best laid plans

As the rain rains incessantly, with only a bit of blustering for light relief, there's very little to do in these dog days of the year.  My mother, hardened by many years of Scottish winters, took up tapestry and it was only her untimely death that saved us all from slow suffocation by cushions.  I've experimented with knitting but there's a (very low) limit to the number of dropped stitches I can accommodate before my frustration at my lack of basic womanly skills becomes too much.  So, once the final episode of 'The Bridge' has finished I'm stuck with reading, plotting and eating.

The reading has been dealt with by Neal Ascherson's Stone Voices from the London Library which starts off with lyrical descriptions of Dalriada sparked by Kilmartin Glen.  I too placed my foot in the carving on Dunadd hill when I visited just, you know, in case.  When the sun hangs low you can see the marks that those before us have made in the shadows.  Just a week of winter burning threw up this collection of ironmongery.

The book does get rather bogged down in its central portion where Neal Ascherson personally saves civilisation but these are interesting times and he's seen a fair bit of them.  I've got heavier reading to come when the quasi white paper of Independence arrives next week.  I was down in Plymouth (but still registered to vote in Edinburgh) during the devolution referendum.  I was proud to be the only person who ordered the white paper from Plymouth's Waterstones and I felt the weight of history as I sat down to my postal vote.  This time I feel obligation rather than excitement but at least Mr Ascherson's warmed me up.

The plotting is confined to heady plans for the coming year: gabion reinforcements on the track! six varieties of potatoes! rearranging the fank kitchen! death to all deer! but hasn't got as practical as a funding application for Drimnin cinema.  I'm hoping the shame of taking over a year to out public licensing costs will spur me to finish it.  We now have Sam Firth in residence with her fab film Stay The Same and if I don't get on with it sharpish we'll end up with a film festival and no damn cinema.

 The eating is going well despite the fact that 'turnip' is cited as one of the highlights of February in my seasonal vegetable guide.  Although the damn deer have eaten all the cavolo nero planted last summer there's plenty of kale around and I'm not too proud to buy it.  My life has been improved enormously by the discovery that kale chips are not as worthy as they sound although this may have a bit to do with the amount of salt I use.

Kale Chips

kale leaves, chopped into bite size pieces and with ribs removed
olive oil
salt

* preheat the oven to 300F, 150C, gas mark 3 (it's more of a drying than a roasting thing)
* coat the kale with the oil (I end up having to use my hands for curly kale) using as little as possible
* lay the pieces on a baking sheet in one layer not touching each other - I have to do them in several batches and this is the only bit of hassle
* sprinkle generously with salt
* bake 'til they just start browning, about 10 minutes

Cold beer, kale chips and a decent fire makes even the dampest February tolerable.