Canon SX 60 HS ... a great handbag camera

I've been on the look-out for a new handbag camera: one that I could carry around with me all the time just on the off-chance that I'd see something stunning to photograph. As with all such purchases I've had a lot of fun reading up on all the contenders, and choosing the one that I thought would be just right for my handbag.

And here it is, my choice, the Canon SX60 HS, newly released this autumn:

It arrived yesterday at Talk-a-Lot Towers and I'm already very impressed. I wanted something with a zoom lens that wouldn't weigh me down: something nifty and light for when I'm out and about. And my first impressions are that this little baby ticks all the boxes. I'm a bit blind so I love, love, love its great big LCD monitor at the back where I can see what I'm shooting really clearly. I love the zoom lens that takes me up to 65x zoom. And I love how I don't need a shopping trolley to lug it around with me. It's a super versatile, one size fits all situations sort of camera.

The only slight snagaroo is that my principal model, the Wonder Dog, is getting a bit fed up with having his photo taken. Grrrr ... .

First it was the black dog on a black carpet challenge, taken with no flash:

 Even though the light was far from stellar, and I'd got that black on black thing going on, the shot still came out clearly and properly exposed.

Then we had everything else in between, because, as all you serious shooters out there will know, black dogs are difficult chaps to photograph. They've got this annoying tendency to appear as indecipherable black smudges in photographs. As such they make the perfect model for testing a new camera on. And as you can see the Wonder Dog has processed perfectly.

Next we headed off to Walpole Park, our local park here in Ealing, where we had a merry old time snapping the autumn tints. 

The camera weighs only 672 g according to my scales, and it's small enough to sit comfortably in my out-stretched hand, so I'm loving its super portability.

The big LCD monitor was an immediate hit. You can twist it out and turn it around until you get it exactly how you like it, which could be useful if you have the sun at an awkward angle. The view-finder on the other hand distorted the colours leaving everything looking bleached-out and a bit weird. This is, however, only a minor niggle as I'm so in love with that great BIG LCD monitor screen. 

One other feature that struck me as a bit odd is that the built in flash does not pop up and flash unless you raise it manually. No biggie, but it would have been more seamless if this had popped up as and when the camera detected low light levels.

The accuracy of the colour is first class.

It was a stunning afternoon; the first day with half-decent light for ages. And I think the little Canon did a pretty good job of capturing all that autumn glory.

If you know someone who's hoping that Santa might bring them a handbag camera, then the Canon SX 60 HS is a worthy contender for their Christmas stocking.

All the best and happy snapping, 

Bonny x

The very best roast vegetable soup

Oh the weather outside is frightful

But the soup is so delightful

And since we've got no place to go

Let is snow, let it snow, let is snow.

OK, so I may have messed around with the lyrics, but the sentiment is totally authentic. When the weather outside is grey and miserable there's nothing to beat the comfort factor of a nice bowl of home-made soup.  And, for me, coming from Ireland, any kind of homemade soup has to be thickened with barley grains to give it substance. That's how my mum and my grandma used to make soup when I was a little girl, and that's how I like it.

These days I add a mixture of barley, split peas and lentils. Sometimes I buy a packet of mixed grains that have been put together specifically for adding to soups or stews, and I love the variety of the textures and flavours that they add.

This recipe maximises the flavour of the winter vegetables by roasting them slowly in the oven. The cumin and turmeric add extra warmth and depth of flavour.

Anyway if you'd like to try your hand at a spot of soup-making here's what you'll need for 6 servings.

Ingredients:

150 g (5 1/4 oz) barley soup grain mix
2 litres (3 1/2 pints) of good vegetable stock
1 medium sized butternut squash
2 large parsnips
4 medium sized carrots
2 medium sized brown onions
3 tablespoonfuls of chopped freshly cut sage leaves
2 heaped teaspoonfuls of ground cumin
1 level teaspoonful of turmeric
bacon lardons for serving: I fry 100 g (3 1/2 oz) per person and drain them on some kitchen paper to remove excess oil before sprinkling them into the soup
grated cheese (Cheddar or Emmental work well) for serving

Method

1. Peel all the vegetables and chop them into chunks. Place on a roasting tray and toss with some olive oil and the chopped sage leaves. Season with salt and black pepper, and cook in a pre-heated oven at 200º C (390º F or Gas Mark 6)  for 45 minutes. Turn them over once during this period so that they cook evenly.

