Dishwasher gone wrong!!

About 2 years ago we had a new kitchen fitted. I say new kitchen as if it were replacing an existing one, but the truth is we didn't previously have one at all. We had bought a house that hadn't been lived in for at least 11 years that we were sure about, with no nod to modernisation having ever been contemplated prior to that. So we made it liveable; installed a bathroom, put some carpets down applied a lick of paint and moved in. We then set about building a large extension...which is an epic story in itself. It is not something to be recommended if you are living in the property whilst all around you is being knocked out, knocked down, builders everywhere, it never seems to stop raining and mud covers all surfaces. I'll reserve the rest for therapy, or possibly a series of blogs, which pretty much amounts to the same thing! Anyway, we had a make-do kitchen in the rear part of the living room. At first it seemed quite romantic. I used our kitchen table as my work surface, and we bought a two ring hob and oven to cook on. This along with a microwave were put onto the kitchen table, and my utensils in boxes all around. A friend commented it was all rather Jamie Oliver but I think she was humouring me. Our son was then just 20 months old, he is now almost seven, you do the maths....suffice to say the romanticsm had well and truly worn off by the time I got my shiny new kitchen. We opted to have everything built in apart from fridge and freezer as I had had those before and they are far too small, so we went for the big American thing which I love. The ovens (I had to have two for reasons too boring to explain - but having been without anything proper for so long I think I went a bit loop the loop), the microwave, the coffee-machine (told you I'd gone loop the loop - I don't even like coffee), and the dishwasher were built in. Big mistake. HUGE! You don't expect them to go wrong do you? We hadn't had the flooring fitted when the kitchen was put in and this was installed later - wooden flooring, this is an important point (it's actually laminate but it's very convincing). A while ago the dishwasher door became a bit difficult to open and close but we ignored it as I think is traditional. Then last night we could ignore it no longer. Hubby had set himself up as domestic goddess yesterday as I was working all day and hadn't had time (actually couldn't be bothered) to pre-prepare a meal (which, heroically, I usually do - martyrdom awaits). So he had made the meal and was continuing his domestic chores in filling up the dishwasher. But then it all went wrong. 'This is not working AT ALL!' he yelled, which demanded my presence urgently. The door wouldn't close AT ALL. He took off the plinth at the bottom, and got down on his belly with a torch. He was down there for hours, most of the time just staring underneath the huge great thing, where he could see that the rear leg (adjustable to account for uneven floors), had come out too far and slipped off the piece of wood that it was on. Because of our wooden flooring we were unable to pull the machine out to refix it. We scratched out heads, I came up with suggestions which were greeted with derision - they were stupid but I felt obliged to contribute. So, I left him to it as I was a bit bored by now and I honestly couldn't see anything else for it but to take out the entire kitchen which my head couldn't contemplate at 11pm. Just when I was thinking of sneeking off to bed, I heard pots and pans being rattled, then I heard the sound of a dishwasher door being closed, and in came hubby very triumphantly to announce that it was sorted. Somehow he had managed to stablise and level the dishwasher without having to remove it. Dishwasher works fine and the door is no longer difficult to close. What a genius hubby is. Just hoping it won't go wrong again as it really can't be taken out without removing the whole kitchen as far as I can see. Mental note to self - fitted applicances are the devils work....do not go there.

Fish Feeding at Eccy Delph

Eccy Delph is a wonderful name for a wonderful place near to where we live.  It's a disused quarry as far as I know which has been 'developed' (although that may give the wrong impression) into a scuba diving centre.  Now, I have been scuba diving once, about 25 years or so ago in the South of France when I worked there.  It was OK, but I can't say I've ever felt the urge to repeat the experience.  Not in the South of France (dull and boring) and certainly not in the UK (toooo cold), but an awful lot of people seem to get an enormous amount of pleasure from this hobby.  Whenever you go to Eccy Delph there is someone  diving there and the owners have planted interesting objects for the divers to explore - a plane, a car and other such curiosities!  It seems to be quite a sociable sport surprisingly and I must say, I would feel quite tempted to have a go, were it not for my pathological fear of cold water. 

There's a log cabin with a cafe, and a shop selling scuba equipment.  These are both quite rustic and basic affairs. I've never tried the cafe but I've heard that the person who runs it seems to have used Basil Fawlty as his role model. 

You can go into the office and buy a bag of fish food, which is what we do at Eccy Delph given that we are not divers.  The fish are amazing.  I'm not sure what breed (is that right for fish?) of fish they are, they could be trout, I'm not sure, but they are about that size.  They come right to the little concrete slope where the divers can enter the water, eager for food and untroubled by the possibility that they could end up on our plate.  The water is absolutely clear, and watching the fish is hypnotising.  As you throw some feed into the water they scrabble to get some, sometimes jumping out of the water altogether. Kids love it and it is a very pleasant way to spend an hour or two. 

Further development is underway, but being situated where it is in a rural location, and being what it is, I feel it will never become too developed or over commercialised.  I hope not anyway. (apologies for lack of photographs again, took them on my phone and am yet to find the cable so I can download them)

Didn't we have a lovely day....?

