yarn along :: new

Posting a little early for Wednesday's Yarn Along, just in case...

The enormous new blanket that won't fit the dragon baby's bed 'til it's three is finished (dimensions = 97cm x 123cm in the end).

four colours of Rowan wool cotton striped together
(nearly... ahem... 16 balls of the stuff. Please don't tell)

I've invested in new slippers in preparation for my first Scottish Winter in three years, and the amazing Mr Breadwinner shocked me with a final, surprise constituent for our hospital bag: a Kindle. With a beautiful cover that matches my phone perfectly - so chic. I love my new toy. So does our bookshelf. If I could've jumped up and down with excitement I would've. Sadly that'll have to wait a while.

currently reading "Charlotte Street" by Danny Wallace and "Simplicity Parenting" by KJ Payne.
"The Gift of Rain" by Tan Twan Eng is queued for those first weeks of endless infant feeding.

Meanwhile I treated myself to some Cascade 220 for The Boss' new winter jumper (thank you for all your recommendations last week). We consciously keep pink in moderation, and I can confirm that being mindful of princessification during the first formative five years of my daughter's life has worked so far, pink isn't an overbearing issue in our house. But this looked soft and pretty and cosy, and we wouldn't dream of banning the colour altogether. (We're not total bampots.) A pink jumper will be something new, both for me to make and for her to wear.

details: 3 skeins Cascade 220 Heathers in Framboise, destined to be an age 6 Rubble,
using a ChiaoGoo 60cm 4.5mm circular needle (my favourite needles of all time)

So, come on new baby. We're SO ready for your close up now.

trowel to table in three short hours

Four posts in one week? Yes, I'm staying rather close to home and need something to take my mind off impending labour. I thought last night might have been the night. Turned out it wasn't. Can't be far off.

So, let me share something tasty and seasonal with you instead.

A little over a year ago, my second ever blogpost was only read by one person I think (and she kinda had to, she's one of my best friends). A mawkish piece of navel gazing that we won't dwell on. But the subject matter, carrot cake, is very important and deserves to be revisited.

Yesterday, The Boss and I pulled up all of our remaining crop of Chantenay carrots, amounting to about 1.5lb. Actually, she pulled them up, and did the comedy falling over backwards thing when they popped out of the soil. That's why I left it to her, it's funnier on a leggy kid than a massively pregnant heifer. She bounces.

And so, here's a revisit of the yummiest carrot cake recipe I know (even better with homegrown carrots rather than jumbo imported Australian ones that we had to use in Singapore). Details follow the photos.

It's so delicious that I actually think icing slightly ruins it. And it's perfect for making with kids because a whisk and spoon suffices: no need for electronic gadgets with scary finger-chopping potential. (Though I do use the grater attachment on the food processor these days, turning the tedious carrot-grating bit into the work of mere moments.)

with homegrown raspberries - therefore virtually a health food

Carrot cake

6 oz wholemeal flour
3 oz self-raising flour
6 oz muscavado sugar
6 oz soft brown sugar
3 large eggs
6 floz sunflower oil
55ml sour cream
2 tspn vanilla essence
1 tspn grated nutmeg
2 tspn cinnamon
1 tspn bicarbonated soda
½ tspn salt
11 oz grated carrot
3 oz dessicated coconut


Bowl 1: Eggs, oil, vanilla, sour cream. Mix the wet ingredients together (by hand is fine, no need to whip it into a frenzy) and then sieve in sugars.

Bowl 2: Sieve the flours, nutmeg, cinnamon, soda, baking powder and salt together.

Fold the dry mix into the wet mix.

Fold in the carrot and coconut.

Bake in a large tin at 150C for 90-120 minutes. (I find 90 long enough, but test with a skewer.)

These James Grieve apples that are ripening so beautifully had better watch out. I've got treacle-y plans for them next... but in the meantime, I'm off to eat some cake.

almost impossible to believe these colours are straight out of camera!

Post Script:
So strangely it seems that today is THE day for blogging about carrot cake. What can I say, great minds thinking alike?! Here's a gluten-free version from the Domestic Sluts, and for something completely different, here's Shu Han's Singaporean carrot cake (warning: this stuff is seriously delicious).

37 weeks expectant acrophobe stands on a chair

A few weeks ago I joked that I was making a baby blanket big enough to swaddle my coffee table. As the accompanying photo proves, this is now a reality. 

Definitely no longer a baby blanket. You'd lose a baby in that thing.

Anyway, these are the final three balls of yarn, so the epic 99,000-garter stitch project is at last nearing an end. It'll look all kinds of chi chi on the end of the (double!) bed in our spare room, recently painted in fancy schmancy shades of grey.

I'm at that point where I'm pretty sure I'll go in to labour as soon as the final end is woven in (hope I haven't jinxed that now). Mind you, to get this photo I had to stand on a chair (and I consider standing on a chair cause for having my mobile set to 999 even when I'm not at full-term). I shan't be doing that again. Promise. Anyway, hope that explains the slightly out-of-focus squinty photo. Give me a moment while I wipe the beads from my brow...