2. Whilst the vegetables are roasting, cook the barley mix in the vegetable stock until the grains are cooked through.

3. When the vegetables have cooked blitz them in the food processor and add to the vegetable stock/ mixed grains. Be sure and add all those wonderful rich juices that will coat the bottom of the roasting pan to the soup mix as they'll be full of added flavour. Stir well, add the spices and heat through until it reaches your ideal temperature for serving.

4. Fry the bacon lardons and coarsely grate some cheese. Serve the soup with the bacon lardons and grated cheese on top.

Delicious! It's pretty substantial so you'll need very little extra to fill your people up at supper time.

Enjoy with a nice glass of Rioja and good company!

All the best for now,

Bonny x

A slow(ish) week in November ... delicately seasoned with a half-knitted sock

I've been really hard pushed to get things done this week. I've been distracted. All week.

You see it started with a sock. Yes, I'm serious: a single, lonely, little sock!  My old gran used to be the sock-knitting queen, but the sad thing was that none of us paid too much attention to how she did it. We all enjoyed her fabulous, snuggly footwear, which she used to love knitting in front of the television as she watched her favourite programmes, but no one ever sat down and said Gran, how on earth do you turn the yarn into these wonderful socks?

She passed away 10 years' ago. We all miss her tonnes, and her legacy of lovely, woolly socks now have holes in them. This week I've been desperately trying to figure out how she did it. I started off with half an idea of how to make it work, but I've been battling to get it right - all week - like a determined little terrier who just won't give up. And, as a result, nothing else has got done. Oops!

I thought I'd have a go with a smallish pair for Emi's smallish feet. I figured out how to turn the heel without any difficulty but I've had a bit of a struggle to get those toes into place. This, ta-dah, is where I've got to:

Maybe I could just leave them like that. How do toeless socks grab you as a concept? Inbuilt ventilation: the perfect antidote to smelly feet. I mean we've got fingerless gloves, which people who mess around doing stuff outdoors love to wear, so why not toeless socks that leave your toes free for ... well ... um ... <searches for ideas> ... scratching your legs with? No? OK, OK, you're right: that's a ship that may be hard to launch.

I even bought a pattern book, but it was written in such an infuriatingly, unhelpful way that it had me turning to the author's bio page to tell her photo that her instructions were worse than hopeless every time I've tried to use it. Yes, I was that demented. What is it with people who do technical things and then can't explain them to us normal mortals? I had a physics teacher like that once. He used to drive us all mental, walking us round in circles and tying us up in knots with the most complicated, long-winded explanations imaginable for concepts that could have been explained simply in a few sentences. Luckily my dad's good at maths and physics so I used to figure it out at home with his help. At the end of year we said that we'd passed our physics exams despite our teachers's input!

Happily I did manage to finish off my  Sparkly Party Wrap on Monday before I fell victim to my sock obsession.

And I've been busy out in the garden with Maxi, the Wonder Dog, at my heels. We've been doing a much needed autumn tidy-up. Well I have, and the Wonder Dog has been digging holes - everywhere - and hasn't really helped at all. I don't know what's got into him, but he's keen as mustard on digging holes these days. He has also got a sock fetish (I think there's something in the water over here), which means that, in addition to messy paw prints all over my floors, I also have the added delight of a mud monster for a pooch and the daily excitement of unearthing badly buried socks beneath my rose bushes. Happy Days!

And talking or roses, as I've mentioned in the past (check out my how to make pot pourri and more about how to make pot pourri posts)  I'm an enthusiastic maker of pot pourri. This week I've bought a lovely new rose that promises to be perfect for this purpose. Here's what I'm hoping it will look like come the springtime:

Isn't it a beauty?

It's called Munstead Wood by the wonderful David Austin. It's named after Gertrude Jekyll's private garden at Munstead Wood, her home designed by her chum, Edwin Lutyens. To be very honest I was sold on the name and the association with the great doyenne of the Arts and Crafts Movement, but once I'd got over my swoon the rest of the details sounded pretty spot on. It's a wonderful dark, dark red. Light coloured roses tend to discolour as they dry. It's also a vigorous repeat flowerer with a strong, heavy olde worlde fragrance. Tick, tick, tick: it's got all the attributes of a perfect pot pourri rose.

