples to use up. Wrinkled and soft (a reproachful reminder that I should have eaten them weeks ago), they were peeled, cored and sliced, loosely following this BBC Food recipe here for Dorset apple cake. The cores and peelings I put out in a quiet spot for the birds and already the blackbird has been visiting that corner. 

I tweaked the recipe a little; I accidentally added an extra ounce of flour as I am using a tablespoon to measure out ingredients  (my old Salter weighing scales have finally given up), I didn’t have soft brown sugar so I used castor,  and I layered the slices at the bottom of the dish, Tart Tatin style, because the pattern looked so pleasing. 

Then the batter was slopped all over it and more sugar sprinkled on top. 

It came out far larger than I anticipated; it is a rather plain looking and stodgy ‘fill you up’ cake, which is, after all, what I wanted. I have frozen half of it, as I cannot possibly eat that much cake this week and it won’t keep as well as a fruit cake. But it does go nicely with a cup of tea.

I took a slice out with me last Sunday, when I cycled out for a quick solo sketching trip at a nearby church. 

It’s taken me twelve years to feel like myself again after everything that’s happened, but this year I really think I’ve turned a corner and I’m enjoying doing the things I used to love again. 

Shropshire lanes and Shropshire hills

I’ve not been able to cycle for a few  years now, due to middle-aged knees that don’t work well; the last time I tried was about three years ago and I had to give up after half a mile as it hurt too much. Buying my own e-bike is not an option as they are way beyond my means, however thanks to a new local hire scheme, I have the use of a very swish and sturdy bike for a nominal fee per month which included servicing and most repairs. And it's made such a difference to my life. 

I have called him No.6, after a favourite TV series 'The Prisoner', because there are 100 of these identical bikes, and more to come, all branded and with trackers in so that usage can be charted. Something about it reminds me of The Village and the big white ball, 'Rover' which bounced and chased anyone who tried to escape. 'Be seeing you'.

My mental health, along with my other conditions, has not been good over the years, but being able to get out a couple of times a week (even if it does take me an hour to get ready and overcome my anxiety before setting off) has been amazing and transformative. Spring is slowly creeping in and the weather has been glorious, so this morning I set off for a big circular jaunt through the single track lanes that branch off the larger roads. (I realise that if you're reading this in the USA or another big country, my definition of a larger road is probably somewhat different to yours!)

The pedal assist has been a game changer and makes cycling so much easier on my knees. This is Shropshire Hill territory though and there are many ups and downs. Some of the inclines are just too steep for me, but I don't mind getting off to push, even though I was rather envious of the few 'man machines' who were powering up and past me like bionic super cyclists on non-electric machines - or 'acoustic bikes' as they are now known.

I managed nine miles today and even though my knees are very painful, it was worth it, for the freedom, fresh air and exercise. As well as the sense of achievement and improvement to my mental health.

Marjorie is having a well deserved retirement in the porch, because even if I may never ride her again, she will always be my special bike - the one that Andy bought me when my old Hercules bike was stolen and because he knew I'd never had my own new bike before. I just wish he was here to cycle with me and overtake me on the steep hills.