Well my dears I've pulled out all the stops for the W.I

As I always love to do my dears I have created something dramatic, something green, Something a little bit different.
Most importantly Something you will never have seen before!!!
Well....? What do you think? Pineapple, jelly roly-poly. A rather unusual little treat. I think Henny was just a little jealous with her Madelines' and tarts', (the faces she was pulling). But then again we can't all be blessed with culinary genius can we?

Ahh thats better!!!

Ahh hello dears here I am! Moony treated me to breakfast in bed this morning, did I say breakfast ? Ohh must be a Freudian slip, nothing Moony makes could be called a treat. No matter it was edible. As you can see she threw in the papers as an after thought (sad that she threw them with such determination at the scrambled egg but I brushed it of) I noticed that tomorrow is Halloween, umm must get Moony to sit in her deckchair on the lawn. She has to pay her way and she really is a cheap decoration, not that we get many trick or treaters. I don't know why, I make all the sweets and biscuits myself. But if it's Halloween tomorrow then its time to review the catalogues that I get through my door each day for those little surprise gifts. For Charlie and Henny I usually pick a gift from the past times catalogue, I find their Carolinian Christmas gifts particularly suitable though I confess that I never knew they had record racks in those days.... Maybe a Stilton spoon, or I think Charlie could look rather lovely in the Stuart brocade dressing-gown easy wash so that's a plus with Christmas dinner! The British museum sell Egyptian re-pos that have a smaller price tag than the originals but look nice on Moony's dressing-table. Where do I get Bramwells presents from? Well my dear up until now I've kept that a closely guarded secret (I didn't want to spoil the poor wee mites Christmas for him) When he was very young I used to be very influenced by what he had "written to Santa for..." such as patchwork pieces and crochet yarn, in recent years though I've been buying them from a lovely boutique in Purple Sprouting. They stock all sorts of pretty things, Lovely shepherdess lamps, musical boxes, 50's style box handbags. He adores them and I just love phoning them up, we can chat for hours. Marina their secretary is such a sweet girl as are Louis and Alphonse who came all the way from Switzerland they yodel so well that I suggested that they replace their shop bell with a tape of it. They went one better and turned the shop front into a cheerful little chalet, yodelling and all. Even the assistants are dressed as milk maids. Ohh one can be so very impressed on a visit there.
So as I crunched my toast (shocking I almost lost a tooth) and spooned in my tea (much to thick to drink) I flicked through their catalogue. Now be frank, tell me do you think that Bramwell would prefer a revolving Christmas tree lamp that projects Santa and his sleigh onto the walls and ceiling in lifelike fashion. Or would he prefer the complete Babycham bar set? I don't know, it does include glasses, deer shaped ice bucket and cocktail shaker and those weird plastic sticks that you stir cocktails with.
I shall muse upon that for a little while, after all more pressing, tomorrow I must tootle down to the W.I. Where we shall be discussing such large and unwieldy questions as what shall we do for the harvest festival, mayors fair and Christmas panto? Ohh what with this tea and all these questions I might just snuggle down and have a little longer in bed.... Do not tell Moony... But what with the weather... One does feel so awfully snug and drowsy in bed. Good Night my dears..... YYYY aaaa WWW Nnnn............

Cutting Sprout in autumn.

As you know from reading this my correspondence with you, we at Cutting Sprout have been preparing for our harvest festival. Always a cause of great celebration in this little corner of the world where on the fringes of Cutting Sprout as I have doubtless told you before sweet little farms abound. I of course look forward to the Brussels sprout harvest, Moony woke me up only last weekend to ask me when the Gin bottle harvest is. Bless the poor lass I didn't know how to explain it to her so I told her to nip down to the kitchen and make herself some Gin and Cornflakes whilst I got a few more winks of sleep. But once she was gone I lay there and had a little think, what might people with a less discerning pallet than myself might bring along for the Vicars lovely harvest table all decorations for the church being provided by the lovely Mrs Pine-Coffin. I'm afraid they were rather messed with by some other pretentious and bossy villagers whose names I will not divulge here....But don't they think they're the cats pyjamas? I contributed a little wreath of Brussels sprouts and cornflowers. That I suspect caused ohh...Just a little pang of jealousy in the aforementioned villager ( oh okay a certain Mrs Barnstorm and her cronies).... Well as the nights got darker we brushed of our nice warm outfits (unless of course our name was Bagshott-Smyth, more from her later) and little village children went around singing "All things bright and beautiful" and "We plough the fields and scatter" until Moony remarked that they shouldn't encourage illegal land ploughing. I asked her how the little poppets might be doing this (I was at the time sowing an ear of corn suit for one of the local nursery class so that he could pop up on stage and deliver his line "I 'v grown"). Well she said "If they were ploughing those fields legally then they wouldn't have to scatter would they?" Again I didn't feel qualified to explain so I sent her across the road for "a cup of something or other" Her eyes lit up and she scurried across the road with a tumbler. I breathed a sigh of relief and got back to my sewing machine which stuck on automatic had put an unusual pattern into a tomato costume and I had to unpick some of the worst bits. I'll say its one of those things where something gets scorched into it by the greenhouse. Moony didn't come back for a while, she'd been very much enjoying Henny and Charlie's drinks cupboard. I really hadn't meant a cup of whisky but that is what she brought back. Never Mind. We pottered along to the service on Sunday, me with a basket of garden produce and Moony with a tin of Jolly Green Giant sweetcorn which she insisted was harvest produce, just as she had the year before with a pack of sage and onion flavoured gravy. I try to say as little as possible on these occasions. It was charming, and my costumes turned out to be "rather sweet in a surreal way" as the vicar put it. And only a little misshapen. When we left the church we found little notes attached to the trees leading us to the woods, we looked at each other intrigued and then as one we followed the arrows.