Inside I've been scattering around poinsettias. My local flower shop took a delivery of these cheeky little chaps earlier in the week, and I just couldn't walk home without them. Now my challenge is to not kill them before Christmas. I'm a bit rubbish with indoor plants, so that's a big challenge for me - maybe even bigger than getting those toes to go in the right place in Emi's socks <sigh!>.

Emi's busy practising for his Christmas play at school. It's about the Christmas Day ceasefire back in 1914. He's Tommy number 5 from somewhere down the line, and we've had our usual, seasonal dash to get him kitted out for his dress rehearsals.

He's also discovered a how-to guide for making the best paper aeroplane in the world, by the chap who holds the world record for flying a paper aeroplane further than anyone else has ever done. No, I didn't know that particular record category existed either. Anyway, this has given young Emi a focus on all things aeronautical this week, which has kept him busy with his Lego bricks and some torn-out pages from his maths homework book.

If you've got a little person at home who might be interested in this paper aeroplane technology you can find the link for the how-to guide here: Paper aeroplanes by the Paper Aeroplane Guy. I was very sceptical about his boasts, and his special construction tools, but his design does work well. The broad wings get a lot of lift, especially if you stand on top of the stairs and launch it down into the hallway.

Anyway, those toes are calling out to me and I know that they're not going to knit themselves any time soon, so I'll wish you all the very best for a truly lovely weekend,

Bonny x

As shared on image-in-ing

Perfect sparkly wrap to wear with your favourite LBD at parties ...

Christmas is just around the corner ... and I've got the perfect sparkly wrap to jazz up your favourite Little Black Dress. It looks great over a jumper during the daytime, or if you need to cover your hair to keep your ears warm it's as light as gossamer so it won't mess up your hairstyle and leave you with helmet hair. 

As with all my other patterns it's super easy peasy to make. All you need to know how to do is cast on, knit, purl and cast off again. It's also a relatively quick project - even though it's worked in fingering 2 ply lacy wool, which usually takes an age to go anywhere.

I used a wonderful yarn that I'd bought on special discount at the great Ally Pally Woolfest. It's called Simonetta, and it's by Louisa Harding. It's a mix of mohair, metallic polyester and nylon, and it knits up like a dream. The only little itsy bitsy problem that I encountered is that it's difficult to rip out if you make a mistake. It's got this awful habit of knotting up. Luckily this pattern is so easy that a total beginner should be able to make it without needing to do any ripping out - no sweat!

I started off with my favourite wrap, which is a total Goldilocks piece: just the right size in every dimension to do the job, and then I calculated how many stitches I'd need to produce something the same size. My perfect wrap was 72cm wide and 180 cm long, so those were my target dimensions for this pattern. You can check your tension, measure your own favourite wrap and adjust the number of stitches/ rows to fashion it so that it's just perfect for you.

Anyway enough waffling about how easy it is! Here's what you'll need and here's how to make it:

Materials

5, 50g balls 2 ply fingering lacy wool - Simonetta by Louisa Harding is pretty good if you've got it to hand

1 pair of size 4 mm needles
1 pair of size 8 mm needles

Pattern

Using the 4mm needles cast on 240 stitches.

Knit 14 rows of plain knit stitch. i.e. each and every one of those 14 rows is a plain knit row.

Row 15: Knit 2 stitches together from start to finish. You should finish this row with 120 stitches

These first few rows knitted with twice the number of stitches as we're going to use for the body of the wrap produce a small frill at the end, which hangs naturally into loose pleats. It's a simple technique to add a not-too-fussy embellishment. We'll do the same in reverse when we get to the other end. You can sort of see what I'm on about in the photo below.

Row 16: Knit row from first to last stitch using 4 mm needles.

Row 17: Purl row from first to last stitch, using one of the 8 mm needles to purl onto.

From here on in we're going to use these alternating needle sizes. This is a really simple way to achieve an open lacy weave. The self-patterning effect of the sparkle in the wool adds another not-too-fussy detail to what will be the perfect party wrap. To my way of thinking it's chic and understated.

