Scene of Crime

Look what I found at lunchtime, fallen from the Christmas tree like a ripe fruit. A sad little ribbon remained tied to the branch from which he fell. We weren't supposed to eat them until New Year's Day, when we undress the tree and put him outside for another year. There were a couple of crumbs, which I *tidied* away.

Later, there were a few more crumbs, but no sign of a body.

EDIT - I wish I could claim to have made our gingerbread people, but they are out of my league - all thanks to my talented baking friends generosity.

Turning pennies into cheese

Despite needing an initial defrosting, our little pot tree looked very pretty when he was dressed. He comes in every Christmas Eve and goes back outside on January the 1st. We like to keep our quiet celebrations short and special.

I bought him fourteen years ago, when he was a scruffy 10 inch urchin, and against the odds, he's thrived. Now he has finally burst his pot in a bid for freedom.

Here he is on Christmas morning, being looked after by Oscar, my latest needle felt piece.

This year he is proudly displaying some beautiful gingerbread people, made by an old friend with whom we have recently re-made contact. Each one is delightfully hand painted and the room smells sweetly of spicy goodness.

The three of us trained together to be illustrators way back in the early 1990's. Now she makes wonderfully decorated cakes and cookies, I make felt toys and Andy wears his fingers to the bone as a supermarket manager supporting us. Which just goes to show how life takes unexpected turns.

Every week before Christmas, I count the pennies in my penny pot. Usually it is spent on nice cheese and this year it was spent on very select cheese indeed. One piece, to be precise. Although we only have two shops in the village, one of them is an excellent deli, which specialises in local cheeses. There were only two of these 'Cerney Pyramids' left - unpasteurised goat's cheeses covered with ash and seasalt, from the village of North Cerney, just over the border in Gloucestershire. Being a premium product, they are not cheap. But the kind shopowner generously gave me a little discount as he knows that I am a hardcore gourmet cheese lover with very shallow pockets. Now it waits, like the rest of the world, for New Year's Eve, when it will be eaten with reverence.

Baking frenzy

Oh fix my hair, throw me a pinny and move me to Stepford. It's been baking bliss at the Hovel, as my creative wotsit lies fallow for a bit. Principally of the bread variety, though I did chance upon these plump little babies, while cycling out for 'The Times'...I do love a good honesty box and feel blessed that such things can still exist in our bit of the world.

I've persevered with the bread making - the key is to start first thing in the morning, then all you have to do is pop back every so often for the next stage. Although I'm using dried easybake yeast at the moment, I have discovered that it works better if I make an old-fashioned 'sponge' first; mixing the yeast with warm sugary water and a handful of the flour. In no time at all there is a heaving, bubbling mix which rises beautifully when made up into a dough with a slug of olive oil and a pinch of salt.

A quick knead, left for however long it takes to plump up in our cool kitchen cell, and then knocked back, massaged a little more, shaped and left again. I'm still battling with getting the right balance between having a wetter mix (I was making it too dry before) and having a dough which doesn't spread so much. This is why I haven't succumbed to a bread machine - I enjoy the process so much.

Oy - how did those gingerbread men sneak in?