Friday, 31 March 2017

Walking On Water

The Lade Braes in St Andrews has a long, long history - as long as the town itself, I suspect. ‘Lade' means a body of water artificially channelled from an established river to a waterway that supports a mill, and the Lade Braes follows the mill lade that came off the Kinness Burn, which originally flowed to the priory at the edge of the sea. Braes are merely steep banks, or hillsides, running alongside a river, or coast.

This lade was constructed to take water from the Kinness Burn to the priory grounds, which were built on higher ground than the burn which burbled away further to the south. Although the St Andrews Cathedral Priory was established in 1140, there appears to be evidence of a mill on the site beforehand, so it may be that the lade is indeed older than the town!  

The Priory Lade itself now runs through pipes directly underneath the Lade Braes Walk, which runs next to the Kinness Burn, and then splits up from the burn nearer the shore - the burn burbling its way to the harbour then out to sea, the Lade diverting further north through the Priory grounds.

A springtime walk along the Braes is always a pleasure; daffodils nodding their heads as you walk by, blossom and bracken filling the air with perfume, trees beginning to bud.

You can, of course, start the walk at the back of Madras College, but apart from a couple of pretty gardens along the route, there's not much to see, so I tend to start my walk at Cockshaugh Park - ground that was part of new landscaping work in the late 19th Century.


Just round the bend from the park you'll see a rather well-kept lawn with ponds across the burn complete with an interesting-looking structure or two, which is just a small part of the St Andrews Botanic Garden, and absolutely worth a visit should you venture to the East Neuk of Fife!


And then there are trees; 

trees that give very decorative shade,


trees that reach across the burn,


trees surrounded by daffodils.


But, as you would expect, there are still remnants of some of the five mills (at least) that used to use the water off the lade, the most obvious being Law Mill near the outermost part of the Lade Braes. According to town records, there has been a mill on this site since Medieval times, its current form is from 1757.

Law Mill is mostly ruined, but the Law Mill Cottage next to it sits on a beautifully picturesque join of the Kinness, and Cairnsmill Burns, and worthy of a photo in any season.


The mill does keep several of its features, despite it being in somewhat of a decrepit state. The pyramid roof of the drying kiln is still visible, as is the metal frame of the wheel. Unfortunately the mill and cottage are both on private land, but you can still get a good nosy-in from the lade pathway!


The area around the mill is particularly pretty in Spring, thanks in part to the flowering cherry trees! I'm a sucker for blossom!


The last mill to avail itself of water from the lade closed at the beginning of the twentieth century, but water from the lade continued to be used until the 1950's; a sluice (that is still noticeable from the path) was opened up to feed a skating pond situated in a flat patch of ground between the lade and the Kinness Burn. Nowadays, it's just a flat area covered in young trees, but if you know the history it becomes very clear where the pond used to be!


The Lade Braes is a lovely walk without knowing the background of the area, but you know me, a little history makes Nic a happy walker!

And daffodils. Daffodils are happy-inducing too!


Tuesday, 21 February 2017

A Glimpse Of Galanthus

Cleaning up borders, flower-beds, large tracts of weed-covered land, is satisfying in many ways. I mean, turning weedy-green and over-grown ground in to swathes of dark-chocolate-coloured earth is hard work, but the blank canvas that the bare soil presents afterwards is so very intriguing. Exciting, even! What will grow here? What is already growing here? (Yeah, probably more weeds...) What has grown here in the past? 

One part of my Granddad's old garden sits in the lee of a large conifer/privet/yew hedge. It sees very little light at the best of the year, and in Winter it's lucky to see daylight at all, never mind anything direct in the sun department.

It's this part that was once a rockery. Well, technically it's still a rockery - the rocks are still there, after all, but serving as stepping-stones over the weeds to the pole of the washing-line, rather than focal-points of the border.

I do so wish I'd taken before shots. Weeds. Just weeds, turf, wild strawberries, clover, thistles, the odd bramble here and there. Mother Nature was doing a very good job of trying to take back her own!

But after tidying up a few shrubs, and clearing the weed-pocalypse I discovered a world of bulbs already pushing their way through the ground, and ended up pictorially documenting their flowery story.


I may not have managed to see the snowdrops at Sorghvliet this year, but the home garden set quite a decent show itself, once it was free of the choking embrace of Nature Gone Wild!



The good thing is, though, that although it's not quite a 10k step walk, digging, bending, weeding, it's all good exercise. Well. Exercise, at least! ;)

Monday, 23 January 2017

A Hazy Shade of Winter

There's nothing like a bit of hazy, yet chilly, sunshine to make your phone's camera go all ‘ooh-shiny', and sparkly-lensed with picture-taking possibilities!


Although, to be fair, there's a lot to be said for after-shot editing, because this baby was quite dull (except for our obvious Day Star) and needed a little tweaking in the light and dark balance department.

But what can I say? 


Hazy winter light does wonders to what could be quite a tonally flat view!


Contrast is our friend. If not in real life, then definitely in cyber life!


