Freda Lightfoot's Blog, page 21
November 14, 2010
The Olive Harvest - November 2010
I live in Almeria, Spain and we're fortunate enough to have a small olive grove of 28 trees. We've just started the harvest for this year and the first day's pick resulted in 208 kilos which produced 33 kilos of extra virgin olive oil. There are plenty more olives still to be picked, so we're expecting a bumper year.
Friends came round to help and the weather was perfect: bright and sunny, temperatures around 22 degrees with not a scrap of wind. We'd experienced quite a bit of wind in the days preceding and were worried the olives would all be on the ground, but no, it has proved to be an excellent crop. We spread nets beneath the tree to catch any that drop-off, collected our bucket and set to work. We might have to knock with sticks to shake down the olives from the high branches, but mainly we pick by hand, raking them off with our fingers.
The fun part is that we get to climb some of the old trees, as we used to do when we were children, although a ladder is generally safer.
Then after a morning's hard work we all sat down to a good lunch of chilli and rice, followed by apple and rubarb crumble and several bottles of wine to wash it down.
After a rest we went back for another few hours of picking.
By late afternoon David, with two of the men, loaded the crop of olives into the trailer, then went off to the press that same day in order to get extra virgin olive oil.
David unloaded the olives at the press
The cooperativa press at Lubrin.
It was a fun day and resulted in five litres of olive oil for everyone who helped us pick, plus plenty left over for us to sell later.
Table olives
There are various types of olive:mazanillas; picuales; de agua; andacebuches, which is the wild olive. Its fruit is smaller and is used as a root stock for grafting the more delicate modern olives on to. It grows slowly but will give you a tree that will survive the worst excesses of heat and drought and cold. We have several of these trees in our grove as well as the more modern variety. Apparently the wild olive also makes good walking sticks.
Some people think that there are just two types of olives: green and black. Not so. Green olives for eating are picked first, in October, but you can't eat them direct from the tree. You steep them in spring water with no chlorine, changing it every day, stirring the fruit a little, for 3 or 4 weeks. They will still taste bitter but not so bad. Next you make up a seven per cent brine solution – 70 grams of salt to a litre of water and place the olives in the solution. You can store them this way for as long as you like, but to finish them off for eating, you rinse the salt away in a dozen or so changes of water and then pack the rinsed olives into jars. You can add garlic or herbs such as thyme, fennel or oregano, if you wish. Top up with olive oil and leave for a week – then start eating.
Friends came round to help and the weather was perfect: bright and sunny, temperatures around 22 degrees with not a scrap of wind. We'd experienced quite a bit of wind in the days preceding and were worried the olives would all be on the ground, but no, it has proved to be an excellent crop. We spread nets beneath the tree to catch any that drop-off, collected our bucket and set to work. We might have to knock with sticks to shake down the olives from the high branches, but mainly we pick by hand, raking them off with our fingers.
The fun part is that we get to climb some of the old trees, as we used to do when we were children, although a ladder is generally safer.
Then after a morning's hard work we all sat down to a good lunch of chilli and rice, followed by apple and rubarb crumble and several bottles of wine to wash it down.
After a rest we went back for another few hours of picking.
By late afternoon David, with two of the men, loaded the crop of olives into the trailer, then went off to the press that same day in order to get extra virgin olive oil.
David unloaded the olives at the press
The cooperativa press at Lubrin.It was a fun day and resulted in five litres of olive oil for everyone who helped us pick, plus plenty left over for us to sell later.
Table olives
There are various types of olive:mazanillas; picuales; de agua; andacebuches, which is the wild olive. Its fruit is smaller and is used as a root stock for grafting the more delicate modern olives on to. It grows slowly but will give you a tree that will survive the worst excesses of heat and drought and cold. We have several of these trees in our grove as well as the more modern variety. Apparently the wild olive also makes good walking sticks.
Some people think that there are just two types of olives: green and black. Not so. Green olives for eating are picked first, in October, but you can't eat them direct from the tree. You steep them in spring water with no chlorine, changing it every day, stirring the fruit a little, for 3 or 4 weeks. They will still taste bitter but not so bad. Next you make up a seven per cent brine solution – 70 grams of salt to a litre of water and place the olives in the solution. You can store them this way for as long as you like, but to finish them off for eating, you rinse the salt away in a dozen or so changes of water and then pack the rinsed olives into jars. You can add garlic or herbs such as thyme, fennel or oregano, if you wish. Top up with olive oil and leave for a week – then start eating.
November 2, 2010
Christmas Prize Draw
There are two prizes to be given away this Christmas.
