Dig for Victory

I found this old World War Two 'Dig for Victory' film on YouTube and thought it fascinating. I even learnt a gardening tip or two.

Dining Room Tour

 The last time I posted pictures of our dining room we were using it as a study.  It's still a study, but we use it for other purposes as well.

As you can see, the sideboard that used to be in the lounge room is now in the dining room.  We moved the sideboard to make way for our new couches.  

The blue arm chair has also been moved from the lounge room.  That sunny corner is a lovely place to read.

All the furniture that you can see in this picture came to us from my husband's grandparents.  The sideboard, china cabinet and dining setting were made by Rosenstengel in the 1930s. (You can see a similar dining table to ours in this picture, from the State Library of Queensland archives.)

 Moving slightly to the left, you can see the fireplace, which is on the other side of the fireplace in yesterday's post.  The row of books on the mantel is a set of the Modern World Encyclopaedia from 1935.  I bought the set in an op. shop.

 Turning around you will notice that we have put a desk behind the door - a great way to keep the inevitable office clutter out of sight of the hall.

 Finally, a closer look at the china cabinet.  I love that picture of my youngest at 8 months crawling towards the camera with his tongue gleefully poking out.

 

Living Room Tour - Updated

Although I have posted pictures of our front living room a few times in the past couple of years, I haven't given a detailed tour since just after we moved in, in March 2010.  Well, today's the day!

Late in 2011 we finally bought a couple of couches for this room, which meant moving the existing furniture around.  This is now a calm, pleasant room to read quietly or listen to music, especially on hot, Adelaide summer days.

The couch under the window is a sofa-bed -- very useful as we don't have a guest room.

 The coffee table was given to me recently by a friend who was decluttering before moving interstate.  It belonged to her grandmother.  It's a little small for the space but suits our other old furniture and serves its purpose well.

We put our stereo on an old traymobile that belonged to my husband's grandparents.  A family member sent us the traymobile last year and we didn't have a spot or use for it until we thought of the stereo.

 Looking from the other direction, you can see the fireplace.  We still haven't bought a mirror or picture to hang over the fireplace -- all in good time!

 The piano is still tucked behind the door that leads to the hallway.

That's the end of today's tour.  Tomorrow I'll share some recent photos of our dining room.

Saving Jars

I remember from my childhood that my mother would save jars which she would use to store the marmalade and lemon butter she made each winter from our orange and lemon trees.

Similarly, my grandmother collected jars for marmalade and lemon butter.  She would also send the grandchildren to the local park to harvest wild plums that she would turn into plum jam.

some of my collection

Collecting used jars is certainly the cheapest way to provide packaging for home-made jams, pickles, sauces and other produce.  They are also useful for storing pantry items, especially the larger ones such as pickle jars.  My only problem is that I can't seem to throw any jars out, so I have shelves of them waiting to be used.

Before saving any jars it is important to check that there are no cracks or chips in the glass and that the seal in the lid hasn't been damaged.  I soak the jars to remove the labels.

I sterilise the jars before using them by washing them in hot, soapy water, rinsing them, standing them upside down to dry, then putting them on an oven tray in a slow oven until they are completely dry.

I tip the hot jam (or other preserve) into the hot jars and screw the lids on immediately.  A seal should form in the lids which will cause them to indent slightly in the middle.  If no seal forms the jar should be put in the fridge and used fairly quickly.

Do you save jars too?  What do you use them for?

Plum Jam

Last weekend I harvested the plums on the satsuma plum tree that I planted in the winter of 2009.  Although the plums were smaller than those on a more mature tree, they were too heavy for the thin branches of such a young tree.  Some of the poor little branches were nearly touching the ground.

When I weighed the fruit it came to just under 1 1/2 kilos, which was a perfect amount for making a few jars of plum jam.

This recipe comes from The Australian Women's Weekly Cookbook (1970).  It is given as written in the cookbook apart from the measurements, where I have given metric as well as the original imperial.  This quantity made about 5 1/2 jars.