Row 18: Knit row from first to large stitch, knitting onto the 4 mm needle.

Keep repeating Rows 17 and 18, alternating between the 4 mm and 8 mm needles until your work measures about 5 cm short of the target length I wanted mine to be 180 cm so I kept going with my knit and purl rows until it measured 175 cm. finishing on a knit row.

Next row: Knit into front and back of each stitch to the end of the row, using 4 mm needle. You should end this row with 240 stitches.

Knit 14 rows of plain knit stitch using only 4 mm needles to produce another frill at this end of your wrap to match the one you made when you cast on.

Cast off and enjoy wearing your new creation!

Bonny x

A busy week in November ...

Whaow! Where is the time going? I can't believe how close we're getting to the end of another year.

We had a lovely day here in London for Remembrance Sunday: quiet and still with a clear blue sky. We took ourselves off to Chiswick House in the afternoon for a wander through some autumn glory.

The Ionic Temple, Chiswick House, London

Chiswick House is one of our all-time favourite haunts. I've written about it in the springtime here. I've written about its wonderful camellia festival here, and about its kitchen garden here. It really is a very special place. They say that this garden is where the English Landscape Movement started. They say that it was the inspiration for New York's Central Park. At the risk of being a bore: it's a very special garden, and, as they welcome little folk on wheels and any kind of well-behaved canine, it ticks all the boxes for us.

The Lake, Chiswick House, London

They've even got a terrific coffee shop where Mr B and I enjoyed some cappuccinos outside on a sun-drenched terrace whilst the little person abandoned his wheels and rushed off to play on the nearby swings with lots of other little people.

The Lake, Chiswick House, London

There's been lots of stuff in the papers and on the news this week about the poppies at the Tower of London. Maxi, Emi and I went to see them back in August when we went for a walk around the Tower of London. The Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red installation has truly gripped the popular imagination. I'm so glad we were able to see it when there weren't quite so many people around. 

Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red, Tower of London, August 2014

Emi has been thinking a lot about the Wars and about my great uncles, his great great uncles who fought in the Second World War. In his own little homage to the D-Day Landings he built some Lego tanks, of which he is very proud. Lovely colours: perfect camouflage for ... the toy box.

A little boy's homage to the D-Day Landings

I've been busy making things too on those rainy days when I didn't feel up to going out or doing anything else. Sometimes when the weather's cold and grey it's nice to stay inside and do a spot of nesting. This week I made some Epsom Salts Bath Bombs to combine the restorative properties of Epsom Salts with the relaxing, indulgent smell of Lavender. They were a great success. I'd left them to dry out in the dining room with a T-towel over the top. Mr B happened to go in there for something and emerged with a question: why did the room smell so sensational? There was such a lovely smell of cinnamon! Cinnamon?? I think we need to send Mr B off to have his nose re-calibrated. It's clearly not working properly.

Home made Epsom Salts bath bombs infused with Lavender essential oil

And then when we'd got the bath bombs all sorted we turned our attention to making some lovely stick-on labels to wrap them up with, and some more stick-on labels for last week's Cardamon & Clementine Marmalade.

We've got some great plans for making festive hampers of home-made goodies for friends and family, so our labelling has to be up to scratch to get the look just right.

The beginnings of a festive hamper

And then on Armistice Day itself we observed the silence. Emi was on a school trip to the local synagogue. His school is a bit like the United Nations. The little folk there are from all corners of God's good earth, and, as part of their religious education programme, they are taken to each other's places of worship. It just so happened that this week was the turn of the Jewish faith. So, wearing yamakas, Emi and his class-mates,  Hindus, Christians, Muslims, Jainists, Jews and Sikhs stood shoulder to shoulder and observed the silence together in the synagogue. In such acts of unity I sometimes glimpse a future that's full of better tomorrows for all our children.

When he came home I asked him how it was, and he replied that they got orange juice and some very nice biscuits, which were good, but not quite so good as the yummy food at the Sikh Gurdwara. Apparently the food there was epic. It's a nice take on comparative religion, isn't it?


All the best for a super weekend,

Bonny x

As shared on Friday Finds, Our World Tuesday and image-in-ing