Category: Herbs

Aug 10

Bees

The English city riots this week have been disturbing and depressing. I’m not sure how to process any of it. I certainly don’t feel like pointing the finger, but it makes me ask myself questions. Have we all (actively or passively) approved a culture of greed? Have we judged people by what they have rather than who they really are? Have we made an effort to connect with those of a different generation, class or ethnicity? Or have we contributed to social exclusion? I wonder if each of us can resolve to make a difference going forward, rather than seeking to cast blame.

If I want to think, this is one of my favourite spots for contemplation and soul-searching.

Bee Central

It looks better than it is. I remade that bench a decade ago from junk-shop cast-iron supports. The slats bend when I sit down (and I’m not the biggest person). But if I tentatively position my rear, the cat usually decides she’ll join me, and we remain for a few moments in companionable silence. Except for the buzzing of the bees.

And just look at those bees! I had to share them with you.

Busy bees

They love the globe thistles on one side of the bench, and the marjoram on the other. I didn’t have to wait long to find two bees together; sometimes there are many more on each flower, easing peaceably round each other on their pollen-collecting mission. Their purposeful presence reminds me that something surprising is thriving in our cities, for bees are apparently doing well now in our urban gardens; I heard that on the early morning news recently, but can’t find reference to the story. Did you hear it too?

Here are some more restful garden pictures as I think we could all do with a little soothing this week. If you’d like to share your thoughts on what soothes you, or what you do to make a positive difference in your neck of the woods (however big or small) do spill them here. Seems we’re in need of a little wisdom.

Echinacea & sea holly

Globe thistle

Echinacea & allium seedhead

Globe thistle

White echinacea

Sweet pea

Ripening grapes

Prostrate rosemary tips

 

 

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Posted in Bath places, Herbs, Life leakage

May 04

Larkhall Festival

I had a very busy time on Saturday afternoon showing the Eastern fringe of Bath how to make little lavender hearts from what began as an old blanket. This was one of the larks of the Larkhall Festival.

Larkhall Festival - Scrap Heart Workshop

Larkhall Festival larks - scrap blanket workshop

Preparing on the Friday was fun; I was able to watch the royal wedding from behind a pair of scissors, cutting out 150 little individual hearts. Can you see how it influenced me as I compiled my groups of ten? No, neither can I.

Blanket hearts a la royale

Cutting out materials for the scrap blanket hearts

And I didn’t shed any tears. That was just blanket fluff in my eye, honest.

Then I grabbed a load of lavender.

Lavender jar

Big jar of lavender

And a few embroidery threads and balls of mohair (which I like to use for the blanket-stitching, though the latter’s not so very good for beginners as it tends not to behave). I took my trusty bunting (made twenty whole years ago for my very own wedding and loaned out since to a gazillion garden parties & fetes), and Mimi’s fish, just for the company and inspiration (“One day, small child, you could upcycle something like THIS!”)

Thanks to the very capable Polly for helping me out. And to everyone for being so patient while I made my way round to you to help thread needles, tie knots and finish off loose ends. Teaching sewing is fun. It’s such an eye-opener, for one thing. Polly asked one very small boy if he knew how to thread a needle. Yes, he replied. A couple of minutes later she looked back at his needle to find he’d meticulously wrapped his thread ever so neatly around the full length of it. Hmmm. I guess that would be one way to legitimately ‘thread a needle’, just not the one we were looking for. She could hardly bear to disappoint him by unfurling it again. That brought me up short as I realised that sewing terms, like any other technical jargon, are fraught with confusion for the complete novice. We quickly forget the strangeness of language, once we’ve digested and understood it.

I was aiming for this type of thing, but the results were more vibrant and various. Blanket stitch wasn’t always the stitch of choice for participants (even if they started out doing it, they frequently ended up producing something else, even if not intentionally) but there was plenty of personality, and I was delighted to see lots of personalising and initialising going on. The lavender seemed to be loved by all, and children were witnessed ‘losing their needles’ in the lavender box just so they could scrunch their fingers through it again and again. And why not? We were chilling. The needles were reassuringly blunt, by the way.

Though tolerant of irregularities and differences of approach (there’s usually more than one legitimate way of doing something) I find myself driven to correct one thing: tying a knot in the thread behind the needle. This one makes me twitch. I don’t know but assume (can anyone confirm?) that this is how sewing is taught in primary schools when kids work with Binca and yarn. I feel that this makes the yarn and needle behave a little oddly and try to encourage simply leaving a longer thread-tail. Am I alone in having this aversion?

