I picked a second lot of sloes on the way out of Drumbuidhe last week (the first lot was picked after cycling for an hour to post a job application and went into sloe jelly along with the slightly grotty fallen apples) for one of the easiest recipes known to woman: put sloes in bottle, add sugar, add gin.
After too much travelling around (Drumbuidhe / Glasgow / Durham / London / Oxford) I was suffering from run-down stores and too many fancy sandwiches so today was also a day for basic breadmaking. When people find out I make my own bread they often ask if I have a breadmaker. C bought one for Drumbuidhe but it just seems way too complicated for me: the wee kneading thing keeps getting thrown out into the compost heap; it only seems to work with expensive pre-mixed bread packets; it's another electrical thing in a house with erratic electricity and it takes an age. The last time C used it we had eight people coming for lunch and quite limited food so the bread was really needed. The display showed the bread as being ready at just after noon but C had a rush of blood to the head, opened the machine up at eleven, declared it a failure and transferred the whole lot to the oven. The loaf ended up a bit misshapen but cooked in the end but it's a disturbing pattern of C misinterpreting stuff when he's under a bit of stress. I've just returned a new £50 heating programmer after the existing one was deemed to be "broken" but now seems to be unbroken. There's also the £1000 spent on a visit from phone engineers to "fix" the length of time the phone rings before it goes to voicemail (yes, it's set by the network rather than the physical phone). Since I'm now sceptical about any electrical goods reported broken I don't, personally, buy anything that can't be returned but it does get hard to stay calm as I watch C scattering his funds to the winds.
I've had a week in Glasgow (see reference to travel above) and C was hoping to have his cronies up to play with the wind turbine. This doesn't seem to have worked but, when I travel up on Monday, I'll have no excuse to delay talking to C about transferring his share of Drumbuidhe over to me. We've talked about this before and it's an excellent idea but, unfortunately mentioning it will bring up the topic of C disinheriting me. Since this was a shitty and stupid thing for him to do he gets very, very defensive about it. When C's up at Drumbuidhe with just me he's quite calm but the addition of extra stress (like a wind turbine that doesn't work) and grievances egged on by cronies can be enough to trigger violence. So, I've been trying to get the timing right to talk about Drumbuidhe's ownership: just before C heads down to Glasgow and with minimal possibility of turbine-crony-stress.
A big part of me thinks that walking away from Drumbuidhe would be great (cheaper, easier and with much less shouting) but being the daughter of mad parents is a lifetime comitment even if I didn't get much choice about it.
Anyway this week in Glasgow was supposed to involve a concerted effort at getting a job. It hasn't. I do at least have a nice couple of loaves, the dead easy method for which is:
12oz strong white flour
12oz strong wholemeal flour
2 tsp salt
1 packet fast-acting yeast
15 fl oz warm water
Mix all ingredients together (I use a large measuring jug to limit the washing up required since bread dough does get very messy), knead, divide into two rough loaf shapes, diagonally slash and place into two oiled loaf tins, leave the loaf tins in the oven (switched off and door closed) for a couple of hours or overnight, when the loaves have roughly doubled in size (or when you wake up) switch on the oven to 220C / gas 7 for 45 minutes (tip one of the loaves out of the tin and tap the bottom, if it sounds hollow the loaves are done, if not return them to the oven for another 15 minutes or so). Remove from the tins to cool.
Cunning bakers will notice that there's none of that proving stuff here. Modern dried yeasts mix very easily with the flour so I don't think a second kneading is necessary but the longer overnight rising does give a more complex taste.