Whilst it was the Easter Holidays and hubby and I were both off work we had our usual optimistic plans about how we were going to while away the long sunny days.  The weather, however, predictably, scuppered our plans. It was typically rubbish - pouring rain, gloomy, leaden skies, freezing cold, so all our plans about going away camping in our shiny new tent have had to be put on hold till the day when the sun shines, we are not actually at work/school, and we can hurriedly pile everything into our new trailer (yet to be bought) and do an emegency few days away.  Still, being indoors with children for any length of time, when the PS3 is restricted (I was very tempted to backtrack on this), there's nothing on TV, and anyway that is also restricted (what was I thinking?)is a little frazzling on the nerves; we tried doing indoor kitchen experiements (not altogether successfully), we did papier mache, we read stories, we played games, but my little darling was beginning to act more like a caged tiger.  It's time to release the beast and let him run free, but that flippin weather.... Why don't we live in the South of France, life would be so much simpler. 

In a valiant attempt to ignore the dark omenous skies and predictably gloom filled weather forecast, we decided that come what may, we would have A Day Out.  Where to go?  Now, we are a family that likes a Day Out, so we have visited anywhere within easy driving distance time and again. So we pore over the internet and our Great Britain books to try to find somewhere different not too far away.  We end up plumping for the Lake District as so often we do.  I don't know why we go through the torture of trying to think of somewhere new to be honest.  We love the Lake District, it is not very far from where we live, so we decided that it would be northwards on the M6 that we would go.  Instead of our usual haunts - the South Lakes area around Windermere, Bowness, Ambleside and Hawkshead - we decided to go to Grange over Sands and Cartmel.  We have visited these towns many times before, I had friends who lived in Cartmel and Grange years ago, but we haven't been for a while.  We left the house as the heavens opened, it was pouring, and continued in this vein until we were almost there.  I could have been happier.  When we arrived and parked up in Grange though, a tiny miracle happened. The sun was shining, it wasn't too cold and suddenly my world and my mood seemed a lot brighter.  The weather has a very profound effect on my mood I've noticed, so Husband, if  you read this, you know what to do if you want a constantly happy and less grumpy wife - South of France and emigrate are the words to keep in mind. 

Anyway, I felt a fabulous sense of being away from it all, in beautiful surroundings, and best of all, the caged tiger was in his glory as we released him onto the good people of Grange - running, running, always running, laughing and happy.  He's never this happy on the PS3 I'm pleased to note.

We walked down a very steep hill from the car park to the town, the views from here are fabulous and in the sun, we could well have been in the south of France!  The walk took us through the Community Orchard. What a fabulous idea. A Community Orchard.  Anyone seemingly can come in and pick an apple from several British varieties. More towns and villages should have one of these. Orchards sound so very British don't they? Conjuring up visions of big country houses, countryside, picnics, and lashings of ginger beer, as Enid Blyton would have it, with huge baskets and plaid rugs, wonderful.  An idealised vision of the British countryside and why not?

My son saw an ice-cream shop and pestered and pestered. So, husband and I got ourselves the most emornous vanilla slice from a wonderful bake shop next door - apparantly one of Rick Stein's Food Heroes,  son got his ice-cream and we crossed the road to the small  ornamental park lake where we sat in beautiful sunshine gorging ourselves on our sweet treats. We then walked along the coastal path - son and hubby ran, of course.  The views across Morecambe Bay are quite spectacular and the sun on my face, the away-from-the-rat-race feeling was just so relaxing and energising.  Until we realised our time on the carpark was up and we had to revert to rushing mode for a little while as we climbed back up the hill.

From here we decided to go to Cartmel via a little detour to the village of Flookborough.  Flookborough isn't the picture postcard village you imagine when thinking of the Lake District.  It is just a little village, with pub, square and residents, not tourists.  We went there because a good few years ago we almost bought a little barn on the high street to renovate and we wanted to see what had happened to it.  Having seen 'our barn', we drove to Cartmel. 

Cartmel is a picturesque Lakeland village with a village square surrounded by shops, a couple of pubs and the shop from where the famous Cartmel Sticky Toffee pudding hails.  I think it was this very pudding that really put Cartmel on the map and set it on the road to being what it is today - a bit chi-chi, a village somewhat overtaken by stockbroker-belt types for weekends in the country, with up-market cheese and artisan bread shops.  The pubs are gastro-pubs, there is a Michelin Star restaurant in L'Enclume, and Range Rovers and Audis abound.  Cartmel also has a racecourse on the outskirts of the village which hosts a bi-annual meet - a real country racing affair and well worth a visit - bring a picnic, and have a great day parked on the course, watch a bit of racing, maybe a little flutter in the fresh, invigorating Lakeland air.  Cartmel has a special atmosphere and the magnificent Priory - seemingly way too large for the tiny village - makes it quite magical.  We had a drink sitting outside a pub in the glorious sunshine, we had a wander down the riverbank, we bought cheese and bread from the afore-mentioned shops but were too late for the Sticky Toffee pudding shop more's the pity.  We ate in the pub and felt thoroughly content with our day.  We returned home tired but a great outdoors, fresh air tired, and happy.  A lovely day out. (The reason it has taken me so long to get this post published is because I wanted to include some photographs, but I have been unable to download - took them on my phone as forgot my camera and can't find cable...)