Although why I chose a contrast-light photo to follow that, I'm not one hundred per cent sure... Ah, this one is better:


Kemback; always an exercise, and photographic inspiration!

Friday, 20 January 2017

Spice Up Your Life II

My sister makes the most amazing stuffing for Christmas, with gingerbread and bacon, which in itself sounds like something you'd dream of, whether in nightmare-, or day-dream form I'll leave for you to decide. It's a Nigella recipe, though, so you can imagine it's really pretty marvellous! (And it is!)

But you see, since discovering that gluten is not a friend of my internal workings, things like this are either put in the ‘No Can Do Any More' list, or relegated to the ‘Maybe On A Special Occasion If You're Lucky And The Planets Have Aligned In A Positive Manner' list, because GF gingerbread cake is impossible to find in the wilds of Morrisons, and the few recipes I had previously found looked faff-tastic to say the least. UNTIL (cue the lightbulb of discovery - ping) I stumbled across this recipe at Gluten-Free On A Shoestring. Oh me, oh my, oh just put it in my mouth already oh.

Now, in the spirit of full disclosure, I made this before Christmas for the afore-mentioned gingerbread stuffing but I forgot to document it in the style in which you're now accustomed. So for you, yes that includes you lurking at the back there, seeing as it's been a while since I bombarded you with a GF recipe translated into my own inimitable language style of occasional criticising commentary and Fake Food Blogger™ WTFery, here's a little morsel to keep you going...


You need:


350g all-purpose gluten-free flour
1 ¼ tsps xantham gum (don't add if your flour already contains some)
1 ½ tsps baking soda
½ tsp baking powder
2 tsps ground cinnamon
2 tsps ground ginger
½ tsp salt
100g granulated sugar
109g light brown sugar
2 tbsps or 42g molasses (I used black treacle)
6 tbsps or 126g pure maple syrup
4 tbsps or 84g honey
112g unsalted butter, melted and cooled
1 egg (at room temp, beaten)
1 cup or 225ml warm water
2 tbsps or 28g vegetable oil

We ALL know how much I am not a fan of being asked to pre-heat an oven that will stay pre-heating while you let your dough rise for 18 hours/freeze-form your cookies overnight, and I am pleased to say that this was not the case here, as having made this before I knew it was a relatively quick make. Yes indeed, I pre-heated my oven to 175℃ like a boss.

Then getting out a large bowl (:: sobs quietly, remembering her trusty mixing bowls that were donated to charity back in NL ::) you fill it with the flour, xantham gum, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon, ginger, salt and granulated sugar and give it a jolly good mix.


Once it's all jolly well mixed, add the brown sugar and mix it up again, making sure to break up any lumps.

Next you need to add the molasses (treacle), maple syrup, honey, butter and egg, “mixing to combine after each addition". Or, if you're like me, you'll measure out all the treacle, maple syrup and honey into one bowl before adding them to the dry ingredients in one sticky go, forgetting that the honey will layer at the bottom, the maple syrup will lie nonchalantly on top, and the treacle will refuse to have anything to do with either of them and keep itself to itself in the centre of the bowl. I think treacle may have issues.


After mixing all the ingredients up, do NOT do as it did, and add the mix as-is to the prepared loaf tin. It will look like this - a thick, dough-like consistency, that, yes, tastes amazing (don't judge - the spoon had to get washed anyway), but doesn't look quite right. 

It looks like this because it still needed the addition of warm water and vegetable oil. 


I suppose the only good thing about this mistake was that it came straight out of the papered tin in one glop, leaving nary a gingery skid-mark on the paper.

No, this is what it's supposed to look like. Probably.


Possibly. The directions say that the batter will be thick, but I think the emphasis should be on ‘batter' as opposed to ‘thick', because otherwise you'll be left with something like I had to begin with - thick, yes, batter, no.

Then you place the tin in the pre-heated oven and bake for forty minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean. 
...
...
Now, when it says forty minutes, you may find that that's not enough time, because your tin might not have been big enough and your cake might look baked on top, but the rest has the wobble of Homer Simpson's belly after being poked by the doctor in ‘The Simpsons'. This is not a good look for a baked cake. I ended up de-Homer-fying it for a total of seventy minutes. Yup. 

It did come out looking like this, though,


and smelling absolutely scrumptious!

You can tell, however, that the baking wasn't one hundred percent efficient, as on slicing in to it you can clearly see the makings of an almost-crust around the edges, just drier than the rest due to it being in the oven for so long.


It does taste DIVINE, though. And the consistency is squidgy enough that it reminds me of bought gingerbread cake. Except this is better. No, really, it is! 

The next time I make this, once I've saved up enough pennies to afford the maple syrup (oy, that stuff is dear) I'll split the batter between two tins and see how much a difference that makes with the baking time and consistency, but until then I shall be content to treat myself to a slice of this delectably squidgy cake and slather it in butter, just how my Granny used to make it for us when we were wee!

