Midsummer

It's the longest day of the year which means I'm still getting used to going to sleep in the light and, when I wake in the morning, wondering idly whether it's 5am or 10am. I'm up at Drumbuidhe and struggling (as I have been these past 6 months) to get some constructive research work done. I've got plans of course (reading to do, a literature review paper to write, contacts to follow up on, conferences to investigate) but the lushness of summer always takes me aback. The garden is growing like topsy even if I did manage to get the potatoes mixed up. Alas the pests are also growing and the gooseberry bushes are being stripped bare by sawfly.  I picked off all the caterpillars and pupae I could see and then stripped the berries themselves (gooseberry jelly and basil & gooseberry sorbet) before I spray them with bug killer to try and make some dent in next year's sawfly population. I'm also going to give the potatoes a blast of bordeaux mixture which I found in the shed in the hope that we can stave off blight this year. Some fabulous bits of sunshine had dried the garden out so, although the current rain is a bit grey for midsummer's day, it's welcome nonetheless.

While I fail to get on with my research, N is up in the garden chopping down hedges with gay abandon. With both parents gone, I can now go about drastic remodelling of the garden with gay abandon and the much-hated leylandii hedge is the first bit to go. This may be my version of Campbell's continual urge to drill holes in things but, gosh, the garden looks better for it.

Of course cooking is my standard displacement activity and I'm already planning tonight's dinner (smoked mackerel, new potatoes and cavolo nero) followed by trfile using up the last wee bit of a fabulous cake that I made on Sunday.  The recipe is from Carol Kohll via the Guardian's recipe swap and it's moist light and tender as well as beautifully aromatic.  I made some minor changes because of stuff we had to hand (coffee grinder and olive oil).  We had it for pudding with cardamon-scented hot chocolate.



Cardamon Cake

3 eggs
300g sugar
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp seeds from cardamon pods
1/2 tsp cinammon
zest of one orange
zest of 1/2 lemon
350g self-raising flour
180ml olive oil
1tsp vanilla extract
180ml orange juice

* put salt, spices, rind and some of the sugar into a coffee grinder and grind till fine
* whisk remaining sugar with eggs for about 8 minutes
* add everything together and mix til smooth(ish)
* pour into large (lined) cake tin
* bake at gas mark 4 for 45 minutes

The recipe warned that the cake doesn't keep very well (hence the trifle) but that's unlikely to be a problem.

Theatrical Landlady

I seem to have drifted into a landlady-life without any firm planning on my part. There is a whiff of fate about it since caring duties (looking after J from 2005 to 2007 then C from circa 2010 to 2016) have a strong portion of old-fashioned domestic labour underpinning the new 21st century emotional labour. I can now change  bed in about 1 minute and whip up a decent hollandaise in about 5. Both decent landlady skills.

My lovely lodger G is back in residence in Glasgow and is far too polite to comment on the mild chaos in my flat as I struggle to get my kitchen back together. Up in Drumbuidhe I've put the fank on airbnb and had the first ever guests. They were charming although the £100 they paid and the lovely review they wrote did help to confirm their charm. I spent £115 on bed linen for their visit so I haven't hit on a cunning plan for untold riches but, still, it should help offset the running costs.

Of course I've still got multiple personas going on so last week was the Scottish School of Graduate Social Science Summer School (a fair mouthful even before I tried discussing the neoliberal hegemony over  glass of rose). Some great workshops but also a chance meeting with a Newcastle researcher who had a recently installed off-grid electrical system. He uses a propane generator which opened my eyes to the fact that there is an alternative to the diesel-hungry, over-sized, high-maintenance lister petter that we currently have. The genny has both a recurring overspeed fault and an inappropriate battery. I've been dithering about getting a maintenance visit since it's a minimum £500 per visit. Since a propane generator (silent! sits outside in its own box! easily stored fuel!) can be got for about £2000 it looks like that could be big step towards a new Drumbuidhe grid.

One of my other burgeoning personas is film festival curator following the success of the first Drimnin Sheep Film Festival. We demonstrated that extensive social media coverage doesn't make a blind bit of difference to attendance on the west coast after blanket coverage on radio five's film review programme failed to nudge attendance for 'Rams' beyond our standard six. I also proved that gorse flower syrup isn't really worth the effort but makes a pleasant enough cocktail with gin.

Gorse Flower Syrup

250g flowers
250g sugar
500ml water
Juice & rind of 1 lime & 1 orange

Boil the water and sugar together, pour over the flowers, juice and rind and leave to infuse overnight. In the morning, strain and bring, briefly, to the boil again. Bottle - adding a camden tablet if you want to store it unrefrigerated.

I made up cocktails with gin + syrup + lemon juice, lengthened with soda water and enjoyed over ice. They were very nice but more citrus than gorse.