So, time for a new project for after the baby arrives. It'll have to be something for The Boss. She's pretty nonplussed about all her handknit garments (to a five year old a jumper is a jumper is a jumper after all, blissfully ignorant as they are to those evenings of cursing and frogging) but I need to make something for her just so that I know. Do you get what I mean? If there's a metaphorical kiss in every stitch and all that, then the dragon baby's been hogging a lot of the stitches, and it's not even born yet. So I need to remedy the imbalance for my own state of mind.

Yarn Along saves the day again with Greer's photos of this edible little sweater (and edible little girl) which have completely whelmed me over. In another browser window, I'm searching Loop for just the right shade of worsted yarn as we speak. Quince Lark stock is running low but there is enough of some colours left. Cascade 220 would work out cheaper. Or should I stick with the Brooklyn Tweed stated by the pattern? Tweed isn't always a favourite look for little girls.

I've never used any of them before - any advice?

And for reading, there's another something you can maybe help me with. There's a been a book doing the rounds and mentioned on several Yarn Along posts over the past few months that I am longing to get a hold of. I've commented to that effect on lots of your posts... and then promptly forgotten to write down the details (blame baby brain). It's non-fiction about organising/simplifying family life (I don't mean 7 by Jen Hatmaker, but Tracey's post about that today made me think of it...)

If you have any idea what I'm babbling on about, please let me know.

Oh, and it was Tracey who won my giveaway last week of the lace-weight shawl kit - hurrah! Couldn't go to a nicer lady, and I do so like making brown paper parcels :-)

the one with the makeover

Don't panic, I haven't spawned yet, but in preparation for the big day it feels like time to get rid of my old strapline "jack of all trades, mother of one". Sadly I'm such a filing div that I can't find the original photoshop file of my old banner, so simply changing it wasn't an option. In the meantime, there's a new banner that rather sums everything up at the moment.

it rains all the time in Scotland... honest

me and Dan Lepard :: two degrees of separation

Only one week in and I'm officially the neglectful mother of the playground pariah.

Quite some achievement in such a short time and all because I telepathically failed to pick up on an unwritten primary school memo stating that: five-year-old children must be encouraged to snack ALL THE TIME, and you must provide said snacks in her homework bag daily, obviously, you cretinous woman.

[Edit: I'd better clarify for some of my readers who have been kind enough to be aghast in their comments, that here I am being belligerent, melodramatic and bad-tempered because an institution has made me feel ignorant. The actual truth is that the kids apparently have snacks for playtime, and I hadn't supplied any. Go on now, make me feel bad for never even having considered giving her a morning snack before in her life. Dare you!]

Internally I veered from the irate (why the hell didn't they tell me this last week?) to the practical (gah, it'll need to be prepackaged and shopbought, because the homework bag is completely flat and full of paper) and back to the irate again (she's at school for barely two and half hours between breakfast and lunch at home, and school gives out free milk and fruit... yet I have to provide MORE food? WTF?).

So, my mission, should I choose to accept it (not that there's any choice about this): Quick, easy for small hands, won't make a mess in the homework bag, and (critically from my point of view) doesn't require any plastic tubbery that I definitely won't get back.

Luckily, Dan Lepard saved the day. Kind of (this is just really an excuse for me to tell you a story - as if you didn't know that already).

There's a lady of elegant maturity who has known me all my life. The kind of person who has sat next to my family in church since long before I was a twinkle in my father's eye. She made tiny cubes of tablet and macaroons to accompany the coffee after my wedding (and not your atas macaroons either, we're talking the Scottish ones made of potatoes). She made huge boxes of pre-sliced gingerbread and custard creams for my puerperial phase five years ago - demonstrating a clear understanding that high-calorie nourishment needs to be accessible with only one hand at that point in a girl's life. She is a baker of serious calibre.

But don't take my word for it. A few years ago, Dan Lepard wrote about her and published one of her recipes in his column for a national newspaper. Yes, she's THAT much of a legend. And, mercifully, the method that was printed, for pancakes, is exactly the same as my Granny's. Which means it is definitely right. Again, we're talking about the Scottish ones -  not crepes, not fluffy American alternatives, not pan scones or drop scones or any of the other names that people give them - these are pancakes, plain and simple. Dan would agree I'm sure.

A large batch of pancakes, frozen individually in sandwich bags and chucked into the homework bag the night before - phew, I think I've found one solution that we're all happy with for the moment.

So if you're making raspberry jam this month (our wet Summer has been great for one crop at least), then I suggest you whip up a quick batch of these pancakes and smother them in butter and jam while they're still warm.

And if you have any other ideas that would fit my tightly-defined remit (small, flat, non-squishy/non-crumbly snack) I'd really love to hear your suggestions. Because I don't know if a plain pancake, no matter how good, will cut it as a playground snack every day for the next seven years...

Black Isle wild raspberries