Smelly Old Books

These are the bookshelves in my craft room.  You can clearly see that I resisted the temptation to tidy them before I took the photograph.

There are similar bookshelves scattered throughout the house, some are considerably tidier than these, for these are my cookery books, my best loved books, frequently browsed and greatly enjoyed.    Every now and then my inner librarian takes over and sort them out.   They soon revert to a more comfortable relaxed  condition.

I used to attend book auctions and that is where I first came across a book which set me off in collecting old cookery books.   It is handwritten and took me quite a while to decipher.    That book remains one of my favourites.   It was written by a vicar's cook and is simply a hardback exercise book which was discarded by one of the vicar's daughters, back in the mid 1850's, taken over by Cook and filled from cover to cover. 

There are family recipes, recipes from friends, several methods for dealing with enormous hams with various methods for curing them.  Best of all, there are lists of the quantities of food which were used to prepare Easter and Christmas parties for the village school, as well as lists of the pickles, jams and preserves in the pantry.   Wonderful stuff!

However, this is a post about books, not just cookery books.

I suffer from one great disadvantage when it comes to books.   Unlike many other people I intensely dislike the smell of them.   I don't mind worn and grubby books, but anything more than just a whiff of old book smell really puts me off.

These days I tend to buy secondhand books from abebooks, amazon, or ebay.   I love trawling around, tracking down an obscure title, or tripping across a book which is on my wish list.   Generally I prefer to buy worn and well used old volumes, not only are they less expensive but they also have more character.  

No matter whether the books have been gently used or have been used and splashed, they all have to pass the sniff test before I can read them.

Those which fail have to be put to one side; sometimes all that is required is that they spend a few days in a warm dry room.   Other books have a stronger smell and that calls for stronger action.   A dish of non-scented cat litter is placed into a box, along with the offending book, and then they are left for a week or two.   The cat litter absorbs the smell, but do take care not to use a scented litter because then you end up with a scented book and that is possibly worse than the original.      A similar result can be obtained by using a dish of bicarbonate of soda and a box.

If any smell does still linger after the treatment, I leave the book face up and open to finish airing off.    

As I type this I can imagine some people will be thinking what a fuss about nothing.   Indeed, for some people, the smell of an old book is half the pleasure.

My sensitive nose has been the bane of my life since childhood, it often got me into trouble.   Unfairly, in my opinion.   I only spoke the truth!

What about you?  Do you like the smell of old books?

Habit, Confusion & Old Books

On a couple of occasions just recently I have found myself going to search a document for a particular word or phrase by using Ctrl+f, only to realise that I am not on the computer but reading through an old book...   

About an hour and a half ago the power went off, we were plunged into darkness, apart from a small string of battery operated fairly lights and the log burner.     I discovered that my habit of walking through the house in the darkness of the night stood me in good stead, I was able to make my way through to the Boot Room and the pantry to gather up the battery lamp, candles, etc.   

A quick scout around outside showed me that the rest of the village was also without electricity.    The power company assured me that they were aware of the power cut and engineers were on the way.   So we settled down to watch the flames flickering, listened to some old 50's/60's music and enjoyed the experience.   

The longest night made extra dark, for a while.   It makes you realise how much we depend upon electricity, how much of a habit it has become for the hand to reach for a light switch, or to flick the kettle on.

Baking day tomorrow so I hope we don't have any more outages.   

Winter Reading...

The weather has been cold, crisp, frosty and very beautiful.   A nice change from never-ending rain and flooded fields.

I should have taken advantage of the fine weather to get outside and rake the leaves from the lawns, or to continue cutting back some of the shrubbery.    Instead I have taken extra-long walks with Toby, visiting some of the places which were inaccessible due to the poor drainage of the clay soil around here.

We have walked miles through the fields, skirted ancient woodland, and I have pondered about the countless feet which have walked these pathways since the days of yore - the people, their daily lives, clothing, footwear. 

I get lost in my thoughts but, luckily, one part of my brain keeps a look out for wildlife and things of interest.

