They were so full of promise

After a week of fluctuating weather - some days glorious, some positively autumnal, some days had a bit of both, I finally had what looked like edible tomatoes.

They had been fully formed and green for some time, but it has taken perhaps 3 week for them to actually turn red - at first there was a patchy flush of peach colouring, it deepened to an all-over orange and finally this week, they actually looked like proper tomatoes. At least a few of them do - I still have about 40 green specimens, at this rate, they'll end up in chutney.

My husband has monitored them like a kid waiting for a cake to rise, wide eyed and salivating. He loves a flavoursome tomato and loves the smell of them, commenting on the fragrance everytime he brushed past the plants.

I think we'll have to be satisfied with enjoying them this way - as a visual creation. Please click to see a larger copy.

Last night, he could contain himself no longer and went out and picked the 5 tomatoes shown - he called me down to witness them and ceremoniously grabbed our best serrated tomato-cutting knife and chopping board and sliced the juiciest example right down the middle, mercilessly splitting it asunder.

We stood in admiration at the perfectly formed centre and juicy fruitiness of something that came into being at our own hand. We steeled ourselves to savour the moment of glory and each mouthed a half. It's true to say that the flavour was good. Very good. Just what you'd hope for from a home grown, loved and well tended specimen.

But it was mushy and soft and the texture was pretty unpleasant. I suspect the long period they took to ripen was not kind on the fruity flesh. I feel so sorry for him, he was so looking forward to eating them, I feel that he has been cheated and it was with a heavy heart as I put the breakfast things back in the fridge, I saw that the remaining four specimens were sitting there un-loved. They never even made it into his lunch box. What a cruel blow for him after all that anticipation.

Bringing a piece of metal to life

We had a reasonably rare summer weekend of decent weather and I was sitting in the garden finishing off a piece I'd been working on and my husband was nearby. He took the piece and turned it over in his hand and asked how much I was going to sell it for. He shrugged and said that if people knew how much work went into it and all the stages, necessary tools and skills involved, they'd realise what a bargain they were getting.

So I decided that it might be useful to take the piece in question and outline the workflow such a piece entails to get it to the stage where it is ready to present to the buying public. I wish I'd taken photos of it in progress, but I will do with the next piece.

The raw ingredients I started with.

The piece is a 50mm/2" diameter heavy copper ring pendant, hammered and filled with random copper squiggles, bound with wrappings of Sterling silver, complimented with a Sterling silver wrapped bail - all hanging from an antiqued copper chain with hand crafted hook and loop fastening.


1. The first stage is to come up with the design. Sometimes I draw an idea straight off and work it from that initial idea and it ends up almost exactly like my drawing. Sometimes I start with an idea and it morphs as I work into something different and sometimes I just pick up materials and the design just happens - some materials just present their own ideas. In this case, it was a plan to replace some recently sold pieces with something similar - but not copies - same basic design premise, but different shapes. So I didn't initially sketch this time - although I did part way through as I wanted to visualise what style of bail to use.

2. I worked the heavy copper into a ring and prepared for soldering closed. In order to make a good, safe connection, the join in the metal before I switch the torch on must be as perfect and clean as it can be. So I carefully position and angle the cut ends and clean and smooth the end surfaces. If I put the piece down and then can't find the join, I know I've done a decent job in preparation. The idea is to bond the ends to each other, not to connect the ends by filling the gap with a blob of molten solder. If you can see more than a pencil line width of solder in the join, you did a bad job. I find the trickiest aspect of this is actually cutting a piece of solder small enough - even the tiniest little ball will cause it to run over the outer surface if you were good in preparing a really nice tight join.


3. The join needs to be soldered with silver solder - I need a torch, solder, flux and safety gear and an appropriate place to work. I have to prepare my work area meticulously before lighting the flame - you don't want to find some key tool is out of reach and be tempted to reach over a hot work surface. I only once started to work and realised that my goggles were on the bench, not my nose - and that was the very moment I lost my eyebrows, eyelashes and an inch from the front of my hair. I was very lucky that was all I lost, as a failed O ring in the torch caused me to be engulfed in flames - it happened in an instant. Please never be tempted to save time or cut costs by compromising safety. Gear simply can fail and accidents can just happen - ensure you're as safe as you can be, I learned that lesson the hard way - make sure that you learn from it too - not first hand.

