On The Road to Morocco

Today I thought I would go back in time a bit to last summer when I whisked Betty off to Marrakech on a week’s holiday. It was a spur of the moment thing and so my usual careful planning went out of the window. Thus, I did not realise that Morocco would be 40 degrees in the shade in June. The flight was painless enough, and we were met by a driver who took us on a long dusty and exotic drive out into the desert to the Jnane Tamsna hotel. On arrival, the sight of a large and dazzlingly blue swimming pool was too good to ignore. One could I deduced, easily observe that it had been carefully constructed at a level depth of 4 feet throughout for convenience and thus, happily confident, I plunged straight in. Well dear readers when I tell you that all good sailors cannot swim (including Lord Nelson), and I also tell you that I spent a large part of my early life as a ships captain; you will begin perhaps to arrive at my first challenge of the trip. I sank to the bottom of what turned out to be a pool constructed using the stunningly clever technique of optical illusion viz. dear readers, 4 feet actually turned out to be 12 feet. Betty’s next short story would have been entitled “Death in Marrakech” had it not been for a bit of panicky grabbing of the poolside edge.

Jnane Tamsna despite its pool designer who must be a close relative of Eisenstein the famous illusionist, was an absolutely stunning place. A fantastic organic garden set in the middle of a desert oasis. Betty was delighted by the beautiful gardens and exotic desert flowers. A large part of the grounds are planted with vegetables used to supply the kitchen and the ground is divided up into small square plots each irrigated on a rotational basis by miles of shallow water ditches. The meals were simple and organic and served out on a terrace by the swimming pool. We breakfasted early before the sun became too strong and dined at sundown as the wails of the prayer caller at the great mosque miles away in the old city wafted across the parched sand. I was already thinking about the logistics of curling a towel around my head, changing my name to Lawrence, and booking the next day’s camel ride into the Atlas mountains.
The hotel, although having all the appearance of being built in the 1940’s is I am assured a modern replica built over the years from 1985 onwards. It was very hard to believe this as the atmosphere is definitely from a previous colonial era.

Anyway, I digress. To get the crux of this story, it was in this wonderful place that Betty decided that not only should we start our own vegetable plot at home, but that we should sell a very special range of gardening accessories; wonderful baskets, watering cans, herb pots, apple stores, etc.etc. all in wonderful retro designs and colours. This idea was put into practice on her return home and now you can see many of the initial stock items on the website at http://www.twyford-cookers.com/cookware

So just to close, if you feel like a restful trip to a desert oasis, and fell in love with Lawrence of Arabia try the amazing Jnane Tamsna whose stunning website is at http://www.jnanetamsna.com/ I don’t think you will be disappointed. But, just a small caution……. beware of mirages, especially in the vicinity of water !

Dulcet Tones

Dear readers, it started on Monday morning as I was about to leave for work. The telephone rang (which is unusual in our house at 7.00am in the morning ). Usually at that time of day one can expect either financially challenged or suddenly pregnant children, but no, this time it was a call from an old friend of my late mothers -Dulcie Tennant. Mother always used to refer to her affectionately as Dulcet Tones.

When I tell you that my dear mother Iris died in 1980 at the age of 70 you will appreciate that her old school friend Dulcie is now around 99 and since she is now partially deaf, conversation proceeded, or perhaps preceded is the correct term, at a rather pedestrian rate. Dulcie however, despite her advanced age has many up to date ideas and has managed to stay in the forefront of technology. Her greatest love is her old period cottage, and above all her most treasured possession….her 1941 cream traditional solid fuel Aga.

“ Lugging this wretched coal about is really getting me down dear “ she said using an almost exact impression of Michael Winner. “ Is it possible you could switch it over to some other fuel dear”. “Well Auntie Dulcie” I shouted back ( in the interests of not having to repeat things at least three times ), “It would definitely be better for you to change it over to oil or gas. Less work for you, how about the colour ?”.” I suppose you want to keep it traditional cream ?” “Aubergine dear” she skwarked, its all the rage, I saw it on your web thingy at http://www.twyford-cookers.com/ can you change it to Aubergine ? “

“Well of course I can” I said, instantly realising that this job was going to be overseen like a military operation with Dulcet Tones as the five star general. I was already thinking I’d probably made a rod for my own back as now 5 minutes late I lurched on to the station platform at 8.35 to get the 8.30 for Paddington. Still, what is life without a challenge I thought as I was forced to leap onto the train which was now almost halfway out of the station. “Dulcet Tones” I whispered as my knee banged the edge of the open carriage door.

Betty's Big Game Hunt

Early last Sunday morning I awoke to find Betty staring intently out of our first floor bedroom window in a particularly agitated state. Enquiring as to the cause of her concern she announced that she had just observed a large wild animal slinking across our orchard. In true manly style I queried the exact colour, size and movement of the alleged beast and was assured that this was no dog, deer, or large domestic feline. No...Betty was adamant that this was similar to a lion. Low to the ground, a light sandy colour, moving in a very stealthy manner and finally lurking behind a tree before stretching up the trunk using its front paws and rising to a full height of about 5 feet ! To say that I was a little sceptic dear readers would be somewhat of an understatement. However in many years of married life I have learnt at least one thing about my dear Betty, and that is that if she says she saw something unbelievable then it MUST be investigated by yours truly in the best Inspector Morse like fashion possible. Rushing out into the garden ( dressing first I know you will be relieved to know ) I made a detailed search of the predators last location. Whilst finding no sign of animal tracks, I was very surprised to come across the last little portion of a Walls ice cream cone behind a tree and further beyond that a little metal disc on which was inscribed the name DORIS, the number 1877 and the title " Herefordshire Wildlife Ranger". Now I know dear friends that one of Betty's best friends is called Doris and works for "the council" so putting two and two together I called Doris up to see if she knew something about this strange affair. Indeed she did. Apparently Betty has seen the "beast" ( not Doris I hasten to explain ) several times, and had asked Doris to try and track it down. Doris being a bit of a practical joke fanatic decided to investigate but also to play the part of the "beast" by donning a animal face mask. For my scrapbook, I asked Doris to come over and pose for photos which she kindly did. Alas, the story of Betty and the real beast remains unsolved, but knowing Betty as I do I am sure I will be investigating further.

Signal Failure & Golfing Incident at Ruislip

As I half suspected it might be, this mornings journey in to work was indecently interrupted by signal failure just short of the Ruislip station platform. Peering out of my carriage I was treated to the picture of two golfers at Ruislip Golf Club teeing off. I was, I have to admit, rather chuffed when one of them sliced his shot and the ball whizzed towards me hitting the side of the carriage with a resounding thump. Serve them right I thought for having the indecency to play golf on a workday. After half an hour I decided to take the bull by the horns and disembark at Ruislip, walking up the last bit of the line to the main platform ( station staff glaring at me )and then catching a bus to work. Once I arrived at the office Beatrice produced a wonderful cup of coffee from my private stash of Blue Mountain Blend and I have now settled down to the usual round of calls and meetings. Betty called to say that she is having morning coffee with Amanda who has a new baby, so the Rasberry Sponge will take a bit of a pounding before I get home. Betty is thinking of coming up to town this afternoon as she wants to meet her new catalogue designer for Betty Twyford's new range of products. She has got the first items up on the website at http://www.twyford-cookers.com/ and they do look wonderful. Oh well, back to work now !

Comment On My Dearest Betty's First Blog

Coming home from the City on the 5.20 to Gerrards Cross, I was musing over my dear wife's latest venture into the world of "blogging" at www.bettytwyford.blogspot.com and "twittering" as "bettytwyford" at http://www.twitter.com/bettytwyford . She is truly a marvel to me. Not only am I constantly treated to the magnificent delights of her Aga cooking when I return home at night, but now I can read about her exploits on my laptop whilst travelling. I can tell you dear readers that the Walnut & Coffee Cake stands in a class of its own ! No more knickerbocker glory in the directors diningroom for me. From now on a regular space is reserved in my briefcase for a tupperware container holding the divine fruits of my darling Betty's labours in the dessert department. She now tells me that she is plunging into the sale of Garden, Laundry and Household products on her site at http://www.twyford-cookers.com/ , I can barely restrain my excitement.