...called "The Gentle Art of Domesticity," by Jane Brocket, an English writer. I've picked this up a few times at the bookstore, so I was glad to see it at the library, where I can take it home, read it and decide whether I want to buy it. Her photographs are beautiful and she knits some things here and there (including some great tea cozies, but, no patterns, Jane? Just one?)
I've been enjoying the book. She is a fan of Kaffe Fassett quilts, as am I. I like his quilts better than his knitting patterns, to be honest.
She also gave a recipe for Battenberg cake, which figured in the plot of a Jasper Fforde novel I like quite a bit, and each time I came up against this, I wondered what kind of a cake it is. Now I know (sponge, in a checkerboard pattern, with apricot jam and marzipan on the outside).
Her baking recipes often include golden syrup, which is useful to me, because Edward gave me a tin of it as a Christmas present (apparently, there's a tin of treacle in his pantry with my name on it too) and I've been scrambling to figure out how to use this stuff. Edward informs me that you can use golden syrup to make treacle tart and that he will email his mom for his grandmother's recipe, the ne plus ultra of treacle tarts, apparently.
(Side note: Fun party game. Name foods that do not contain the ingredient implied by the title. Treacle tart, for example, does not contain treacle. Sweetbreads are neither sweet nor bread. Rocky Mountain oysters are not oysters ... you get the drift.)
Back to the golden syrup. I plan to test her book out by making flapjacks this afternoon. Which are not pancakes. They are a chewy oat bar, held together in part by golden syrup. (Add them to the list of foods that are not what the name implies.)
Anyway. I've been thinking about domestic life a bit since reading her book, as that is what mine has boiled down to. I call it "being a prisoner on my own area rug." The warden is cute and all, but Jamie has made my world smaller than it used to be. Some days, I'm fine with that, and other days, it rankles. I can't exactly spend my time embroidering pillowcases and baking tea breads, either, as Jamie wants to get in everything I'm doing and see what it's all about. So I've been knitting more garter stitch than I used to and have to save the more technical cabled patterns, or in fact, anything requiring me to refer to a pattern - Jamie likes to eat paper - for when he is asleep.
Where is this going? Not sure yet. But I'm still not embroidering.