A signed paperback copy of Hostage Queen andA signed hardback copy of the sequel Reluctant Queen
Sign in here to enter
You are agreeing to receive my regular e-newsletter with news of future books, events I'm attending, chat about life in Spain, writing and gossip about all things to do with books, as well as competitions, giveaways and prize draws.
For competition rules and to see previous winners please visit my website.
A signed paperback copy of Hostage Queen andA signed hardback copy of the sequel Reluctant Queen
Sign in here to enter
You are agreeing to receive my regular e-newsletter with news of future books, events I'm attending, chat about life in Spain, writing and gossip about all things to do with books, as well as competitions, giveaways and prize draws.
For competition rules and to see previous winners please visit my website.
October 28, 2010
Angels at War
My latest title, out this month in hardback, is the sequel to House of Angels, although the story will stand alone. Again this book is set in the Lake District, partly in the beautiful Kentmere Valley around the time of World War I, although it is such a quiet corner of England I doubt it has changed much since. The nearest village is Staveley, situated between Kendal and Windermere and the hills can offer some of the best walking the Lakes. Here is picture to tempt you to visit.
Two years have passed since Livia and her sisters suffered at the hands of their brutal father and Livia is set to marry the handsome and caring Jack Flint while her sisters are contentedly living at Todd Farm. Yet she dreams of bringing back to life the neglected drapery business which was left to her when her father died. But is she prepared to jeopardise the love she shares with Jack to achieve her wish?
Racked with guilt over the tragic death of her sister Maggie, she promises never to let anyone down again and to do something worthwhile with her life. But standing in her way is the wealthy and determined Matthew Grayson, who has been appointed to oversee the restoration of the business. His infuriating stubbornness clashes with Livia's tenacity and the pair get off to a bad start. But as her problems with Jack worsen, Livia finds it increasingly difficult to resist his charms. Despite all the emotional turmoil, she is also resolute in her support for the Suffragette Movement which puts further strain on her relationship with Jack. With the extra pressures of her sisters' problems, is it possible for Livia to regain control of her life?
Two years have passed since Livia and her sisters suffered at the hands of their brutal father and Livia is set to marry the handsome and caring Jack Flint while her sisters are contentedly living at Todd Farm. Yet she dreams of bringing back to life the neglected drapery business which was left to her when her father died. But is she prepared to jeopardise the love she shares with Jack to achieve her wish?
Racked with guilt over the tragic death of her sister Maggie, she promises never to let anyone down again and to do something worthwhile with her life. But standing in her way is the wealthy and determined Matthew Grayson, who has been appointed to oversee the restoration of the business. His infuriating stubbornness clashes with Livia's tenacity and the pair get off to a bad start. But as her problems with Jack worsen, Livia finds it increasingly difficult to resist his charms. Despite all the emotional turmoil, she is also resolute in her support for the Suffragette Movement which puts further strain on her relationship with Jack. With the extra pressures of her sisters' problems, is it possible for Livia to regain control of her life?
October 9, 2010
The Kindle
Christmas has come early as Santa's little helper has brought us a Kindle, and I love it. The black letters against a white background are easy to read, even in bright sunlight. It's light to carry and fits easily into my handbag. Smartly clad in its crimson leather cover it feels like a book and I soon got used to clicking to turn the page. The next page comes up instantly, or you can easily flick back if you missed something. You can place bookmarks so that it automatically finds where you're up to next time you open it, add notes if you wish, or highlight and save quotes. Useful if you are using a book for research purposes. And you can do searches of certain words or topics, or look up the meaning of a word in a dictionary as you read.
I've no intention of giving up reading ordinary print books, but love the Kindle as an addition to my bookaholic lifestyle. I can see me reading even more books, not less.
Review:
Loved this book. Sensitively and charmingly written it moves seamlessly from the present to the past as Mel Pentreath researches the lives of past artists for the book she is writing. The love story in the present keeps us guessing right to the end as to which of her suitors Mel will choose. Pearl's story in the past is much more poignant, but equally delightful. The descriptions of Cornwall were both accurate and emotive, and once having lived there, I easily found myself transported back. The garden of the title, bearing a striking resemblance to Heligan, became a character in its own right. A delicious, relaxing romance with a happy ending.
I've no intention of giving up reading ordinary print books, but love the Kindle as an addition to my bookaholic lifestyle. I can see me reading even more books, not less.
