It still needs:

1. Roof and roofing felt.
2. Internal light fitted.
3. Windowsill.
4. Cat flap fitted permanently.

The colour is all wrong — I’m going to paint it again with a darker green. It’s also waiting for a proper felt roof, so it isn’t fully waterproof yet.

As you can see I didn’t get as much done as I’d have liked. Still to do:

1. Drill hole and fit cat flap.
2. Drill hole and fit a window.
3. Add the hinged roof.
4. Cover with timber-effect cladding and paint.

The back frame is built from wood and bolted to the rear wall of the house:

Believe it or not, just this took a whole day (about 8 full hours, if you include the trips to Screwfix, Wickes & Homebase).

Tomorrow:

1. Add a front frame
2. Add plywood sides and roof.
3. Probably I will make one side out of a sheet of perspex so there is a bit of light and she can see out.
4. The roof will be hinged so we can change the cat litter.
5. Add a cat flap in one side.

Future jobs:

1. Seal around the sides so air/water can’t get in.
2. Add some lead flashing maybe.
3. Paint it!

Guineafowl is pretty tasty.

Talking …

We’ve got two of them in the garden stealing food from the smaller birds.

Drift ice around Abashiri:

Mashu-ko:

Thanks N-sama and H-san for making it!

Actually I used a Coquina squash, although they are barely any different from a butternut squash.

Loosely based on this recipe, or rather on the recipe in the comments, but heavily adapted by me.

vs

follow this link!

In case the Times decide to put it behind a paywall, here is this recipe:

2kg pork belly, bone in, skin scored by the butcher into 1cm strips
Cider vinegar
3 plump cloves of garlic
Fine salt and freshly ground pepper
8 sprigs of thyme
2 tbsp olive oil
1 bay leaf
4 red onions, peeled and quartered through the root
4 pears
125ml dry cider
200ml chicken stock

Eight hours before you want to eat, place the pork, skin side up, on an oven rack in the sink and pour over freshly boiled water. This helps open up the fat to create good crackling. Dry the skin thoroughly, then brush with cider vinegar. Place uncovered in the fridge for at least four hours, ideally overnight. If you don’t have time, dry thoroughly with kitchen towel.

Mash the garlic cloves with a pinch of salt. Strip the leaves from 4 of the thyme sprigs and add to the garlic. Stir in the olive oil.

Place the pork, skin side down, in a large roasting tin. Season the flesh generously, then poke a few shallow holes between the bones with the point of a knife. Massage the garlic mixture into the meat. Turn skin side up, tucking the bay leaf underneath, and leave at room temperature for about an hour.

Preheat the oven to 200C/400F/Gas Mark 6. Dry the pork skin again, then scatter with a good tbsp of salt and massage in well. Place in the oven, skin side up, and cook for 1 hour. Add the onion quarters and stir until coated with the fat. Return to the oven for 30 minutes.

Turn the onions, then halve the pears and add to the roasting tin, cut side down. Scatter with the remaining thyme. After 15 minutes, turn the pears and increase the oven temperature to 240C/475F/Gas Mark 9. Cook for another 20-25 minutes or until the skin is puffed and crisp. The meat should be juicy but cooked through, the onions caramelised and soft, the pears on the verge of collapse. Transfer everything to a serving dish and keep warm.

Tip off most of the fat from the pan, leaving behind the meaty juices. Place on the hob, pour in the cider and allow to bubble for 1-2 minutes – scrape all the caramelised bits off the bottom. Pour in the stock and bubble for a few minutes more. Taste and season.

Carve the pork at the table, cutting between the bones into rustic ribs.

Previously …

This recipe along with 2 lbs of our own courgettes, our own basil, and our own chives, was very delicious.

On Lady E’s desk, which is now my workbench!