Day 17

Day 17

I have had a very fraught morning.

 

It was about 9am and I was vaguely thinking about getting up, but I was very happy reading in bed. All of a sudden there was a great kerfuffle and some very loud cheeping. Rufus had brought me a baby rabbit for my breakfast. (Did you know baby rabbits don’t squeak, they cheep?)

He laid it very carefully on the floor for me to inspect, but the rabbit had other ideas. It vamoosed under my bed, then under my bedside cupboard, then to a small corner of my room surrounded by furniture and completely inaccessible to humankind.

Rufus followed it, but made no attempt to catch it or harm it. Rather, he was like a sheepdog with a naughty sheep, keeping it penned in the corner until help could arrive.

By this time Tolly and Izzy had arrived and fell in to what looked like a well-rehearsed (surely not) ranked back-up formation.

Impasse.

After about half an hour they got bored and left, leaving me alone with the rabbit. Nothing happened and nothing happened, so eventually I came to terms with the fact I was going to have to take my bedroom to bits to get at it. Not so easy, as the furniture fits together very exactly because of the sloping roof.

The main cupboard needing to be moved has a ferociously heavy marble top on it which had to be lifted off first, and it was piled high with lamps, torches, telephones, boxes and books – the usual bedside detritus. Narrowly avoiding a rupture, I transferred all this garbage to my bed. Then to discover whether I could move the cupboard out without first moving shelving unit next to it . . .

Luckily I was able to edge it out with about a quarter of an inch to spare (my poor grazed knuckles). This was far enough to be able to turn it to one side so that I could edge past it into the corner.

The rabbit was trying unsuccessfully to burrow its way between the shelving unit and the wall. I picked it up carefully with my hand wrapped in a scarf (the last baby rabbit I rescued bit me!) and took it out to the orchard. (I am glad my nightwear is robust). I was followed half way up the garden by the cats. so I am bit worried that they will just bring the rabbit straight back.

The rabbit wasn't damaged but seemed to be paralysed with fear and didn't really want to move off. I had expected it to scoot away but it just sat in the grass and gazed at me.

It is now 11am and about two hours has been spent on this fiasco. Yet the worst is yet to come, because – yuck - it seems that other small beasties have sought refuge in that corner and not come out again, so I must remove their remains.

I am trying to work out how to reconfigure my room so that there aren’t any inaccessible corners, but in a house with sloping floors and ceilings and curvy walls, placing furniture is not straightforward.

 

Today’s book

The Berlin Crossing by Kevin Brophy

This is a terrific book, a Cold War thriller with a twist. The hero, Michael Ritter, is a loyal son of the GDR, party member, distinguished scholar, teacher. In 1989 his world falls apart - his marriage ends, he is sacked from his job at the Gymnasium because of his former party membership, his mother dies and he discovers that his father is not the man named on his birth certificate. His mother's dying words send him to see Pastor Brock, a crippled Lutheran priest who has suffered persecution under the rule of the Communists. From Pastor Brock he finds out enough to follow the paper trail in the Stasi records and in the National Record Office at Kew to find out who his father was and what happened to him.

He also has cause to review both his own loyalty to the GDR and the claims of the West to democratic freedom as he sees government officials on both sides behave with great cruelty and complete disregard for personal freedom.

This book succeeds on so many levels - it is an exciting thriller, a love story and it makes you question the role of government and the blind loyalty of patriotism.

I think it has great relevance today.

 

Music

I feel in the need of something uplifting:

Vivaldi - Gloria - Mustonen - Barrocade - Voces Musicales

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gfgu8kTCa6E

 

Food

Not rabbit pie!

Norwegian Cream

This is one of my favourite puddings

It is an egg custard baked over apricot jam, then topped with whipped cream and grated dark chocolate. The ingredients seem made to go together.

Ingredients for two

·      A good quality apricot jam  (eg Bonne Maman)

·      1 whole egg and 3 yolks, beaten

·      1 tbsp sugar (more if you like a sweet custard, adjust to taste)

·      500ml milk (I use full fat)

·      100g dark chocolate grated

·      300ml double cream

Heat oven 325°F, 160°C (140° fan), gas no. 3

Step 1

Spread the jam over the base of your serving bowl.

Step 2

Make the custard

Whisk the eggs in a small bowl with the sugar.

Heat the milk until just warm, but do not boil.

Pour it onto the egg mixture.

Step 3

Assemble the pudding

Strain the custard into the dish on top of the jam.

Cover with a lid of foil and stand in a baking tin half filled with hot water and bake in the oven for 1 hour or until the custard is set.

Lift out the dish and leave to cool, then chill overnight in the refrigerator.

Whip the cream to soft peaks and spread over the custard.

Sprinkle the cream with the chocolate and serve.

(You can also put a layer of chocolate between the custard and the cream, but it is really difficult to spread the cream cleanly over the chocolate and you can end up with a muddy mess.)

 

Today’s picture

Pieter Breughel the Elder, The Return of the Hunters. 1565. Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna

This is an image of daily life. It shows a winter landscape that recedes to a range of rocky mountains in the distance.  We are looking down into a valley with frozen lakes and a river from the slopes of a mountain village.  Most importantly we can see village life. We can see three hunters and their pack of dogs return from a hunt. They are passing an inn with the bright yellow fire in front of it, that and the houses nearby are just about the only warm colours in the painting.

The middle and background are painted in minute detail. We can see village activities and the snowy countryside so clearly that we can sense the crisp, clear air of a winter’s day. It all looks so real, but it isn’t. Breughel worked in the flat Netherlands so he has painted this from his imagination, using memories of his travels across the Alps to Italy.

There are so many stories in this painting. You can stare at it for ages and see something new every time.