Review:
Loved this book. Sensitively and charmingly written it moves seamlessly from the present to the past as Mel Pentreath researches the lives of past artists for the book she is writing. The love story in the present keeps us guessing right to the end as to which of her suitors Mel will choose. Pearl's story in the past is much more poignant, but equally delightful. The descriptions of Cornwall were both accurate and emotive, and once having lived there, I easily found myself transported back. The garden of the title, bearing a striking resemblance to Heligan, became a character in its own right. A delicious, relaxing romance with a happy ending.
September 29, 2010
Gabrielle d'Estrées
History tells us that when Gabrielle de Estrées was sixteen years old she was so pretty and already in possession of a good figure, that at her mother's instigation she was sold as mistress, to Henri III. The deal was negotiated through a third party, Montigny, and a sum of six thousand crowns was agreed as payment to compensate her mother, Madame d'Estrees, a most dreadful and unfeeling mother if ever there was one, for the loss of her daughter. Montigny, however, only remitted her two-thirds of that amount, retaining the balance for himself, and when this came to the king's ears he lost all favour
She was considered to be a beauty, perfectly enchanting, and the courtiers waxed lyrical on the subject.
'Blue eyes so brilliant as to dazzle one; a complexion of the composition of the Graces but in which the lilies surpassed the roses unless it were animated by some deep feeling… a mouth on which gaiety and love reposed, and which was perfectly furnished.'
'she had fair hair like fine gold, caught up in a mass, or slightly crisped above the forehead…'
'the nose straight and regular, the mouth small, smiling and purplish, the cast of physiognomy engaging and tender. A charm was spread over every outline. Her eyes were blue, quick, soft and clear. She was wholly feminine in her tastes, her ambitions, and even her defects.'
Bellegarde was so besotted he foolishly boasted about her to his master, Henry of Navarre, who later was crowned Henry IV of France.
And the rest, as they say, was history…
Her life certainly makes a good story, and I couldn't resist telling it. Henry means to have her, but Gabrielle desperately longs to choose her own lover for once, to marry and be respectable, wishing she hadn't foolishly prevaricated over which one to take.
Meanwhile, Henry's Queen, Marguerite de Navarre, is determined not to agree to a divorce until she has a just financial settlement. But then there are other ways of getting rid of an inconvenient wife…
Here is a short extract from The Reluctant Queen at the moment Henry meets Gabrielle.
Gabrielle d'Estrées cried out with pleasure when she heard the clatter of hooves in the courtyard and saw that it was her lover. She sprang up from the window seat where she and her sister Diane had been engaged in needlework, delighted to have a reason to abandon it as she loathed sewing.
'Oh, it is Bellegarde. He sent no message that he was coming today, and he has brought company with him.
Quick, Diane, go and offer the gentlemen refreshments while I change. I wish to look my best. He is constantly begging me to marry him, and this may well be the day that I accept.' She giggled. 'Or it may not, who knows?'
Diane smiled, giving her sister a quick hug. 'Don't tease him too much, precious. You would hate to lose him. Wear the blue, it matches your eyes. I'll take the gentlemen out into the garden, then later I'll keep his companion occupied while you and Bellegarde slip away for a private little tête a tête.'
Left alone, Gabrielle yanked on the bell pull to summon her maid, deeply regretting the lack of notice. She would like to have bathed and scented herself properly. As it was, she must simply do the best she could in the time available.
'Fetch the blue gown,' she cried, the moment the hapless girl appeared. 'Quick, we must hurry.' Papa might accuse her of being light-minded, but she was much sharper than people gave her credit for. Diane was right. She couldn't keep Bellegarde, or Longueville of whom she was also fond, dallying indefinitely. It was vitally important that she capture a rich, elegant and handsome husband. But it was such fun choosing she was really in no hurry.
Ten minutes later, with her golden hair brushed till it shone and left to hang loose, falling in rippling waves to her waist, Gabrielle walked gracefully down the stairs and out into the garden where her father and sisters were already in conversation with their guests. Her mother was not at home, so Diane was acting as hostess. Inside her cool exterior Gabrielle was excited and happy that her lover had come to see her unannounced, seeming to indicate that he could hardly bear to be apart from her. As she approached the little party she caught her sister Juliette's eye, realized she was trying to tell her something but couldn't think what it might be.
Gabrielle dropped a flirtatious curtsey to Bellegarde, casting a sideways glance up at him through her lashes. 'What a delightful surprise, my lord. I bid you welcome.'
'You must first welcome the King. We were out riding and His Majesty was in need of refreshment.'
Gabrielle started. They had all been aware that the King was in the vicinity engaged in sporadic fighting, but never for a moment had Gabrielle expected him to call upon them. 'I beg pardon, Your Majesty. Pray forgive my rudeness.'