4. Once the joint has been soldered, the piece will have become firescaled and blackened and needs cleaning - this is done by immersing in a hot pickle solution and subsequently cleaning. The torch heat will also have softened the copper too, so it needs carefully re-shaping and hardening. I did this for this design by hammering the ring slightly flat, after ensuring that I had a good circle shape.


5. I now create the internal copper squiggles, which takes quite some trial and error to get them to fit in the circle and touch each other and the edges enough to ensure the piece is stable and secure in wear. Once satisfied, I hammer them for appearance and to lock the shape. This then requires some further fine tuning as the hammering expands the size of the piece, even though I'd made it a bit small initially in anticipation.

6. I decided that the open size of the circle would be more secure if the inner squiggles were soldered to the frame in a couple of spots - this would also benefit me in securing it for me to wrap with the silver - the first wraps can be like knitting with mercury without something to keep it all stable. So in order to ensure that it joined exactly where I wanted it, I needed to prepare the joints as carefully as previously and I had to temporarily wire the squiggles to the frame so that they didn't move while I worked.

7. Once soldered, I again had to treat the firescale by pickling and then also re-harden the copper. Ideally, I would have done all the soldering in one sitting, but the design and workflow don't always make this practical. At this stage I fine-tuned the shape and finally hammered the overall piece for finish and strength.


8. By now I was ready to wire wrap with Silver. I wrapped carefully at all the junctions where the two frames connected, with soft Sterling wire. This is best done by doing part of one, then a section opposite, gradually working all the sections, to ensure that the tension of the overall piece isn't compromised - although the earlier soldering makes this task much easier.

9. The raw ends of the silver were all carefully pressed down tight on the back of the piece and the ends individually filed to ensure that there are no snag hazards on the back of the piece.

10. I was now ready to add a bail. My first early thought was to wrap something in silver to co-ordinate with the decorative edge wrappings - and despite several sketches to explore other ideas, I didn't change my mind - it felt right for the design. So I created a double wire loop bail and wrapped the ends around the outer circle.


11. The ends of the bail were also extensively filed as the heavier gauge of silver wire used would present a serious potential to scratch if the ends weren't smoothed. I used several gauges of file to take the corners off the cut ends, finishing with some elbow grease and polish to give a lovely smooth finish to the touch.

12. At this stage, I considered the metal work to be completed and the next stage would be to finish the piece - in terms of both colour and touch. I love it when a metal piece feels silky smooth to the touch and I put a lot of effort into this stage. I manually polished any imperfections in the surface - this needs time and a lot of caressing the piece with your fingers - I am guided by how the metal feels to my touch. Once satisfied with this stage, I tumble polish the piece, checking regularly, to get a nice surface feel and to clean the metal thoroughly for oxidising.

13. I like to antique both copper and silver pieces where I've done much wrapping, as the oxidisation really brings out the texture of the coils and adds detail. So the entire piece was oxidised to black in a warm liver of sulphur solution. This is how I often end up working in the garden - it tends to pong, so I usually do this outside.


14. Once oxidised thoroughly to black (see the stages illustrated above), I wash it or tumble it again in warm soapy water, to get the surface clean to the touch for final polishing. I'm not going to detail how I do this stage, as I suspect I do it differently from other people and I'd like it to remain my little secret for now. Suffice it to say, I usually end up with very grubby hands. At this stage I always work by hand to get just the finish I want.

15. When I like the colour, I usually tumble polish it again for a short while, simply to ensure it is properly clean - I wouldn't want my customer to end up with a dirty neck the first time she wears it. Sometimes I tumble, sometimes I wash it by hand and use a baby toothbrush to get in the nooks and crannies.

16. The pendant may be finished, but there's still work to do. I like to make my own clasps and the copper chain I want to hang this pendant on will be closed with a hand crafted hook and loop. I tend to make the clasps in batches ready for use, but both components are made from raw wire. The wire for the hook is initially given a round end, which is hammered and shaped into a lip, the hook and it's connecting loop formed, then hammered some more for stability and both parts are polished and antiqued to match.