Friday, 13 January 2017

Walking In A Winter Wonderland

“Nicola hasn't seen snow in person since before she started walking for weight-loss, so never had the chance to indulge in splurging social media with snowy nature pictures! UNTIL NOW!!!  Mwahahahahah!

And yes, she seems to enjoy taking photos of fallen trees that have been artfully striped in snow by Mother Nature!"

It snowed! It really snowed! My inner seven-year-old was squeeeing with delight! That it actually hadn't snowed very much at all didn't stop me haring it up the hill towards Magus Muir (or as much as one can hare it up a hill through slidey, beginning-to-melt slush-snow, wearing very stout, very heavy boots) and stopping near the entrance to turn around and take a photo of the village in Winter Wonderland mode. 


Yes, yes, I've seen it whiter after a mid-Summer hailstorm.

Thankfully, the woods had kept more of their share of the white stuff, and little girl mode kicked in again!


Every time I walk to Magus Muir I take a photo of this fallen tree. It's one of the first things that catches my eye fifty metres or so into the woods, and I find the juxtaposition of its final resting place against the upright living trees incredibly beautiful. I'd never been successful in transferring that beauty to 2D until this dusting of snow was just enough to let my camera catch the criss-crossing of the boughs.

My timing couldn't have been more perfect - the rising sun (yes, 10am, but this is Scotland in Winter!) had just made it above the tree line but hadn't yet touched the snow in the hush of the woods, so what had fallen during the night was still lying undisturbed.


And lots of fallen trees that I'm pretty sure hadn't just fallen overnight with the snow. Fallen trees EVERYWHERE!! Not that any of them have actually ruined the lives of those growing up amongst, or indeed through, them!


It must be said that although many of the trees are quite young - the majority seem to be silver birch perhaps up to 50 years old - it's an ancient woods...


... which becomes obvious when looking up to see stark branches of old, old trees reaching up towards the bright sky, the tips of which gilded by the rising sun!

I do prefer this time of year to any other. No, I lie. I prefer Autumn, Winter and early Spring to the over-abundance of Summer. You can't see the woods for the trees in Summer!

Oh, how I make myself laugh. 


I loved how the stripes of snow added an extra dimension to the tangle of undergrowth that made my detail-loving self exceedingly happy! You can imagine how these woods would look if painted by Klimt or a young Van Gogh! 


And I couldn't pass my favourite old lady of the woods without a visit, to see her reaching out towards the rising sun. Just don't tell my other favourite near Kemback that there's a rival for my arboreal affections!

Not that they'd care one way or the other, but my imagination's on a roll now...


I'd show you this photo (above) in the original colour, but, if you remember from posts past, the camera on my phone does have a tendency to add more hues to white than actually seen with the human eye. Not that it's so fancy-schmancy that it has infra-red or whatever technology is needed to see more than what's there, it just has a dodgy lens that adds pink to the middle, and green to the edge of any photo that is overly-blessed in the white department. A pastel shot of the woods might be lovely for an 1980's themed post (mmm-mmm those ‘Whiter Shades Of Pale' I believe they were called by Dulux*...?) but an arty-farty photo attempt late 2010's? Nope.


Pastels and greys aside, the light was quite beautiful in itself:


creating beautiful yellows and oranges beside the blues of the shadowed snow.


Or beautiful pinks (greys) against the greens (greys) of the shadowed... nope. One day I really am going to get a decent camera!



* Mwahahahah!


Friday, 9 December 2016

Follow The Russet Leaf Road...

...Follow the russet leaf road,
Follow, follow, follow, follow,
Follow the russet leaf road!*


I'd earmarked my day off in Den Haag for a good walk around the Scheveningse Bosjes, come rain or come shine. Hahahah! Sorry! Come shine! HAHAHAHAH! 

The thing I love about the gloom of a typically overcast Winter's day in a northern European forest is that glow. You know, the one I mean? The almost primeval light radiating from the earth through the ground cover of bronze and copper leaves.


Or is it just me...?


It's not just me! You can see it too, can't you?


Or, of course, it might just be my dodgy camera...


Nah, I don't think so!


I'm pretty sure I'm not imagining it...


and it's not the result of a migraine aura...


...but it might have something to do with the sun, when it finally deigns to join us, being so low in the sky to begin with...


Low-level lighting in every sense of the words!

*Apologies for the earworm!



Thursday, 8 December 2016

Where Am I?

You'll recognise this wonderful gateway, I'm sure...:


No?  How about this pretty little pond?


Still no?  Son, I am disappoint!

How about this branch-dissected piece of sky?


Okay, that one was maybe a tad on the hard side...

This leaf-carpeted stretch of woodland walk?


C'mon!!  I know you know!!!

So how about this elegant avenue with arty-farty bridge focal-point?  


Ah, I think you're getting an idea now... Perhaps imagining these trees standing in a sea of rich bluebells might give your powers of recollection one final push?


Yes, well done!!  Sorghvliet Park it is!

Hi honey! I'm home! :)