She sank into a deep curtsey, kissed the hand that was held out to her, realizing as she did so what Juliette had been trying to impart to her by that warning glance. So this was the new king? Gabrielle was not particularly impressed. He seemed old, his late thirties she believed, and did not possess one iota of Bellegarde's elegance and style. His linen was soiled, and, as he stepped forward to raise her from the deep curtsey, she had great difficulty in not screwing up her nose against the stink of horse sweat that emanated from his person. Clearly the King did not believe in bathing or scenting himself, as did her handsome lover. Her pretty shoulders shuddered at the lot of any woman obliged to sleep with this king.
Two maids hurried forward at that moment with trays of refreshment: wine and wafers, coffee and cakes. Gabrielle welcomed the interruption, which gave her a moment to collect herself and distance herself from the King. 'Which would you prefer, Sire, coffee or wine?' she asked, giving him one of her enchanting smiles.
Henry was entranced, struck speechless like a gawky schoolboy. Bellegarde had been absolutely correct. Never had he seen such a vision of loveliness. Her luxuriant fair hair, those dazzling blue eyes, and a complexion of lilies and roses. Her nose was divine, her lips moist and full, and when they parted slightly to smile at him, revealed perfect white teeth. He was surely in heaven and this was an angel.
The Reluctant Queen published by Severn House 30 September.
ISBN 978-0727869500
She was considered to be a beauty, perfectly enchanting, and the courtiers waxed lyrical on the subject.
'Blue eyes so brilliant as to dazzle one; a complexion of the composition of the Graces but in which the lilies surpassed the roses unless it were animated by some deep feeling… a mouth on which gaiety and love reposed, and which was perfectly furnished.''she had fair hair like fine gold, caught up in a mass, or slightly crisped above the forehead…'
'the nose straight and regular, the mouth small, smiling and purplish, the cast of physiognomy engaging and tender. A charm was spread over every outline. Her eyes were blue, quick, soft and clear. She was wholly feminine in her tastes, her ambitions, and even her defects.'
Bellegarde was so besotted he foolishly boasted about her to his master, Henry of Navarre, who later was crowned Henry IV of France.
And the rest, as they say, was history…
Her life certainly makes a good story, and I couldn't resist telling it. Henry means to have her, but Gabrielle desperately longs to choose her own lover for once, to marry and be respectable, wishing she hadn't foolishly prevaricated over which one to take.
Meanwhile, Henry's Queen, Marguerite de Navarre, is determined not to agree to a divorce until she has a just financial settlement. But then there are other ways of getting rid of an inconvenient wife…
Here is a short extract from The Reluctant Queen at the moment Henry meets Gabrielle.
Gabrielle d'Estrées cried out with pleasure when she heard the clatter of hooves in the courtyard and saw that it was her lover. She sprang up from the window seat where she and her sister Diane had been engaged in needlework, delighted to have a reason to abandon it as she loathed sewing.
'Oh, it is Bellegarde. He sent no message that he was coming today, and he has brought company with him.
Quick, Diane, go and offer the gentlemen refreshments while I change. I wish to look my best. He is constantly begging me to marry him, and this may well be the day that I accept.' She giggled. 'Or it may not, who knows?'
Diane smiled, giving her sister a quick hug. 'Don't tease him too much, precious. You would hate to lose him. Wear the blue, it matches your eyes. I'll take the gentlemen out into the garden, then later I'll keep his companion occupied while you and Bellegarde slip away for a private little tête a tête.'
Left alone, Gabrielle yanked on the bell pull to summon her maid, deeply regretting the lack of notice. She would like to have bathed and scented herself properly. As it was, she must simply do the best she could in the time available.
'Fetch the blue gown,' she cried, the moment the hapless girl appeared. 'Quick, we must hurry.' Papa might accuse her of being light-minded, but she was much sharper than people gave her credit for. Diane was right. She couldn't keep Bellegarde, or Longueville of whom she was also fond, dallying indefinitely. It was vitally important that she capture a rich, elegant and handsome husband. But it was such fun choosing she was really in no hurry.
Ten minutes later, with her golden hair brushed till it shone and left to hang loose, falling in rippling waves to her waist, Gabrielle walked gracefully down the stairs and out into the garden where her father and sisters were already in conversation with their guests. Her mother was not at home, so Diane was acting as hostess. Inside her cool exterior Gabrielle was excited and happy that her lover had come to see her unannounced, seeming to indicate that he could hardly bear to be apart from her. As she approached the little party she caught her sister Juliette's eye, realized she was trying to tell her something but couldn't think what it might be.
