Happy Yuletide

 

At 9.47 GMT this evening it will have been dark, here in Cockermouth, for about six hours. All across the northern hemisphere, it is the longest night of the year, as the sun reaches its lowest point, directly over The tropic of Capricorn. It also marks the beginning of Yuletide, twelve days of convivial merriment and good natured mischief, to acknowledge the onset of winter and look forward to the coming of longer days and shorter nights.

It is also the day when I traditionally decorate my abode with lights and herbage from the hedgerows. The holly and the ivy have been used since pagan times to ward off evil spirits, which is why we put a wreath containing these plants upon the front door.

Ivy, in long strands, when wrapped around a string of lights, makes a highly effective decoration. It is also cheaper, and more environmentally friendly, than shop bought chains imported from the far east.

Similarly, small conifer sprigs and cones can be used for simple, yet effective, centrepieces.

And finally, where would we be without the mistletoe? Mistletoe features in many winter mythologies, but the practice of kissing under it probably only dates from the 18^th century. Below stairs, servants were permitted one kiss for each berry plucked from the plant.

Happy Yuletide,

Steve

Messengermire Wood

 

Just to the north of Bassenthwaite lake lies Messengermire Wood. Who the messenger was, and whether he got sucked into the mire, is a tale I've yet to uncover, but there's a story lurking behind the name somewhere. It's certainly very damp in places, after the recent rains, but oh, what a glorious aroma as you disturb the fallen leaves.

The track that leads into the wood is bounded on both sides by ancient hedgerow. It's a foragers paradise. Plenty of holly and ivy for the festive decorations next month (cheaper, nicer, and much more fun to put up, than imported tat from the far east). The buckthorn is still laden with sloes (just about time to steep your sloe gin, if you haven't already done so). There are crab apples too. Apart from the traditional crab apple jelly, you can steep these in vodka, the same way you make sloe gin, or they're the perfect size for making toffee apples. A nice treat for bonfire night, this weekend?

But let us continue into the wood. We'll avoid the mire by sticking to the higher ground. There are mushrooms galore in here, but the one I want to introduce you to today, is Chicken-of-the-Woods, because it's a nice, easy to identify, tasty mushroom. Look for it growing out of dead, or dying, trees, particularly oak, for which it has a fondness. This one is past its best, and beginning to fade. When young, they are a rich golden orange. As you can see, they form overlapping fans. There are many similar looking 'shrooms, but look underneath. There are no gills. It has tubes instead. The only similar fungus, with tubes instead of gills, that I know of, is Dyer's Polypore. However, this sticks pretty well exclusively to pine trees, which Chicken-of-the-Woods rarely does. If you do happen to get the wrong one, Dyer's Polypore isn't poisonous, but tastes horrible, apparently. One last thing about Chicken-of-the-Woods: you can't eat it raw. It must be thoroughly cooked. It's very good, sautéed in butter. As with all foraging, don't stuff yourself full of it on first go, you may have a personal adverse reaction to it. Try a little first and see how you go.

And one final foraging note. We didn't find any Sweet Chestnut trees in Messengermire, but Ishbel collected a nice basket full, from our local tree, whilst taking Mattie out for her early morning walk the other day. Did you know, Mattie has her own page? Mattie's Diary

All the best,

Steve

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