17. I then need to photograph the jewellery - in order to publish maybe 7 photos I will take 15 or more to choose from. They need editing, re-sizing, cropping, sharpening and retouching (polishing cloth lint is almost invisible to the eye, but a large resolution image makes them huge on screen). I also need to measure the item and write a description and add these to my various on-line shops. I need to purchase packaging and make wrapping materials - I need to know about postal services and customs forms and maintain records and spreadsheets and submit my own tax return.

Only now is it ready to sell - I hope you can see how much effort and care is involved and just how many skills I need to hone to get this far and how much equipment I must purchase, maintain, power, light, insure and know how to use - from hammers and pliers, to blow torch and goggles to computer and camera. I hope when you understand this, you can appreciate the price tag attached to this piece and feel that it is fair.

My One Pound hanging basket

I've touched before on our lack of gardening budget this summer, after my husband was out of work for a little while this spring. Consequently, I had to make what we had go a little further.

But it's actually been an interesting exercise. I spent a very modest amount on annual 'bedding' plants for pots and baskets and spread it all rather thinly. But I think there has been real value in doing so. In the past, I've crammed pots with a selection of plants and by this time of year, despite feeding and TLC, they've been starting to look weary. I think I have simply over-planted in the past. We've also gained some advantage this year by not taking a summer holiday, just as the garden was looking its most fabulous.

Please click to see a larger view of the photographs.

Despite the very modest outlay on annuals, we have a great showing of colour and the garden is as nice as it has ever been. I kept it very simple - I planted several medium sized terracotta pots I already had with single plants or a cluster of assorted Lobelia plugs. They all look fabulous now - each one is a dome of colour, especially the Lobelia pots. This is very certainly a practice I'll continue in future years, I really like the effect.

I had some successes and some failures. The greatest successes happened to be the minimal spend items and the total failures were unfortunately the most expensive. Another lesson learned. I bought some gorgeous deep red chrysanthemums - they were fabulous specimens and I was full of hope. They were the single most expensive plants I bought. They turned out to be nothing more than expensive snail fodder, as blogged previously. They were totally laid to waste within 48 hours. I also bought some yellow and orange tagetes, as these have given a good showing in previous years. They went the way of the chrysanthemums - but did manage to at least hold out for 72 hours.

But one of my greatest joys has been two trays of tiny little fuchsias I bought - they were in a local DIY store on a BOGOF offer when we went to get some plumbing supplies to repair an emergency leak - so I wasn't even looking for plants. I paid £3.99 for a tray of 10 small plants, with another the same free. Some of the plants were a little weary, so I rummaged through the stacks of trays to find the healthiest looking specimens - so 20 fuchsia plants at 20p each! All 20 plants have positively thrived and have just started to burst into flower this week. They're all supposed to be the same plants, but there is clearly more than one variety in there. I have five additional pots featuring them too.

They looked so tiny that I planted 5 of them in the hanging pot I had retained from last year - it looked somewhat pathetic for a while. But the flowers have burst open this week, with masses of buds now showing.

So the hanging basket by my back door cost me £1 this year - this must be worth a pound of anyone's money!

It was a butterfly sort of day

The weather has been atrocious lately. We had summer for two un-seasonably hot weeks in June. We have returned to the rather more typical English summer weather of continuous rain and grey skies.

But the forecast was for a nice day yesterday - rare that it should occur at a weekend too. So we decided to mark this special occasion with a proper day out. I didn't want to be anywhere there were drunk chavs lighting barbecues with flame throwers or to be serenaded by obnoxious, undisciplined children. I wanted fresh air, trees, peace and quiet. I wanted to hear nothing but the sound of bird song, bees going about their business and the breeze through the trees rustling leaves. I wanted a nice walk to blow out the cobwebs and ideally I wanted some photo opportunities. I wanted somewhere suitable to eat our picnic and warm sun with a cool breeze. So we didn't want much really.

We consulted maps for location, packed the picnic basket and cold box and by the time we left we had everything we needed, except one key factor - the weather wasn't quite as nice as we both hoped and expected. The sky was grey and threatening and the breeze was certainly cooling - a bit too cooling.

