This is my hat tip to the day that is in it. When I was a child Halloween celebrations consisted of a dish of mixed nuts, extra fruit, Tea Brack with a ring in it, and these pin-wheel biscuits.
Chocolate Orange Pinwheels
Preheat the oven to 200ºC
100g butter, chilled and cubed
225g plain flour
150g caster sugar
1 egg, size 3, beaten
2 teaspoons finely grated orange rind
1 tablespoon cocoa powder
Sieve the flout into a large bowl and rub in the butter with your fingertips until the mixture looks like fine breadcrumbs. Stir in the sugar and egg and mix to form a dough. Transfer to a lightly floured surface and knead until smooth.
Divide the dough in two. Knead the orange rind into one half and the cocoa into the other. Wrap separately in greaseproof paper or film wrap and chill in the fridge for 30 minutes.
On a lightly floured surface roll out the orange dough in a rectangle 9 x 11 inches approx. Roll the chocolate dough to the same size and place on top of the orange dough. Roll both together from the long edge to form a sausage. Wrap and chill again for a further 30 minutes – this makes it easier to slice the pinwheels.
Lightly grease two baking sheets and cut the dough into 24 circles. Place on the prepared baking sheets. Bake for 10-12 minutes until pale golden. Transfer to a cooling rack and leave until cold (if you can! 😉 ).
My bus journey ended at Merrion Square, and since my day was my own, I dandered through streets that I had not set foot in for over thirty years. Lifting my gaze from Merrion Square down Mount Street, my eye rested on the building facing me.
It was always known to me as ‘The Pepper Canister’. The proper title is of course St. Stephen’s Church. It was the last of a series of Georgian Churches built by the Church of Ireland.
View from Upper Mount Street
Turning right into into Herbert Street brought a little surprise. The street looked different.
The building above, No. 30 Herbert Street has recently been refurbished and available for lease. A large hoarding surrounded the Horse Chestnut tree to the left of the main entrance. The tree was in a railed off and locked paved garden. Behind the tree was a garden seat that I would love to explore or sit on. There was no plaque or indication as to the artist. It took me quite some time and searching to discover the artist behind the piece. It was well worth the effort.
So for the third week in a row I feature the work of the same Sculptor.
Chestnut Chair – bronze
Sculptor John Coll
“Chestnut Chair”: a two meter bronze bench for the entrance to No.30, Herbert Street, Dublin, commissioned by Treasury Holdings Limited, 1998.
Now I wouldn’t mind that in my back garden!
The name above the door says Ewert PLC.
It is more a closing than an opening. I took the photo back in March 2009. It was in the vicinity of the Ulster Hall, Belfast. Perhaps the building has had a new lease of life by now at the hands of the developers.
I do hope they kept that gate!
I’m trying. Yes I know you find me trying most of the time; so I tried hard, very hard, to come up with a topic to test the Loose Blogging Consortium today!
We do not own the world about us.
Springtime in Limerick
On the Liffey at Lucan in June
September skies from my back door
Hoar frost at Christmas in the Midlands
We are privileged to lease a small part of it for our time.
If we focused properly on our fellow man, the environment and our daily actions, there would be no need for the following two signs that I came across during my recent walkabouts in Dublin.
Respect the Community
We have signs like this one in Northern Ireland too.
If we really focused on caring; then we might follow ideas like this.
Thanks to Will for bringing it to my attention.
My phone just buzzed.
Caller: “I wonder if Andrew is about?”
Me: “Well, You will not find him here… unless he is hiding under my bed!”
Caller: “I’m sorry to disturb you”.
With that the caller hung up!
I bet you are glad you don’t phone my house!
An elderly Italian man who lived on the outskirts of Palermo Italy went to the local church for confession. When the priest slid open the panel in the confessional, the man said:
“Father.. During World War II, a beautiful Jewish woman from our neighbourhood knocked urgently on my door and asked me to hide her from the Nazis. So I hid her in my attic.”
The priest replied: “That was a wonderful thing you did, and you have no need to confess that.
“There is more to tell, Father. She started to repay me with sexual favours. This happened several times a week, and sometimes twice on Sundays.”
The priest said, “That was a long time ago and by doing what you did, you placed the two of you in great danger, but two people under those circumstances can easily succumb to the weakness of the flesh. However, if you are truly sorry for your actions, you are indeed forgiven.”
“Thank you, Father. That’s a load off my mind. I do have one more question.”
“And what is that?” asked the priest.
“Should I tell her the war is over?”
Thanks to ECP for this weeks offering.
I’m just an old fashioned girl with an old fashioned mind
Not sophisticated, I’m the sweet and simple kind.
I want an old fashioned house, with an old fashioned fence
And an old fashioned millionaire.
A week or two would be enough.
I’m not greedy! 😉
It was time to come out from hiding once again, so I took myself over the hills and far away.
Well, not quite across the land but just enough to drive through heavy hanging mist. As the car climbed effortlessly to the top of a hill, I could not see beyond the end of my nose. The temperature had dropped overnight and we ware back in fog-light territory for another winter. 🙁
Once over the crest of the hill the scene changed, the sky cleared, and I could see green fields for miles around me. It was not a day to dawdle about, I had an appointment with a Toyboy.
An hour of teasing and banter while the scissors go snip, snip, does this girl’s heart good.
Now with my thatch trimmed, the old head is lighter and I am ready for anything in the weeks to come.
Stuart and his team
‘WIN AN iPAD’
To qualify all you need to do is spend £30.00 and book an appointment for January or February.
My haircut is not far off £30.00, and I will be back again before the end of the year and again six weeks later so that takes care of the appointment. It was only a matter of making my little purchase of a product that I use on a regular basis.
You know what they say…. ‘If you are not in, you cannot win!’
That is my ticket sitting on the corner of the frame, so fingers, toes and everything else crossed for now.
What do you mean?
Of course you can keep everything crossed for me until Christmas! 😀
Preheat Oven to 180ºC
50g caster sugar
150g self-raising flour
2 teaspoons ground ginger
5 pieces of stem ginger, drained & finely chopped
I use the food processor for these.
Whizz the butter and sugar for 1 minute then add the sieved flour and ground ginger and half the chopped stem ginger and whizz again to form a ball.
Place teaspoon sized balls of the dough, well spaced apart, on greased baking sheets. Flatten each biscuit with a wet fork, the place a piece of the remaining chopped ginger on top.
Bake for 15-20 minutes until pale golden. Leave the biscuits to cool for a few minutes and then transfer to a cooling rack until cold.
Store in an airtight tin.
Patrick Kavanagh ~ Bronze
Sculptor John Coll
Patrick Kavanagh was the son of a cobbler and farmer and he grew up in Inniskeen, County Monaghan. Many of his poems were autobiographical. In 1936 his first volume of poems, “Ploughman and Other Poems”, was published. He died in 1967 and was buried in Inniskeen.
Don’t sit on the hat! 😉
Dublin, became his beloved second home and he is immortalized according to his wishes: “O commemorate me with no hero-courageous/ Tomb — just a canal-bank seat for the passer-by.”
View from Baggot Street Bridge
So you will find him at one with the tranquil surroundings of Dublin’s Grand Canal, between Baggot Street and Leeson Street. peacefully seated on a tree-shaded bench, the poet surveys the dark, slow-moving water—as he did in life—and there’s plenty of room beside him for those who wish to join in the meditation.
View from the bench, looking towards Leeson Street
On Raglan Road is a well-known Irish song from a poem written by Patrick Kavanagh. This version includes the Poets own voice.