On one occasion I saw an enormous flights of geese making their raucous way to somewhere else, a common enough sight around here, but what made this particular group special was that they had a flock of much smaller birds flying with them, inside the 'V' formation.  A sight I have never seen before.  They looked sparrow-sized, but could have been a little larger.   I wondered whether they were 'hitching a lift' taking advantage of the aerodynamics provided by the motion of the much bigger birds.

Home again, home again.  Rub-a-dub-dub-dub/paddy-paws/paddy paws.    Good boy Toby.  Sit!  Have a biscuit...
Good boy.
All gone.
Off you go!

Time for a cup of tea and a quick read.

None of that Marie Kwondo (or whatever she calls herself)  nonsense around here. 

The old piano stool makes a handy table/repository for my current books/research material.    I should work at my desk, down the other end of the house, but Toby and the cats are not allowed down there and they hate being left alone when I am in the house.

Duty calls, I need to get on with housework and also with writing a few more Christmas cards, but all that can wait for half an hour.

Old recipe books and books about the history of food await.

In many ways I would rather dig and delve into the books than cook.   However, I cannot deny that I like trying out new (to me) recipes from these old volumes.       At the moment I am particularly interested in old Lincolnshire food, though one would really need to be a meat-eater to do full justice to all the local dishes, many of them require pork, for country folk depended on the pig to keep them fed. 

Luckily I have found a very traditional dish which has so many variations and traditions associated with it that it will keep me happily occupied until Christmas.   No meat required.   Thank goodness.

More in a day or two.

Feel free to ignore my ramblings, I know it won't be of interest to many, but the blog will help me to keep a note of my various attempts.

Enjoy the week. 
Keep warm, be safe, be happy.
x




 

Books & the Countryside

Even on a cold dank and dismal November day I still enjoy my morning walks with my dog, Toby.  Almost every morning, whether there be rain or sunshine, sees us walking through the farmland which surrounds Parsonage Cottage and the surrounding three villages.    It is a special time and certainly outranks even that first cup of coffee of the day - and I really do enjoy my coffee!

We rarely see a soul, and that is good.

Down the lane, then either under or over the disused railway line, according to how much rain has fallen(!) past the beautiful old watermill - if the lane is not under a foot of water - then up the hill and past the old manor house and into the fields.

I enjoy the sense of history, the glimpses of the past, which it is easy to sense along the way.  The walk through the fields is the most exhilarating part.   Big open fields with tiny cottages and barns dotted around in the far distance.    Space to breathe, time to think.   To let my thoughts roam and ramble.

Fresh clean air, sunshine if we are lucky.   It makes my heart sing with pleasure.   Sounds silly, but it is true.    We often catch sight of hare, deer, occasionally a fox, sometimes an owl out for a last snack before bedtime.     I have walked these fields for almost a decade and a half so I know them pretty well, I have discovered those places where the sweet violets hide, the little patch of wild strawberries, and where you are always sure to find some giant puffballs.   I have learnt which fields always flood after heavy rain, followed the ancient footpaths through fields and tried to imagine all the people who walked along them through the centuries.

The small local church perched up on a hill, where the bank next to the little lane is eroding because rabbits have dug around in it for so many centuries.   Sometimes I find chunks of very old bone sliding down towards the road.    I gather them up, go back into the old churchyard and then drop them down an old rabbit hole - away from the bank, but in roughly the same area - saying a prayer for whoever they belonged to as I do so.    I have sent a message to the new young vicar to see whether he would prefer to do the biz himself.

We cut through farmyards and past an old gatehouse follow the track along by the medieval barn, then walk along one side or another of the river, unless the ground is really saturated, in which case we take the farm track because that way isn't quite so squelchy.

Every walk has something magical and beautiful about it, even on the wet days.

But, hey, enough about the walks.   What about the books?

I love books, you all know that by now.