But the day gradually improved and in the end, by the time we were walking, it turned out incredibly pleasant. We found ourselves near the Stocks Reservoir in the Forest of Bowland (in north west England for overseas readers) and spent some time walking around the perimeter of the water and found a bird hide on the water's edge and spent an enjoyable time in there with binoculars. We found a nice picnic table in the sun and enjoyed a leisurely lunch al fresco - although I did have to correct Mr Boo from thinking that 'al fresco' meant nekkid.

A view from the bird watching hide we spent some time in.

Part of the path we walked was through some marshland with vegetation growing to chest height - and there were as many insects as I've ever seen in one place, it was positively humming with bees and butterflies. Below are some of my photos from the day - which ended up at Beacon Fell, a lifelong favourite spot of ours. Most of the photographs were taken with my compact camera, I decided against carrying my DSLR as we walked - a sure way to ensure plenty to see - although my little camera, with some coaxing, performed pretty well.

Please click the photos to see a larger, sharper view -
they don't display that well here on the page.

The start of our walk, I love to see old gateposts - no one would bother with that sort of effort these days.

I think these 'butterflies' are possibly large skippers.


There is a cluster of paragliders above the distant hill enjoying the last warm thermals of the day.

A Painted Lady butterfly - they travel all the way from North Africa to fetch up in Lancashire - astounding that something so delicate can make the trip. This was taken with my DSLR in the low evening sun.

The biggest raspberry in the world . . .

. . . or the one that got away!

I've hardly had chance to get out into the garden this week - there has been torrential rain with a stiff breeze, punctuated by short - very short - spells of bright sunshine. No sooner to get I get my clogs on and head out of the door, than the heavens dump on me again.

But this afternoon I got a decent interval to catch up on some outdoor chores when it remained dry and the air was nice and warm.

As blogged previously, I have some raspberry canes which have done better at actually producing fruit this year than in recent years, largely due to the warm sunny spell we had a week or two ago - I think that was the summer of 2009 and is nothing but a distant memory now. So I had a few fruits to pick that I could see through the foliage. After the poor performance of my canes in recent summers, I planted two new pots of a different variety and the fruits they produce are fabulous - they're huge, succulent, sweet and flavoursome.

One pot is in a slightly different position than the others and doesn't seemingly get quite as much full sun and I didn't help it by putting the least mature canes in that spot. Consequently, the fruit is somewhat behind the rest of my crop (I use this term very loosely, a handful a day hardly qualifies) and I haven't yet picked any from that pot.

I haven't grown sweet peas for years and these are my first blooms this year.

They're such a vibrant colour that you would think it was man-made.

But the largest raspberry that was furthest on had reached absolute perfection today - it was perfectly ripe, flawless and absolutely mahoosive. This was perhaps the largest raspberry I've ever seen - absolutely gi-huge - certainly the largest I've grown by a significant margin. It was displaying itself proudly at the front of the bough, with a perfect bright green leaf either side of it and a cluster of smaller paler fruits behind. This needed to be recorded for posterity. Whilst my camera was to hand, the memory card was in the card reader upstairs.

This is not the raspberry in question, I took this a while ago to show the average size of the fruits these new canes produce. My fabulous specimen was at least twice this size.

So I returned a little while later with my card, grabbed the camera and headed outside to record this behemoth specimen of raspberry-dom. I actually did a physical double take. I took a few steps back and re-traced my steps, wondering if it had been on the other pot, not the one I was looking at. My prize raspberry was nowhere to be seen. All that remained was a shiny cream coloured hull and two or three pink drupelets of the fruit remaining.

Stop thief!

Someone had stolen my raspberry! I would have taken a photo of the crime scene, but I was too flabbergasted to think to at the time. I can only assume a bird has taken it, but there's not really anywhere for a bird to perch whilst harvesting the booty and I rarely get birds in that garden because it is so enclosed within steep walls.

So now no one will believe how truly fabulous it was - but I swear - it was . . . . this . . . big!

Thankfully my tomatoes are still right where they should be.
But I shall be organising surveillance as they ripen.