Acorn hunting, an autumn wreath and The Theatre of Golden Oaks.

A childhood story from the forest, a recipe & something beautiful & natural to make at home.

I was lost. It had taken me quite a few hours to realise I was lost, but now there was no denying it. That sinking feeling, the slow realisation that I had no idea where I was, or how to get home. The pressure rising in my chest, swallowing hard to keep the dread at bay. I stopped walking, my eyes darting from side to side, widening as the fear suddenly engulfed me.

I had been quite happily walking through the forest, exploring its seemingly never-ending corridors lined with ancient living columns that soared into the bluest of skies. The colours, oh the colours! Field maple, oak, beech, sycamore and chestnut all sporting their dazzling autumn collection of honey, cinnabar, Merlot and blackberry jam.

My neck ached from looking up so much and more than once I had bumped into a stout tree-friend. Apologies were accepted. ¹The stick and bindle I’d been carrying over my shoulder was now light, but I knew there was one delicious homemade oat cookie left. I’d been saving it for when I reached The Theatre of Golden Oaks, a circular clearing deep in the woods surrounded by the friendliest of oak trees. In late September they put on their greatest show and it was worth the expedition just to be able to sit for a spell on its crunchy fall carpet and dream as the wind blew through their radiant amber cloaks.

I began my ritual. First I would lie down in the very centre pretending I was an angel on the leafy forest floor, like I would when the snow came. It made me laugh and the sound ricocheted around the amphitheater as if friends were laughing with me. It didn’t bother me that my clothes were now strewn with leaves, mud and creepy crawlies. Mum would sort it.

I untied the knot in the handkerchief bundle at the end of my trusty stick and carefully unfolded its four gingham corners to reveal its final oaty wholesome treat. How did she get them to be so crumbly and chewy at the same time? They had to be the crumbliest, chewiest biscuit in the world, surely? Every mouthful was better than the last, its rich, sugary dryness making my taste buds spasm and pop with delight. It was always so disappointing when I licked the last specks of deliciousness off my fingers, knowing that there would be no more till my next visit.

The Theatre of Golden Oaks had one more special treat in store for me though. At this time of year they would share their greatest gift and shower the ground with little nuggets of love. Acorns; life literally encapsulated in russet-coloured jewel boxes.

I would search for them like hunting for eggs at Easter time. With my handkerchief now empty, it was the perfect sack to store them in. I re-tied the knot to secure my treasures and set off home. It would soon be supper time. I just hoped it wasn’t liver and bacon!

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To read the rest of this story from my childhood and find out how to make both the wreath and the cookies, join the club as a fully paid member. We’re a lovely bunch and there’s so much more coming up in the weeks and months ahead. We also now have our own private lively Chat Forum, where we talk about all things HOME & HORT and have a few giggles along the way. Don’t miss out!

I knew the route home off-by-heart. It was pretty much a straight line from The Theatre of Golden Oaks toward the Quicksands of Doom. God, I was dramatic! Nothing has changed. I had only gotten my wellies stuck in their squelching, thick darkness once. I had to reach for a branch to pull myself clear with all the might a dreamer of a nine-year-old could muster. It was a close call. It nearly sucked me under! From then on I would navigate around the sinking sludge to avoid its perilous depths.

The path had a three-pronged fork. I would take the far left, which took me towards a grouping of parallel silver birch trees known as The Avenue of Pristine Whiteness. Can you tell why I fell in love with the Anne of Green Gables stories?

Ever the romantic, each part of the forest had a title, just as many of the extra special specimen trees had their very own name: Lucifer, Jacob and Epiphany. All biblical due to my strict catholic upbringing. The magnificent crimson leaves of the latter, a Rowen beauty of old, I would encounter once I’d travelled past the avenue and made my way through a swathe of bracken the colour of hazelnuts. But, she wasn’t there. I might have had my head in the clouds, but one thing I did know was that trees don’t just disappear!