I normally have three or four books on the go at the same time.    Parsonage Cottage is a long, single storied house, so I have a book for snatched moments when I have time to read, in the conservatory, and another one down at the very far end of the house, in the bedroom.   There is always a paperback book left next to the bathtub, because I do prefer a bath to the shower - can't read in the shower!!  Then my craft room normally has a stack of books left on the desk, according to whatever I am researching at the time - could be old recipes, local history, country churches, etc.   Books, glorious books.

Sue, over on My Quiet Life in Suffolk has been conducting an experiment in local food, trying to eat as locally, and with as few air miles, as possible.

This got me thinking about all the local food producers around here - and there are lots - which then led me to thinking about my Lincolnshire recipe book collection.    So of course I had to pull them off the shelves to have a browse. 

Ten or fifteen years ago I would have laughed at the very idea of collecting old cookery books, then I picked up my first old handwritten one, at a country auction.    That was the catalyst that set me off - first of all looking out for other handwritten ones, then when they became far too expensive for me to justify, I began watching for Lincolnshire recipe books.   The old and well used ones are the best, especially if they have notes and indicators of whether or not a recipe was enjoyed.

Right, that is me all talked out. 

I need to go and read a book.

I hope your weekend has been a good one, and that the coming week is everything you could wish for.

ps  These are some of the things which the grandchildren and I made for the craft fair - fire lighters, bird feeders, twiggy stars, hyacinth bulbs, beeswax candles, etc.   There were very few things left at the end, so I think they should be chuffed with themselves.     

Magpies, Wombles, and Books, Books, Books

This motley collection of books are a few of the ones I have plucked from my bookshelves this week.    Most have cost just a few pence, from charity shops, book sales, etc. 

The weather lore book on the right hand side is the youngest of them, it was published in 1981 and is packed with 1900 sayings from the English countryside.    Interestingly, they have also been 'tested' and star rated as to their truth!

Following on from Sue's post about Magpies I thought it would be fun to add these sayings:

For anglers in spring it is
always unlucky to see single
magpies; but two may always be 
regarded as a favourable omen.
And the reason for this is, that in cold
and stormy weathr one magpie
alone leaves the nest in search
of food, while the other one
remains sitting with the eggs or
young ones; but when two go out
together, it is only when the 
weather is mild and warm, and
favourable for fishing.

Star rating: *


Magpies flying three or four
together and uttering harsh cries
predict windy weather.

Star rating: *



Given the particularly mild and sunny days we have enjoyed this week, the following saying is a bit worrying - especially as it is given a star rating of ****.


If there's spring in winter, and
winter in spring
The year won't be good for anything.


February is fast running away with us, but tomorrow, 24th February, is St Matthias' Day, apparently he is the patron saint of alcoholics.

Sayings for his day:                               

If it freezes on Saint Matthias' Day,
it will freeze for a month together.   

Star rating: *



Saint Matthias breaks the ice;        *
If he finds none, he will make it.    **


Saint Matthie
Sends sap up into the trees.


The Hand to Mouth book is an old Women's Institute cookery book,  originally published in 1933, my copy dates from 1944. 

The Lotions and Potions book dates from the 1960's, another Women's Institute one.    It is fascinating, full of very old recipes for creams, unguents, medicines and cures, many dating from centuries ago.

Today has been spent bread making, visiting family, and doing a little Wombling.


I decided I could no longer ignore the discarded aluminium cans, coffee cups, bottles, sweetie wrappers, chocolate wrappers, plastic bags, dog dropping bags (full), old lottery tickets, and general detritus, which was strewn along the lane.


I hitched up Toby, grabbed a rubbish bag, my litter picking stick, and set to work.     I cleared both sides of approx 500m of lane and ended up with a large bin bag full of trash.   

The vodka drinker seems to have stopped drinking though, or perhaps they have moved, for there wasn't a single alcohol bottle, whereas previously there would have been at least half a dozen, sometimes more.

A short time later, I went back up the lane to buy some eggs from one of our neighbours.   On the way home I had to pick up another can which someone had discarded since I cleared the verges.