Guess what we found yes Mrs Bagshott-Smyth and her women's group, a lot of very alcoholic punch and some wooden toad stools large enough to sit on. The punch helped I must say to enable us to better interpret Mrs Bagshott-Smyths "Dance of the Autumn sprites welcoming the Winter". I must say that they were graceful, bizarre and in the spirit of cutting sprout totally un-put off by the start of an early frost. But I snuck of home before anyone could ask my opinion. Call me a diplomat my dears, Henny did when she caught up with me. The two of us made our way home via every conker in the woods (Henny cant help herself picking them up and her pockets were bulging.) We talked about our families as we walked and we hummed and I imagine that the unknowing observer might have mistaken us for darling Pooh and Piglet.

The W.I and the Harvest Festival

Hello my dears, I have just slipped out of the kitchen where things have been popping, bubbling and squeaking. I can hear something exploding out of its saucepan as I write this little note but I don’t dare look. Ahh dear Moony has just gone off to battle it back in… “Have Courage dear, use the broom if need be, remember it’s only a suet pudding….Its done what?! Hang on there dear I’ll be with you in a moment, I’m sorry dear reader I must just go and help poor Moony extricate herself to think she only went in their for a cup of tea…….”

Well dears I’m back, goodness me! The reason for all this baking and I know you’ve all been wondering is the upcoming W.I and very important this... The Harvest Festival. We all love a good knee’s up at Cutting Sprout, even the vicars been rather excited. As for Mrs Bagshott-Smyth she’s been putting together a little show to represent the oneness of all seasons and the primal feelings of the harvest, whatever that may mean. One sees her and her friends trudging off to the woods in the most inappropriate garb for the season, little chiffon fairy dresses and Crepe paper crowns. I tell you dears it’s rather a sight, last night as I was passing her house on my way back from the town hall meeting I took a little peak through the windows and saw them constructing a rather large set of papier mache vegetables. Mrs Bagshott-Smyth was painting a rather oddly coloured carrot. I stopped looking and hurried on, further down the road I passed Ida and Mary’s cottage come faith healing practice. They were sitting on the lawn with a pot of herbal tea debating whether if we are all dead as some people think there can be messages from the other side and if there are which other side they might be coming from. Mary was putting the finishing touches to a corn dolly that looked rather as if it wanted finishing off. It had a few little friends who sat whimsically around the teapot not looking all that out of place on Ida’s tea table. They invited me to sit with them which I did, Moony was out at the Full Moon and Lunatic and Brammy had popped into town to see a play, Blithe Spirit as it happens. Ida poured me cup of tea from herbs that she had grown herself. I could tell, it tasted weak and a little strange but it was very relaxing I have to confess. Mary asked me vaguely if I had made anything for the Harvest festival and then informed me that the harvest moon was very conducive to messages from the other side, which ever one it turned out to be. I suddenly remembered that apart from some jam and cordial I had laid down in July I really hadn’t made anything special. I assured the girls that I would be back to see if they could contact Woger, they looked at each other very oddly. I’m sure that Mary was biting her lip rather hard, I wonder why? I excused myself and made a quick run down to the village stores, returning laden with the makings of the pies, puddings and conserves with which I planned to impress the W.I. Well that was the plan at the time but as you will have noticed since then my baking all seems to have gotten a little haywire. Still I should imagine it’s still going to be twice the pudding that Harlot Harley will have mustered up.
(I am including this picture of one of my little successes. Pickled Sprouts! You'll never belive how many iv'e managed to make and I dare say that they'll go down a treat!)

I can hear Moony wrestling the strange thing into a tin now……. “Well dear if you cant find one big enough wrap it in greaseproof paper and pop it in the larder….Ohh it wont fit, well wrap it up anyhow dear….You think you can get it into the cellar well be careful those stairs haven’t been looked at in a fair few years.... Ohh dear right ladies and gentlmen I really must go now. Toddle Pip!!"