Uncle Toms dried herbs

My godfather name is Tom and he lives in a cottage in rural Yorkshire. I haven’t visited him since I was a child, we moved around a lot and it was hard to keep in touch. He has a lot of godchildren because he is such a wonderful man. I wear a gold bracelet on my wrist which he gave to me when for my christening.

His home was the dream and I may remember it slightly differently to how it is but I have always love his beautiful cottage.

Apple tree cottage sounds exactly how you think. A quaint stone cottage that has a small bridge leading up to the door. A small stream trickles in front of the village houses and noisy ducks swim around quacking and demanding bread.

Tom was tall but he ducked to get into his home which had beautiful, beams on the ceiling, proper fires in every room an aga fire and my favourite thing was dried herbs and flowers everywhere.

The kitchen had a drying rack in it strung with herbs and flowers and when I imagine a perfect kitchen this is it.

Flagstone floors.

Beams

A red aga warming cold toes

Copper pans hanging as well as flowers and herbs everywhere. A biophillic balance paradise of practical beautiful and nature. I felt very at home there. My whole family loved visiting Uncle Tom.

I love bay leaves and I was talking to my Mother in law about buying a bay and a rosemary trees. I have a jar I keep my bay leaves in but I should just grow my own. Sue then disappeared down the garden and came back with a beautiful bunch of fresh bay leaves.

Enough for me to bind them and hang them to dry.

Of course I am going to to try and use a bit as a cutting, it would be crazy not too but they are also going to see if they can dig them up for me. So I can pot and grow my own herbs.

I have lovely memories of cooking stews with bay leaves with my dad, our huge bay trees we have at our house in France.

So my dream is to have a kitchen full of dried herbs that I grew and dried myself. For now I am going to let my herbs grow naturally in the darkness of the cupboard