On my walk to catch the bus home

Kicked my way through leaves across the park and through the woods.

wood path

 Raised my gaze skyward for light through leaves.

 Followed the burn down to the loch and marvelled at green cockles...

...and more light through leaves

October Daughters

Two of my daughters were born in October, a few days short of eighteen years apart.

Up at the top of the garden where Middle Daughter sat caring for the fire, we watched the darkening sky while food for a joint birthday celebration was being prepared in the house, tasty layers of minced lamb with chopped onion, tomato and aubergine, all wrapped in foil to be cooked on the fire.

By the time the food was cooked and we were eating these lamb burgers inside rolls it was quite dark. I enjoyed my roll and shall try the same mixture again but maybe cooked in the house. We don't do enough cooking on open fires to be expert at it. Perhaps we should practise more!

Pear and chocolate pudding cake followed. This was a roaring success. I shall make it again with some tweaks to the topping. The chocolate I used this time was dairy free for the sake of Middle Daughter's partner and, even with  dollop of vegetable fat spread in place of the butter I usually use and a good squirt of golden syrup, the high concentration of cocoa solids still made it set quite hard. The cake itself was perfect in its variety of textures from gooey centre to just crisp edges, with the pears giving an interesting–and delicious–taste and texture contrast.

We tried to light cake candles but a wind had sprung up and blew them out straight away.

When the older generation (Toad and me) took ourselves to bed the October daughters and their friends spent another hour or so first by the bonfire and then in the warm kitchen.

 Pear and apple pudding without its topping (which can be cream, ice-cream or custard rather than (or as well as!) chocolate if you like) and then, below, with eyes!

pear eyes

I found the recipe on the website baldhiker.com. It is by someone called Sally Laker.

Cat neighbours

 

This is Max. He lives down the hill but our garden is part of his territory. He has a large black dot on his white bib, one orange eye, and one yellow. Today he decided to lounge nonchalantly on my white stone stump for long enough that I could take a photo. I've seen him there before so I reckon it's one of his lookout posts.

Our neighbours' once thin and feral but now quite chubby cat, Missy, seems to thinks Max is a cheeky young upstart. There have been some spectacular chases as she runs him down the hill.

Fungi were few

Fungal finds were few this morning on my woodland welly wander, though I did spot a brown birch bolete masquerading as a hot cross bun and some toodler-sized jelly babies.

I also found a small but deep paddling pool fed by its own small waterfall and with plenty of scope for exploration near it. I've 'bookmarked' the place in my mind, for the benefit of visiting grandsons in due course, as 'directly above the larches' that grow at the bottom of the field below the wood. The larches are still very green. I love their late autumn colour change.

I thought the line of stones looked almost as if there had been an ancient wall there. At the lip of the pool the water was well over my feet. In the centre the water would have come over the tops of my wellies.

Autumn leaves and fungi

The early autumn has been good for fungi both in the garden and beyond in the woodland above. I loved the fact that a beech leaf from the wood up the hill had fallen against this small mushroom and that a ray of sunshine caught the glorious colour just when I happened to be passing that part of the garden.

Light through leaves is always lovely

Here are some other favourite fungal finds this month and last:


Gotta love (but not eat!) a mushroom that turns blue when you cut it!

Lurid Bolete/Suillelus luridus