A summer's day, Sunday lunchtime. We are in the garden.

A big bowl of tortilla chips, cherry tomatoes, small and prickly cucumbers which the children grew. There is a plate of ham, a simple salad made from red kidney beans and chopped spring onions with sea salt, black pepper and some olive oil (I have run out of vinegar and lemon juice). There are some small baguettes, strawberries, some quartered oranges and some damsons and plums from scrumping around the neighbourhood. And the children have made a hideous, wonderful teetering chocolate cake, covered in blue icing and hundreds and thousands.

AND YET

That is a pretty picture. Actually, my forehead hurts from the anxiety induced by my constantly warring children, I am tired and I have a million things to do. And, most of all, one of the people I love most in the world has had a severe stroke and, in one day, the life of my family has changed. Just like that. But here's the thing: continue to put food on the table, lay it with mismatched plates and a pot of flowers. Or sit, if you can, amongst the bees and the flowers. Not to stretch yourself when you are already stretched, but to make something solid on which to fall back: a home; a table; good food.

Because, to quote W.H. Auden,

"Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless."

Hello all.

My book, which is based on the content of this blog, is now available to buy. From Blurb is best if you are not in the UK. Just go to www.blurb.com and look at newly published books. You will get a preview of the first 15 pages and see what I am up to! Otherwise, you can order it from me if you are in the UK or from smaller independent shops in Wiltshire. I am starting small, deliberately and happily. And the picture above? It's part of the book's cover, a painting of mine, in oils, which celebrates, quite simply, the kitchen table.

I have a second volume coming out in the spring, plus A Handful Of broken Biscuits, which is my late Father's book - with my additional text.

I'll tell you more about it all later!

Anna.

Le Camping. Just a few somewhat random thoughts.And above: my boys at Newgale Beach, Pembrokeshire. And Pembrokeshire rocks.

Every year, we take a decent tent and put it through its paces on a wild headland somewhere. This summer, extra ropes and, at one point, tying part of the tent to the car were called for. But enough: we are hardy and here are some camping ideas.

When I was a child, we had a fire at the campsite; these days, it seems that only the posher campsites have fire pits. So I will make the assumption that you are in possession of a small camping stove.

1. Have really excellent picnics. Don't make sandwiches for lunches, but take the wherewithal for everyone to do self assembly in situ. For me, this means hunks of cucumber, tortilla wraps, cherry tomatoes and some decent corned beef. Have plenty of pickle to hand, which for us means Branstons and a hot Indian pickle such as mango. There needs to be some kind of cake, I think. As we are usually on the wild and marvellous coast of Pembrokeshire, near my wild and marvellous family, this will mean Welsh Cakes or Bara Brith -- a tea bread. I actually favour this picnic for breakfast, too. In general, make a very large fruit cake before you go and hack into it as you go. A robust fruit cake is good with a piece of apple and cheese, for example.
2. For breakfast, spread a tortilla with peanut buter and grate in some cheddar cheese or some sliced banana. Doesn't sound promising, but I urge you to try it.
3. Dhal. You would think that making a lentil curry for tea would not be possible, but really, if you take a bag of red lentils and follow the masoor dhal (red lentil curry) recipe earlier in this text, then you're away. Simplify it by using a good ready-made curry powder -- such as Bolst's or Rajah.
4. This year, I did my usual tea establishment test. There was a clear winner, which served loose Assam tea in a big speckled teapot with local milk. And good thick mugs. We had also ordered cawl (soup) because, of course, it was raining. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to us, we had also wandered into a scene of domestic discontent. Excellent tea, but a door slammed, out went the owner, his wife stomped upstairs after their morose teenage son and there we were. Muffled crying from upstairs. Money left on table and we repaired to a different establishment for dressed crab -- which consisted of nothing more than the meat from the main body of the crab piled back into the shell with a squeeze of lemon. There were Pembrokeshire potatoes to one side, butter and a salad which contained no iceberg. Hurrah! Actually, I would have been happy with just the crab.
5. Make mulled wine. Sounds nuts but, especially if it's cold, you'll be pleased. For four, just heat up a bottle of some half decent red wine, add a tablespoon of brown sugar, a handful of cloves and some cinnamon quills. This may sound hopelessly decadent, but these whole spices are full of flavour and very cheering. Plus whole spices are far less likely to moulder than the dried ones. Or just add a couple of teaspoons of allspice powder.
6. Super noodles. Just cook egg noodles according to appetite. Put them to one side. Chop up a red chilli -- which I would be doing with the scissors on my Swiss Army knife. Fry it in a little oil (or just sweat it in a little water if you haven't brought oil: if you're in a tent at a festival, bet you haven't!), add the noodles and then add some generous glugs of Kikoman soy sauce. Done. If you are near the sea, you could add a handful of local prawns, bought or caught. AND if you know what you're looking for, a handful of snipped up wild green onions (they look like chives) would be good. Hedgerow food is always rewarding.
7. And if you are cooking with a fire, then get going with silver foil and some local whole fish, baked bananas, potatoes cooked in the ashes or a silver turtle -- the camp fire staple of my husband's Georgia Scout troop. You just take a good weighty hamburger (or mould your own gently from minced beef), then put each burger in silver foil with some thickly-sliced onion and cook until done. Serve in a bun with relish or mustard -- preferably not French's (sorry, U.S.) but Coleman's English.