I’ve decided I should get off my derriere and offer sewing upcycling classes. Venue tba, but somewhere in Bath. Do leave a comment or get in touch with me via my email (eirlysATscrapianaDOTcom) if you’d like information about these. Be sure to mention if you’d be interested in children’s or adults’ classes, and if daytimes, evenings or weekends suit you best. And don’t forget to leave a means of contacting you.

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Posted in Bath places, Embroidery, Grand days out, Herbs, Rag, Thrift, Vintage bedding, Vintage fabrics

Nov 29

Scrap of the Week #7

It’s the final countdown to Little Scraplet’s school Christmas fair this weekend, and I’m making as many blanket hearts as I can. The blanket in question was an old family one which was too far gone to be mended, so I decided its time was up: it was curtains for the blanket.

Blanket heart construction

Heart-making in progress

I gave it a good boil-wash before starting, then steam-pressed it. My template is a cookie cutter: no point reinventing the wheel.

I’ve been experimenting with different threads (embroidery floss, mohair, crochet cotton) with pleasing results; I really like the way pink mohair looks – it lifts the rather spartan blanket-weave – but haven’t taken shots of those hearts yet. The ones pictured use half a length of 6-strand embroidery cotton (so three strands) just out of habit; that’s how I was shown to used embroidery floss as a girl. The needle I used is a tapestry one, partly because it’s blunt (I may be showing kids how to make these), partly because it has a large eye to accommodate thick yarn. It gets through the rather loose weave of the blanket pretty well, though I think I’d prefer a chenille needle, with a large eye (like a tapestry) and with a pointed end.

Lavender stuffing

Stuffing with lavender

The loop is old linen upholstery string I had lying around. I knot the length of string and sandwich it between the two blanket hearts, cinching it in place with my first blanket stitch. Once I’ve blanket-stitched most of the way round, I teaspoon in the lavender stuffing before finishing off. There’s probably an easier and more efficient way, but this is mine.

Completed scrap heart

All done

A little rough and ready, though not without charm. They can decorate the Christmas tree, or go over a hanger to keep clothes fresh and moth-free. I hope the kids (and their parents) like them.

Before I go, I must tip my hat to the hugely talented Lisa who creates the most beautiful upcycled woollen hearts and who inspired me to have a go too, even if mine are a far cry from the perfection she manages to achieve.

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Posted in Herbs, Rag, Scrap of the week, Thrift, Vintage bedding

Nov 23

Scrap kitty

All this talk of first sewing-machine experiences reminded me that jeans renovation featured prominently in mine. A previous incarnation of the skinny jean, c.1980, required them to look as though they had been sprayed on. I couldn’t afford to buy them (or maybe they weren’t even available to buy) so had to adapt what I had (straights? I think we’d already abandoned flares). As far as denim was concerned, this was the pre-Lycra era, making skin-tight pretty difficult to achieve. But with plenty of pinning, trimming, sewing and endless trying on (and peeling off), the more grimly determined teens among us got there. How sad that I can find no photographic evidence!

Well, I’m more likely to deconstruct jeans completely nowadays, and turn them into something else. Or sew on the odd knee-patch for Little Scraplet, who can hole a trouser in just one wearing. Little Scraplet’s friend’s 11th birthday party (actually back in September, but forgive me for being slow to post about it) sent me to my scrap bag looking for a suitable gift idea.

I leafed through Pip Lincolne‘s charmingly fun retro-styled Meet Me At Mike’s book and found a sweet kitty pattern. Looked good to me, and Little Scraplet approved. This is a really appealing project book, but I think there may have been a problem with the pattern-drafting (seam allowances omitted?) as I thought my kitty emerged looking like the one in the book after a celebrity crash-diet. And the instructions didn’t tell me to cut out the correct number of pieces (forgetting you need two for each arm and leg). Getting caught in an instruction-/pattern- failure ambush tends to puncture the ‘can-do’ approach just a little. I’m sufficiently experienced to read around the instructions and figure out how to fix it without the book’s help, but I thought it would be a pity for someone attempting a first project (the book’s real audience, I would guess) to be derailed so soon. End of rant. Well, it all came out OK in the end, though my kitty was a bit skinnier than she might have been.