Hey ho!

Magic Pain Killers and Peg Dolls

Even if I were able to obtain laudanum these days I definitely wouldn't know how much was in a drachm, however, thanks to M L Riley, and her little black book of handwritten kitchen notes and recipes from 1892, I now know that a drachm is 2 salt spoons.   It would be even more handy if I possessed a salt spoon.


Magic Pain Killer

Spirit of harshorn, 1oz
Olive Oil, 1 1/2oz
Cayenne Pepper, 2 drachms
Laudanum, 2 drachms
1 tbsp salt
2 tbsp brandy

Shake well in a bottle, rub the affected part with it.   It removes pains and swellings.   It is a magic remedy...allegedly.    Recipe taken from Annie's Edwardian Cookery Book.


Drawing Ointment
(for festering wounds)
Soft brown sugar
Household Soap

Mix one ounces of soft brown sugar with one ounce of plain household soap which has been softened by being cut into shavings and mixed with a teaspoonful of warm water.  Work well together so that you have an ointment consistency.  Spread on a piece of lint or clean cloth and bandage on to the wound.     from Hebridean Cookbook by Lillian Beckwith

I am thankful that I don't need either of those at the moment, as long as I remember to get up and move about every now and then, and keep doing the back exercises, a nuisance, but they do work.

I have moved on (for the time being) to making some peg dolls for the bazaar.  People request these year after year, I suppose they make useful little 'extra' gifts.   Each doll is unique, no two are dressed the same because I enjoy making them that way, dressing some for a day out, others for a day in.  They are my 'everyday' angels.

These three peg dolls are the first in a new range.   Madness!   They each have a hand sewn skirt/underskirts, plus tiny hand knitted jumper, some have hats/bags/mittens, according to my whim.

I still have some of my mother's old knitting needles and a few balls of wool.   This style of dressing the pegs came about by my need to do something fresh to relieve the boredom and goes to show, that despite the fact that I have never taken to knitting, all those years of attempting it, learning the basics and how to do some of the fancier stitches for Aran patterns, shapings, etc, but mostly just from 40 years of watching my mother constantly knit, have actually paid off.

I just made up the patterns for their jumpers and so on.   It wasn't exactly rocket science, but I was quite chuffed with the result.     My mother would be thrilled to think that she had managed to teach me this much!

These little snowmen will have hooks driven into their heads, they are tree ornaments, both sides are painted up as snowmen.     Not my original idea, I saw it somewhere else, unfortunately I can't remember where, so I can't credit them.   They are very cute, fun to do, though I could wish for a steadier hand - time creeps up on us in the most peculiar ways.


These, along with my fancy angels, all sequins and lace, are my offerings so far.    I have some other ideas simmering, so watch this space.

My self-allotted task today will be to paint some pegs to resemble 'Nutcracker' - no doubt the wobbly hand will show up, I can only hope that this adds to the charm.  😀

As you can tell, not much housework is getting done these days.      A quick dash around with the hoover and, occasionally, a duster, plump up the cushions, and that is about it.     My creative head is full of ideas but I keep getting interrupted to make meals, mow lawns and help cut back the wild growth from summer.   

All this sewing/knitting/painting time is allowing my mind to roam free and I have had lots of ideas for incredibly interesting posts - of course none of them will make it to the blog because I haven't got the time.   

On being Frugal

"The house books, those records of departed sirloins, cakes of soap and pounds of butter, can scarcely be regarded as emotional reading.    Yet I doubt if more tears have been shed over the thrilling adventures of a lovely and luckless heroine than over the chronicles of the butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker.    And why?

Simply because the average woman will not realise that housekeeping, like any other profession, must be learnt, and, when learnt, practised methodically.    If the income is large, extravagance in the catering department, though for many reasons deplorable, is scarcely felt; but in the ordinary middle and upper middle-class home it is of the utmost moment that the household expenditure should be kept to a moderate figure; otherwise money which should be spent on recreation, and on the little luxuries which make life worth living, is swallowed by the insatiable maw of 'the house.'

