The Gluten-Free Author in praise of...Chewy flapjacks and jacket spuds

 When I first discovered I was intolerant of gluten, and went out for a meal there was often very little on a menu suitable for me, let alone anyone coeliac.

Jacket potatoes or gammon. Rarely could you have your gammon with chips in those days. But you could have

*drum roll*

Jacket Potatoes.

Luckily I liked and still do, jacket potatoes. As long as there's no cheese. 

(Pic:Pinterest)

But, apart from with gammon (egg or pineapple included) always eating them got a bit boring. 

You'd be offered baked beans, (usually off the kid's menu), tuna mayo, coleslaw, and coronation chicken. Or the dreaded cheese.

Nowadays, you still get the potatoes, but menus have expanded. And I hope will continue to do so. Thank you pubs, cafes and restaurants.

Even what I have with them at home is different. I'm not a pasta fan so a jacket tattie is a good alternative.

And in case you're wondering what about flapjacks, I'm coming to them now.

I can't eat oats unless they're gluten free, so I tend to make my own chewy flapjacks. Sorry no photos they never last long enough. It's not just me that eats them. It's a really easy recipe and you can make them chewy or crunch. Sometimes its a toss up which I end with.

However, the lovely husband and I eat them regardless.

Such an easy recipe:

150g each of butter, sugar and syrup, melted together

250-350g of gluten free oats, added when rest is melted

put into flapjack tins or on a tray

cook for 45-50 mins 150deg C (fan 130deg C)

gas mark 2

eat and enjoy,

love Raven xxx 

Profound? Er...

 Not that long ago, I was asked what was the most profound book I'd ever read. I must admit the question threw me for a bit. Over the years, there's been a lot of books that have affected me in different ways. 

It's no secret I love to read.  It was instilled in me at a very early age. 

First of all being read to by my parents and aunt. 

 Mitten the Kitten anyone?

(photo from the net)

Then as I got older the Arthur Ransome, Swallows and Amazon books were a great favourite. First read to me by my dad and then as I got older read by myself. 

(photo from net)

Oh how I wished I was sailing with them. 

But profound?

Hmm not really.

I really sat and thought about it in a different way. Have any books really affected me? Made me think hard. Wonder how on earth people managed?

Then I realised that yes, of course some had and not necessarily in the same way.

Over the years what I want to read and enjoy reading have changed, but some stories remain as firm favourites. I can reread them and it's like revisiting a friend. Seeing what they are up to, and yes often discovering something I'd missed on an earlier visit.

The Miss Read books about village life in the nineteen forties and  fifties, where as a village schoolteacher, her water was from a pump, a lot of people still used an outside 'dirt privy', and free school meals hadn't been thought of, made m ask a lot of questions. My grandparents had a toilet 'down the yard' but they flushed. However I remember going to a friends grandparents house in the country and that was a plank of wood under a hole in a shed in the yard, and a bucket full of soil for you to throw down the hole when you'd 'been.'

A real eye opener for a townie like me.

Nice memories.

Georgette Heyer—installed a love of some not all regency stories. 

Colin Dexter—who was my latin teacher back in the day—for crime stories...but not too gory. I'm a wuss.

The books that affected me in different ways were, firstly, 

The Musicians of Auschwitz, by Fania Fenelon. The story of the orchestra in Auschwitz.

Bravery.

Harrowing and thought provoking. I'll let you judge what you think about it.

 Then,

The Shetland Bus by David Howarth.  The story of Norwegians in WW2 who went to Shetland and with their boats set up a communication and rescue route to Norway. Bravery again.

I think they both resonated because as a child of the fifties, WW2 wasn't that distant.

Of course over my considerable years, there's been a lot of books I've enjoyed and equally a lot I haven't. It doesn't mean that the ones that weren't for me were bad books. Just not my cup of tea.

There's a lot more authors I enjoy but you'd be asleep before I'd listed them all. And I'm always ready to discover someone else.

And really that's the joy or reading (and indeed writing) 

Sometimes making you think, other times letting you sink into warmth and happy ever after.

On that note,

enjoy your reading,

love Raven xxx

i've got to be honest

 and say, 

I had absolutely no idea what to write in my blog today...

We went for a walk by the sea before it got busy. It was cloudy and breezy and I actually had trousers and a sweatshirt on. My legs wondered what that had hit (or covered) them.

I hoped while I watched the sailing dinghies, the 'pirate ship' on its pleasure trip around a bit of the bay, the speedboat ditto and the once quiet beach get busier and busier, that I'd get an idea about what to write. 

Nope.

So the only thing to say, is yesterday at another seaside town we watched people who had—

didn't see anyone catch anything, but at least I could add this pic from pinterest, and hope I get an idea for next week.

Meanwhile,

thanks for putting up with me and,

happy reading,

love Raven xxx

Names, names and er what?

 Isn't it funny how some names make you laugh, some sigh and some make you wonder...'Hmm, why is it called that?'

(source:Pinterest)

I'm not taking about surnames, but street names and place names.

So many are straightforward and describe why they are there and what happened in them or by them.

Like London Road, Beach Avenue, Main St, High St, or Church Lane.

In Beverley in the East Riding of Yorkshire, you have Wednesday Market and Saturday Market. And yes you've got it. One square holds a market on a Wednesday—thats a very small affair—and a much larger market is held in Saturday Market, well, on Saturdays.

The road between them is called Toll Gavel. Where the tolls on the main road to Hull were collected.

In York you have Whip Ma Whop Ma Gate

There's a fair few descriptions of what this means...either this or that.. or...? Up to you really.

In Newcastle I was fascinated by Two Ball Lonnen, originally a lane with two balls on its gatepost.

You get snickets, ginnels, lanes, alley, vennels or ten-foots, depending what part of the country you live in. 

Fleshers Vennel and Cow Vennel in Perth always made me wonder, but I reckon they're self explanatory really.

So many names describing so many things.

And that's before you even look at place names.

There's  Great Snoring, and Little Snoring

(source Wikipedia)

And Emmotland

And mustn't forget Beer, Droop, and the Wallops

In Scotland there's also Dollar, Dull and Ae. I could go on and on, but I won't. 

But it does give me, as a writer, great scope for naming characters.

Happy Reading,

love Raven xxx

A bit of a mixing week

 I think the word of the week has to be... 

mixed.

Defined variously in my on-line dictionary as—

blend, confused, socialised, involved and so on. A lot of things it can mean and I a fair few of them fit my week.

For a start off, I mixed two days up. 

Thought Wednesday was Thursday and I'd missed an appointment. (I hadn't) 

Mixed my cake mixture up—that worked, and resulted in a cake and some scones.

Mixed up two letters in a word and had fire not fare with regards to paying on a train in a WIP.

Mixed up my heroes names and my Regency Earl became a twenty first century surfer named... yes, you guessed it, Earl. Which as he was originally called Stan, and I made that mistake after 20K, was a bit discombobulating. That meant a quick search and replace.

Almost but caught myself just in time, mixing up ounces and grams on my scales.

Last but not lest, mixed up the weight of some wool I was knitting with and ended up pulling out a good six inches! 

Next week, please let the word of the week be something different!

Have a good week, 

take care,

and of course, happy reading,

love Raven xxx