Scrap kitty

Scrap kitty tries to relax

The rest of her is scrap or thrifted. Her face is cut from a felted 2nd-hand sweater. She’s stuffed with a 2nd-hand bag of unused toy stuffing (the stuff I find in cupboards!)  plus some lavender. She can’t be washed but smells s-o-o-o relaxing.

Scrap kitty face

Scrap cat close-up

I was slightly disappointed by her final mouth, realising that I liked the effect of the pin that had been holding her nose on during construction (vertical line and dot) and I should’ve tried to emulate that. Nevermind. Maybe another time.

Feedback on kitty was good. Sort of. Recipient’s older sister had purloined it as her mascot (she was taking exams), and was refusing to relinquish it. The mother cooed and said I should be making and selling them. Well, obviously I can’t ‘cos it’s not my pattern, but it’s a nice thought.

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Posted in Book review, Herbs, Rag, Scrap of the week, Thrift

Jul 19

Scrap of the Week #5

What am I making from scraps?

Curried magnolia petals?

I bought this turmeric-golden canvas remnant in a charity shop a while back. Somebody had marked it into quite small patchwork pieces and even cut a few out. It must have made for some heavy-weather patchwork-piecing, I’d have thought. No wonder it was dumped. But I liked the weave and knew the right project would come along. Can you see what I singled it out for?

See what it is yet?

Satisfyingly dense interfaced canvas

Having lined it with iron-on interfacing (it was just a tad unstable), I cut 6 symmetrical, magnolia petal-shaped pieces, sewed them together and…

A lovely pear!

…found a piece of scrap grosgrain ribbon for the top (more texture) and…

Giant pear doorstop

…stuffed it with lavender and grain. The result is heavy and yet sweetly scented enough to hold open the best of doors, allowing any fortunate guests crossing the threshold ample opportunity to utter: “What a lovely pear!”

Job done.

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Posted in Herbs, Scrap of the week, Thrift

Jun 15

Reasons to be Cheerful

Before I leave the kitchen garden and head back towards fabric inspiration for a while, I hope you don’t mind if I briefly sing the praises of lemon balm.

The restorative, life-extending powers of Melissa officinalis are legendary. The Greeks revered it, used it to treat wounds, and crushed it near their hives to attract the bees home again (it’s attractiveness to our buzzing friends gives it another of its names: “bee balm”). The Romans rated it enough to bring it with them when they colonised Britain. Llewellyn, the thirteenth century Prince of Glamorgan, regularly took lemon balm tea and lived to be 108. It’s known as “heart’s delight” in its native southern Europe, and was called the “elixir of life” by Renaissance physician Paracelsus. The Pilgrims took it to America, and it now grows all over the world.

The London Dispensary in 1696 claimed: “Balm, given every morning, will renew youth, strengthen the brain and relieve languishing nature.” It was even considered a cure for baldness. Sixteenth century herbalist John Gerard gave it to his students to “quicken the senses”, and research seems to bear out that it aids memory function. It sedates the central nervous system which may explain why it appears to be effective to some degree against anxiety and depression.

I rather like its flavour, but love it for the way it grows because it’s another of those plants which romps away without needing to be babied. Just give it a little sun and it’ll even grow quite happily even in a pot. And it self-seeds (though not the golden variety shown here – that’s a little more restrained). In fact, it’s really a glorified weed. Back to my thrift theme, in the summer months, I reckon it could save me all of 5p on my usual nightly herbal teabag. Every little helps.

To make a cup of lemon balm tea, just pick about 5 decent-sized leaves and put them in a cup. Pour freshly boiled water on top and leave to steep for 5-10 minutes. That’s it. You can leave the leaves in the cup as you drink. As the name indicates, it has a fresh, lemony flavour.

Variegated lemon balm leaf

Melissa officinalis 'Aurea'

The first time my husband tried a bedtime brew of fresh lemon balm tea, about 15 years ago, he had the most euphoric dream he’s ever had: a particularly vivid one in which he personally scored the winning goal for England in the World Cup. How can you top that? I wonder if it grows in South Africa…

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Posted in Herbs, Thrift

Jun 12

Rose Vinegar

Life may be too short to stuff a mushroom, as Shirley Conran once famously observed, but I hope it’s long enough to make rose vinegar.