Gabrielle dropped a flirtatious curtsey to Bellegarde, casting a sideways glance up at him through her lashes. 'What a delightful surprise, my lord. I bid you welcome.'
'You must first welcome the King. We were out riding and His Majesty was in need of refreshment.'
Gabrielle started. They had all been aware that the King was in the vicinity engaged in sporadic fighting, but never for a moment had Gabrielle expected him to call upon them. 'I beg pardon, Your Majesty. Pray forgive my rudeness.'
She sank into a deep curtsey, kissed the hand that was held out to her, realizing as she did so what Juliette had been trying to impart to her by that warning glance. So this was the new king? Gabrielle was not particularly impressed. He seemed old, his late thirties she believed, and did not possess one iota of Bellegarde's elegance and style. His linen was soiled, and, as he stepped forward to raise her from the deep curtsey, she had great difficulty in not screwing up her nose against the stink of horse sweat that emanated from his person. Clearly the King did not believe in bathing or scenting himself, as did her handsome lover. Her pretty shoulders shuddered at the lot of any woman obliged to sleep with this king.
Two maids hurried forward at that moment with trays of refreshment: wine and wafers, coffee and cakes. Gabrielle welcomed the interruption, which gave her a moment to collect herself and distance herself from the King. 'Which would you prefer, Sire, coffee or wine?' she asked, giving him one of her enchanting smiles.
Henry was entranced, struck speechless like a gawky schoolboy. Bellegarde had been absolutely correct. Never had he seen such a vision of loveliness. Her luxuriant fair hair, those dazzling blue eyes, and a complexion of lilies and roses. Her nose was divine, her lips moist and full, and when they parted slightly to smile at him, revealed perfect white teeth. He was surely in heaven and this was an angel.
The Reluctant Queen published by Severn House 30 September.
ISBN 978-0727869500
September 2, 2010
A competition for my new book
This month I'm doing a giveaway operated by Goodreads of three copies of my new historical novel The Reluctant Queen coming out on September 30, published by Severn House. This is the sequel to Hostage Queen which came out in May and has done really well. The paperback for that book is due 1 December.Click the link below and enter your name for a chance to win a signed hardback copy of Reluctant Queen.
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/8428759-the-reluctant-queen
Offer ends 30 September.
Sixte...
August 23, 2010
The Favourite Child
The idea for this book first came about when I was working on my novel Manchester Pride in which one of my characters needed guidance on contraception to stop yet another baby coming. I was telling a writer friend how I'd discovered in my research that there had been a Mothers' Clinic over a pie shop in Salford in the twenties.
'I know,' she said. 'My mother opened it.'
So began my mission to write this gift of a story. Ursula's mother was Charis Frankenburg, and unlike my heroine, Isabella Ash...
'I know,' she said. 'My mother opened it.'
So began my mission to write this gift of a story. Ursula's mother was Charis Frankenburg, and unlike my heroine, Isabella Ash...
August 19, 2010
Poem
The following Latin verse is attributed to Barclaius, author of "Argenis" on MARGUERITE DE VALOIS, QUEEN OF NAVARRE.
Dear native land, and you, proud castles, say
Where grandsire, father, and three brothers lay,
Who each, in turn, the crown imperial wore,
Me will you own, your daughter whom you bore?
Me, once your greatest boast and chiefest pride,
By Bourbon and Lorraine, when sought a bride;
Now widowed wife, a queen without a throne,
Midst rocks and mountains wander I alone.
Nor yet hath Fortune ve...
Dear native land, and you, proud castles, say
Where grandsire, father, and three brothers lay,
Who each, in turn, the crown imperial wore,
Me will you own, your daughter whom you bore?
Me, once your greatest boast and chiefest pride,
By Bourbon and Lorraine, when sought a bride;
Now widowed wife, a queen without a throne,
Midst rocks and mountains wander I alone.
Nor yet hath Fortune ve...
July 31, 2010
Self publishing ebooks on Kindle
Ebooks, they say, are the coming thing, and according to a recent survey it is women who are using them most. We already know that women read more than men (no comment on that one) so it shouldn't really be surprising, even though one might expect the take up to be greater among techie young men. The young, of course, will adopt it anyway, as a normal progression from the mobile phone, iplayers, ipods, and the rest.
These are exciting times for writers, for however you package it, people still...
These are exciting times for writers, for however you package it, people still...
Freda Lightfoot's Blog
- Freda Lightfoot's profile
- 210 followers
Freda Lightfoot isn't a Goodreads Author
(yet),
but they
do have a blog,
so here are some recent posts imported from
their feed.