Plum Jam 

3lb (1.4 kg) plums 

3/4 pint (450 ml) water 

2 1/2 lb (1.3 kg) sugar 

juice half lemon 

Wash plums, cut in half, remove stones. Place in large saucepan with the water and 3/4lb sugar. Cook gently until plums are tender, stirring occasionally. Add remaining sugar, stir over low heat until sugar dissolves; add lemon juice. Boil rapidly until jam jells when tested on a cold saucer, (approximately 1 hour). Pour into hot sterilised jars, seal.

How Necessary is an Electric Mixer?

Last weekend my 15 year old Sunbeam Mixmaster died half way through beating up a cake batter.

I am now left wondering whether I should replace it.  Most cakes are made easily enough with a wooden spoon, a rotary beater, or a whisk.  The only things that I could have trouble mixing by hand are meringues and pavlovas, which require a lot of beating over a long period of time.

I admit that I love the look of those big Kitchen Aid mixers with lots of attachments, but they are hundreds of dollars and definitely a 'want' rather than a 'need'.  I also like some of the vintage-looking models, such as this one by Sunbeam.

My daughter thinks I should buy a hand-held electric mixer.  She points out that they can be used with any bowl, unlike the bench-top models.

At the moment I am planning to go without an electric mixer for a while to see how I manage.

What do you think?

Is an electric mixer necessary for someone who does a lot of baking?  What model do you recommend?

Five Years

Amazingly,  this Christmas marks five years years since my father died.  Christmas Eve 2011 is eight years to the day since he found out he had inoperable lung cancer.

To recognise this anniversary I am reprinting the article below, which I published on this blog back in 2007.

My Father's Gift

My father was diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer on Christmas Eve 2003. He had not smoked in 40 years. For three years he fought with chemotherapy and immense, quiet courage.

In late September 2006 he learned that he had bone cancer also.

Two weeks before Christmas last year (2006), my husband suggested we drive to Sydney for Christmas week. My parents' home is a couple of hours north of Sydney at the beach. We knew accommodation would be difficult to find for a family of six so close to Christmas, which falls in the Australian summer, yet amazingly our prayers were answered on my second phone call, and for about half what we expected to pay. The flat we rented was 100 metres from the beach and a short walk from my parents' house.

Despite having seen him in October, I was shocked by the deterioration in Dad's condition. He was so frail, so thin. His skin felt scaly as I stroked his hand in the white hospital ward. His head was cold when I kissed it. I visited several times over the week; we made small talk as he slipped in and out of sleep.

Dad was a highly intelligent man, a doctor and a great thinker. He would only take panadol, knowing the effect morphine would have on his mind.

Sometimes he became serious; his mind was active while his body destroyed itself. He said he could not understand why things had gone wrong; he had done everything the doctors had asked. He said, short of a miracle, my mother would be a widow within three weeks.

Dad had always defined himself as an agnostic. A rational man, he found a literal resurrection impossible to grasp. Yet towards the end he requested chaplains and sought prayer.

On our last day on the coast B and I visited the hospital with all the children. After a time, Dad suggested they go outside; I could stay and assist him with his meal.

Dad struggled to speak. He said he had talked to my brothers and my mother and I was the last. He said he wanted to be "on a straight track" with everyone and asked my forgiveness for any harm he had ever done me. He was so sorry, so sad about the past. He blamed himself for things I had long forgotten. I was not an easy child, and our hot-headed personalities had often clashed. We talked, and I reassured him as best as I could that everything was all right. Crying silently, I told him how much I loved him. Three or four days later Dad became confused and distressed. On January 21 he died.

I learnt more in those minutes about love and grace, compassion, repentance and forgiveness than in a lifetime of sermons, lectures and books.

So many people die suddenly; so many people die hugging grievances. My father, visibly struggling to channel his thoughts and knowing I was returning home to Melbourne, that this was the last time, gave me, and indeed, all of us, the gift of peace