When I say “make”, it’s just a question of soaking scented rose petals in white wine vinegar for a couple of weeks. You don’t really have to do anything. Time and a little window sunlight do the job for you. And the result is jewel-coloured and frankly a little magical; remember those perfume potions you tried to make from rose petals and tap water when you were a kid? They never worked. Well, this one does. It can be used to make exotic salad dressings or to sour cream or milk for baking purposes; I’ve used it to sour cream for a devil’s food cake chocolate frosting which was out of this world.

Of course, the devil is in the detail and first you have to track down your scented rose. Do please ask your neighbour first if they mind before you lop any blooms from across the hedge. If you want to buy a commercially produced rose to make this, do check whether your rose is suitable for culinary purposes (i.e. that it hasn’t been sprayed with anything deadly to man and beast). Tip: it’s best to use a dark rose. Apparently the darker the rose, as a rule of thumb, the stronger the scent. You certainly won’t get that lovely ruby colour without it. This rose grows in my garden and has the most wonderful velvety texture and scent. I have no idea what its name is, but I wait for it to blossom each May with real anticipation.

Sweet-smelling rose

A luxuriously scented red rose from my garden

If you’re lucky enough to have access to garden roses, pick your newly opened rose in the morning, after the dew has been evaporated by any sunlight that you’re fortunate enough to have (I live in England so this is a sore point); that’s when your rose has the strongest scent. If you’re really picky, give your rose a wash, but you may wash away a good deal of the scent too. My policy is simply to remove any obvious wildlife, and I haven’t found any nasties in my resulting vinegar yet.

Now locate a clean bottle or wide-mouthed jar. Place in this the petals which you now remove from your rose. One rose’s worth of petals is usually sufficient.

Making rose vinegar

Place the petals in a clean bottle or jar

Add enough white wine vinegar to cover the petals, or fill to top, as desired.

Dill seedlings and rose vinegar

Leave on a sunny windowsill for about 2 weeks

Seal and leave bottle/jar on a sunny windowsill for about 2 weeks.

Rose vinegar, a day later

This is what you get after just one day - colour/flavour will intensify further

Strain through a sieve and/or muslin and re-bottle (in a spankingly clean receptacle). Seal with a cork, label, enjoy or give away to a grateful friend/bemused adversary. This is one of those projects which is both thrifty and luxurious (I love that!). If you try it, tell me what you think of it, or what you make from it. If you’re baffled that anyone should do such a thing, please have a go. I promise that, in the depths of winter, you’ll uncork that bottle, sniff it and remember those warm summer days with real pleasure.

Red rose

Velvety red rose

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Posted in Herbs, Thrift

May 27

My Thrifty Lunch

Marjoram and chives are growing happily in my garden at the moment, without any encouragement at all, bar the odd dose of spent coffee grounds on the chives. I love their independence just as much as their abundance. Many years of gardening trial-an-error have taught me that my plants need to be able to withstand a goodly amount of neglect; they may not get watered; they may not get fed; they will not be fussed over. Hot-house flowers need not apply.

Marjoram patch

Overgrowing marjoram

Once in bloom, both marjoram and chives are wonderfully attractive to bees, so that’s another fine reason to grow them. I’m not entirely sure what species of marjoram this is – can you tell? I think it may be French/pot marjoram.

Anyway, it needs containing as it tends to grow over the path and seating area, so this is giving me the perfect excuse to take a few ad hoc handfuls for lunches. Its very mild and, together with the chive flowers, looked good enough to use as the basis of a leafy/flowery version of Greek salad. To my delight, it went down really well with the salad-eaters in the family, so I’ve made it three times this week already. I think the marjoram’s growing faster than I can pick it.

Marjoram leaves & chive flowers

Marjoram & chive, ready to go in the Leafy Greek salad

Leafy Greek salad

A good 2 or 3 handfuls of fresh marjoram,  woodier stems removed
several chive flowers (optional – if you don’t have any, use sliced spring onion or other onion instead)
quarter of a cucumber, sliced chunkily with each slice quartered
4 tomatoes, chopped
half a pepper, chopped
stoned black olives, as many as you care for
half a pack of feta, crumbled over the above
half a lemon, squeezed over the lot
A good glug of extra-virgin olive oil
fresh grinding of pepper

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Posted in Herbs, Thrift

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This work by Scrapiana is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported.