Task 45: Make my own perfume

I like wearing perfume and would say I'm sensitive to smell and taste in general. There's an ingredient used in a number of perfumes which makes me feel really nauseous. Unfortunately when I was working in central London years ago there was one such perfume that was very popular for about a year. Going to the local department store at lunchtime meant running the gauntlet of shop assistants who would attempt to spray every passer-by with the stuff. If it landed on me, I would feel sick all afternoon. The bus journey from Waterloo was a daily bind, as there would always be some woman who seemed to have rolled herself in it (and in the morning, too - definitely not on). I would sit there, pretending I had a nose bleed so I could cover my face with a hankie. 

This probably sounds very prissy but it's genuine. Certain smells and tastes to me are so strong that I find it hard to understand why other people barely notice them. It's the equivalent of dressing head to foot in brilliant scarlet, and being described as possibly wearing a touch of red.

The idea of making my own perfume was definitely appealing. I always rather envied someone I knew very slightly, whose father was a former President of Haiti, as she used to have hers specially made for her, with a unique recipe that particularly suited her. (Nothing else about her lifestyle attracted me.) In my case I'd opt for something light but not fugitive, with the emphasis on citrussy, grassy scents, combined with the essence of Jo Malone's Pomegranate Noir. I've just noticed that Jo Malone has a fragrance called Wood Sage and Sea Salt, which sounds promising...

Having added this to my list of challenges, I was intending to go on a half day perfume-making workshop in London, which sounded interesting. However Peter forestalled this by including in my Christmas stocking a box by Essence of Arcadia with the ingredients and equipment to make your own blend of essential oils, to use as perfume, massage oil, room fragrance, etc:

With a rare display of self-control (I love getting presents and find it hard not to open them even before I've been given them, if I happen to spot any that haven't been well hidden), I managed not to open the box until yesterday, when I at last had the chance to settle down and tackle this challenge:

As you can just about see, the set included 4 essential oils - lavender, eucalyptus, bergamot and lavender - as well as a bottle of sweet almond oil to use as a base, and a dripper bottle (still no idea what that's for), a pipette bottle and a roll-on applicator. There was also a booklet on various blends and uses of the oils, which was in effect a recipe book:

It would have been helpful if it had explained how to get the tops off the roll-on applicator and the pipette bottle, as they seemed to be firmly wedged in place and I didn't want to risk breaking the glass. Google came to the rescue, as so often, and I found a couple of videos on YouTube which showed how to do it. You have to unscrew the bottle tops by about two-thirds, and then snap them sideways so that they disengage without breaking.

Not many of the recipes were for perfumes, as the heaviness of the oils means they're most suitable for use in diffusers as room fresheners, but the "muscle and joint blend" sounded promising. The quantities were too large for the bottles supplied, so I scaled them down by a factor of ten. That was fine for the sweet almond oil but was more of an issue when it came to the essential oils. Trying to extract only 0.7 of a drop of lavender oil wasn't easy. As a perfume it didn't have much impact - when I asked Peter what he thought, he said it smelled like dandelions - so I decided to try using it to massage my knee. It was briefly very effective in relieving the pain, but I think that was due to the massaging action rather than the oils.

I decided to add in some bergamot, so that I'd be using all four essential oils and to see if that gave it more oomph. It didn't. In general you are meant to dilute them heavily with the base oil, as most can cause skin irritation if applied in anything like neat form. Apparently some can even be fatal if swallowed, as they can attack the internal organs.

As an attempt to make a perfume, I can't honestly say this was a success, but I think I'll be able to make some pleasantly scented massage oils and fragrance diffusers. If I wanted to take this further, I would probably buy a bottle of perfumer's alcohol (to replace the sweet almond oil) and a few bottles of fragrance oils such as amber, lemon verbena, wild mint and green tea. On balance, though, I'm inclined to stick to Jo Malone.

Task 36: Go Nordic walking

Like most people, I had always thought Nordic walkers in Richmond Park looked daft. Why take ski poles and wear walking boots when you're basically going for a stroll? And that loud clicking and scraping of the poles on hard surfaces is pretty irritating. However my friend Pauline, who abounds in common sense, had done a Nordic walking course and thoroughly enjoyed it, so I thought it was worth a try.

Having completed a Better Bones course last year and been recommended the free Fit as a Fiddle Nordic walking course funded by the Kingston Health team, which was the one Pauline had done, I rang to ask about the possibility of taking part. The co-ordinator, Grace, was very helpful and when I explained it was one of my 60 challenges, she immediately decided to do what she could to squeeze me in. I hadn't realised that due to funding cuts, the next course was the very last one that would take place and I'm extremely grateful to Grace for finding space for me.

I'd assumed that the six week course - two hours every Tuesday morning - would solely involve walking, but the first hour each week was devoted to advice and guidance on healthy eating, maintaining a healthy lifestyle, tracking individual weekly targets for exercise and nutrition, and a discreetly managed weigh-in. At the end of the six weeks my progress wasn't sparkling. In fact I ended exactly where I had begun, both for weight and for waist measurement, but as that had encompassed a short holiday in Rye and various special dinners and lunches, it wasn't a bad result. Here are some of the photos of our group of twelve looking both daft and determined:

Warm-up and balance exercises

Mastering the velcro straps - surprisingly tricky

Tacey (in grey top) showing good technique

Uphill - Carolyn setting the pace

Pausing for breath

The six weeks passed in a flash and I thoroughly enjoyed every session, even though it wasn't until the very last one that I managed to synchronise arms, legs and poles - more or less. Grace was firmly encouraging with tips for weight loss (for those of us, including me, that needed them), Mark was an excellent instructor and Jane was a dedicated assistant. Here are the three of them, on our last day:

Mark, Grace and Jane

And here is the remains of our celebratory end-of-course lunch, which included the odd chip or three:

Over the six weeks I learned that Nordic walking provides a very effective cardiovascular workout, as well as improving general levels of fitness, balance and muscle control (abdominal and glutes). It's also sociable and a great way of getting fresh air in good company. Our entire group has decided to continue getting together every Tuesday morning in Richmond Park, equipped with poles and hiking boots, and we won't be alone. Thanks largely to the efforts of the now (sadly) defunct Fit as a Fiddle programme, the Park is dotted with similar groups, all looking more or less daft and not caring at all.

Task 47: Visit Lamb House in Rye

About 20 years ago, Peter and I used to celebrate the New Year by spending a few days at a hotel near Rye, where they had a lively jazz band and an excellent reviving brunch to start the year on a high note. It was pleasant wandering around the lovely old town, though a bit frustrating never being able to visit Lamb House, the former home of Henry James, as it wasn't open in the winter. Last year, for no obvious reason, I ended up reading 4 biographies of Henry James. Although I don't particularly like either his writing or his personality, he's an interesting character and I decided that putting the visit on my list of challenges would provide the incentive I needed. We therefore rented an apartment in Rye for a few days last week and took the first opportunity to visit his home.

The house was built in 1722 by James Lamb, a wealthy wine merchant and local politician, and has a particularly imposing front door. It's nine feet high and the key is so large that when Henry James was living there, he had the huge door knocker adjusted so that when twisted sideways, it would release the latch and enable him to get back in without having to carry the key with him:

One night in the winter of 1726 King George I's ship was washed up on the nearby Camber Sands and he spent the next few days at the house, which was deemed the most appropriate in Rye. James Lamb naturally gave up his bed to the king, which was all very well except that his wife was about to go into labour. She gave birth during the night to a boy, and the couple had the sense to name him George and ask the king to be godfather. He could hardly refuse and, as expected, gave a handsome christening present of a large silver bowl.

A detached garden room, with a large bay window overlooking the cobbled street, was added - originally as a banqueting room - in 1743. During the summer months it was used by Henry James - and later by E F Benson, when he lived there between 1919 and 1940 - as his favourite room for writing, and it was there that he produced The Wings of the Dove, The Ambassadors and The Golden Bowl. Unfortunately it was destroyed by a German bomb in 1940.

Henry James came across the house by chance while he was visiting an architect friend in the area. He was enchanted by it and was delighted when he was able first to rent it and then, in 1899, to buy it. He retained his apartment in London and spent the winters there, but for most of the rest of the year he lived in Lamb House, entertaining a wide range of literary friends including H G Wells, Joseph Conrad, Rudyard Kipling, G K Chesterton, Hilaire Belloc, Ford Madox Ford, Compton Mackenzie and Max Beerbohm. He died in London in February 1916 and the house was given to the National Trust by his nephew's widow in 1950.

Portrait of Henry James by John Singer Sargent, 1913 (copy)

Only part of the ground floor and the garden - the largest in Rye - are open to the public, so there is a limited amount to see, but there are a number of his personal possessions including his pocket watch (given to him by his older brother William), walking sticks, portable bookcase, card table and a corner bookcase designed specifically for him:

;

Perhaps the most interesting exhibit is a proof edition of The American, originally published in 1877 and substantially re-worked by Henry James for the 1907 New York version, which shows how heavily he revised it:

The house is pleasantly mellow, with well-proportioned rooms, but even more attractive is the garden. When he first moved to Rye, Henry James knew almost nothing about gardening and had no idea what to do with it. Gradually he developed a keen interest in it, seeking advice from friends and creating a really lovely space, made more easily accessible by the french windows that he added in the dining room:

One of his friends was the novelist E F Benson - author of the Mapp and Lucia books, amongst many others - who came to Rye as his guest in 1900. After James' death in 1916, Benson became a part-time tenant at Lamb House in 1917 and took on the lease two years later, living there until his death in 1940. Although he died in London, he is buried in St Mary's in Rye. 

The two novelists could hardly be more different in style. Although I enjoyed reading The Portrait of a Lady and didn't find the extremely long sentences and dense prose particularly off-putting, as the characterisation was so strong, it isn't a book I would warm to. By contrast, Miss Mapp (my favourite of the Mapp and Lucia series) is witty, amusing and lighthearted, though also rich in psychological insight. Lamb House - named Mallards in Benson's novels - is where much of the activity takes place and the recent television adaptation was filmed there.

Benson's Rye reminds me very much of Ham, with its quirky characters, eccentricities and village atmosphere - and the lightning speed at which news travels. Not much stays secret for long and, like Consequences, the story tends to change as it goes along. Both are wonderful places and probably, as with Ham, hardly anyone who lives there ever wants to leave.

Task 19: See Derek Jarman's garden

Ever since I heard about Derek Jarman's garden, back in the 1980s, I was intrigued by it and wanted to see it. The remoteness, amidst the shingle and wrecked old fishing boats on the shore of Dungeness, appealed to me and as he was an innovative film director I thought it would be striking. What I hadn't realised, until Peter and I went there last week, was just how desolate the landscape feels, in a biting wind and with the nuclear power station and electricity pylons as a backdrop:

Apparently the garden started accidentally, when a piece of driftwood was used to stake a rose. Gradually more pieces of wood and other items were retrieved from the beach and used to support the increasing number of plants, and also to create a form and structure for the garden, which in winter must look very bare. Even now the planting is quite spare and has little colour, apart from a little pink, a few orange Californian poppies and the bright yellow gorse - which is echoed in the yellow window frames of the black timbered cottage:

It's the "found" items from the beach that provide the focal points and exercise the imagination:

On the side of the cottage is part of John Donne's poem The Sun Rising:

       Busy old fool, unruly sun,

       Why dost thou thus,

       Through windows, and through curtains call on us?

       Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run?

       Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide

       Late school boys and sour prentices,

       Go tell court huntsmen that the king will ride,

       Call country ants to harvest offices,

       Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime,

       Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.

       Thou, sun, art half as happy as we,

       In that the world's contracted thus.

       Thine age asks ease, and since thy duties be

       To warm the world, that's done in warming us.

       Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere;

       This bed thy centre is, these walls, thy sphere.

The poem fits the mood of the cottage perfectly - although the sun wasn't exactly busy on the day we were there. If you are in the area I think it's well worth making a detour to see the garden, particularly if you like wild, desolate marshes and shingle beaches. The local fresh fish and chips are an added attraction.