The woman who is at the head of a household, and who knows that she is incompetent to manage it, should ask herself this question, Am I justified in squandering money which can be ill spared?   A negative will surely be the answer.

The course is then plain; she should at once set herself to learn to rule her household judiciously and expend her housekeeping allowance to the best advantage.    To some women the process will at first be irksome, but surely when an orderly home, well-cooked, neatly-served meals, and moderate bills are the reward, they will feel that the game has been worth the candle.

Roughly speaking, for a family of six or more persons, an average of £1 per head a week allows of luxurious living, 15s per head for good living, 10s for nicer catering of a simple description, and 8s 6d per head for a sufficiency of wholesome food.

To cater satisfactorily at an expenditure of 15s or £1 a head per week does not require any great care.   To cater for 10s per head necessitates extremely good management.

It is only fair to warn the housewife who desires to keep her bills to this sum, that she must not expect to perform impossibilities.   If the cook is incorrigibly careless and wasteful; if the mistress is ignorant, if the master is exacting, not to say greedy; if a freshly cooked joint is expected every day, if the family contains delicate children or invalids, if meat and other provisions cannot be procured at reasonable prices - then it will be impossible to carry out the menus on an average of less than 11s or 12s per head a week.

Following my original article (1898)  I received a brief but eloquent epistle:

"Dear Mrs Peel, - I wish you wouldn't write such nonsense.   My husband will now be more tiresome than ever about the bills."

I have been repeatedly asked for a menu and recipe book especially compiled for the mistress who must keep her bills to the 10s a head limit, and who must employ a single-handed plain cook of average ability..."


This is an extract from an 1899 book written by Mrs C S Peel, giving her version of frugality.

A few of her tips:

It pays to buy potatoes, apples, tea, sugar, flour, bacon, tapioca, rice, soap, etc in large quantities.   Biscuits, pickles, jams, preserved fruits, and in fact, almost all stores of a kind which will keep are cheaper when bought in large-sized boxes or jars than in small.   All jars and tins should be returned as they are charged for at the rate of 1/8d to 3d, and in the case of large tins and jars 6d and 1s apiece.

The careful housewife should, if she cannot pay a personal visit to the fishmonger and greengrocer, insist upon a daily price list being sent, otherise it is probably that the most expensive fish or vegetable will be chosen.

When ordering fish for filleting it is an economy to buy the whole fish and have it filleted at  home.  The bones and trimmings may then be used for a fish stock, or possibly there may be sufficient trimmings left wherewith to make a little savoury or breakfast dish.

The inexperienced housewife often adds to her butcher's bill, but not to the variety of her menus, through not knowing what to order.  She needs a meat course for late dinner, so she orders one lb of mutton cutlets.  the order should have been for a neck of mutton, the best end to be used for cutlets, the next piece for a luncheon dish such as hot-pot, haricot or Irish stew, and the scrag end for mutton broth...etc, etc.

The avoidance of waste is a matter which lies to a great extent in the hands of the cook.   The mistress may order with the greatest care, but if the cook does not know how to economise and will not learn, until she leaves and a better manager takes her place the mistress will know no peace.

Bread, potatoes, stock material, and frying fat are materials which are wasted in almost incredible quantities in many kitchens.   Toast trimmings, the end of the loaf from which bread and butter has been cut, the crusts of the crumb which has been used for bread sauce, the pieces left after croutons have been stamped go into the pig tub or ash bin and in consequence the baker's book is a third higher than it should be.

All crusts should be baked in the oven, pounded and stored in a tin ready for use.  Stale slices of bread may be made into croutons for soup or savouries, or made into a pudding.   Not a scrap should be thrown away."

There follows a section of menu plans for the household and kitchen staff, with further chapters giving more hints and tips on how this miracle may be wrought, plus recipes.

I wonder what frugal delights Mrs Peel would have come up with these days, I have no doubt that she would have thoroughly enjoyed the frugal challenges.