How could that happen? I’d made this journey a hundred times. I decided to walk back on myself and find The Avenue of Pristine Whiteness again. From there I could right my path and be home and safe in no time. But, the avenue eluded me too. A flock of birds taking flight startled me as I looked up to watch their escape. The darkening sky began to spin as I circled around the woodland floor. I was helplessly lost.

“You bloody idiot J.P! Mum’s going to have a fit when you get home!” I said to myself. “If I could just find the three-pronged fork again.” I was imagining the flack I was going to get from my older brother. He’d never let me forget.

“What’s that?” I could hear someone calling in the distance. I took a sharp intake of breath, which momentarily silenced me as if the forest somehow didn’t want me to be found. “Helloooo! Is anyone there?” I cried.

Silence.

I span around and called out again. “I’m here! It’s J.P!” My cry echoed again, but this time the replies seemed like they were mocking me, reminding me I was alone.

Nothing.

Then, a faint distant call: “Where the hell are you? We’ve been looking for you everywhere!” It was my father. That wasn’t good. Well, it was fab that he would find me and that I wouldn’t be eaten by the night monsters of the forest, but perhaps that might have been a little better than the trouble I was going to be in when I got home. Hopefully, I would not be banned from the woods. I still had more acorns to collect to make my wreath and I totally forgot to give thanks and say goodbye to the oak trees!

Perhaps I’d leave it a week or so till things calmed down and perhaps not mention that I couldn’t find Epiphany. They hated it when I spoke about the trees like they were people, but to me, they were my friends. Sad, I know, but the forest didn’t call me names and make fun of me like humans did. It offered me reassuring hugs and simple gifts of kindness like the precious acorns. I knew where I was with the acorns.

An Autumn Wreath incorporating the acorns

My mother grew sunset orange Achillea in her garden and the marmalade tones of the straw flowers (Helichrysum) were everywhere. I’ve told you before she has a penchant for the warmer side of the gardening and interior spectrum. To honour her and to celebrate this time of glowing embers, I’ve incorporated those plants, along with the acorns and pine cones I collected, with a little burnt orange painted Gypsophila thrown in for good measure. It’s all on a natural vine wreath, which you can definitely make yourself if you have a vine. It’s so easy! You can also use Wisteria, Honeysuckle, Clematis, or Willow to create your wreath base.

Using secateurs, just cut the longest vine stems you possibly can. I often use two, or three lengths and bind them together to make a thicker wreath. Take off all the leaves. Using your hands create a circle with your vine. You can just tuck in the ends. If you want a thicker wreath then just make another circle of the same size and place it on top of the other, or you can weave another vine through your existing circle.

Using floral wire tie the wreath together in at least four places, or you can just start at one point and then pass your floral wire through the hoop, binding it together as you go around the circle. Snip off any straggling stems, or leaves. Hang and leave to dry.

Due to time, I used a vine wreath I already had. You can buy them here. There are no rules for making your autumn wreath. You can use whatever you like and you can place as much, or as little on the vine wreath as you like. It’s already pretty, so I’ve left some of mine showing. All of the flowers I have used can be grown in your own garden and dried.

I know I’m going to get flack for using a glue gun, but sometimes it is the best possible thing for gluing fiddly acorns and straw flowers. However, I have recently found some biodegradable and compostable glue sticks, but the diameter is 12mm and my current glue gun uses 7mm, so I’m going to be investing in a new one to be able to use the eco-friendly glue sticks.

By the way, it is very easy to remove everything from this wreath and use them again and again and, although time consuming, the glue can be peeled off and discarded. Yes, for this wreath the glue will not be able to be composted, but everything else on this wreath is completely natural, so I’m not going to feel too guilty.

I started by gluing and tying three pine cones to the bottom right of my wreath to create a focal point. I used basic garden wire for tying, but you can use floristry wire. I then added straw flowers. You can double up on the straw flowers and build a thick, sumptuous display. Some of them came with stems, so I could just tuck those into the vine. I collected the acorns from my village, so you’ll need to find an oak tree and then scout the ground. Obviously ask permission if the tree is not yours. Just keep going till you start to see something you like.

At the back of my wreath I used the orange-painted gypsophila just simply tucked into the vines themselves. The idea was just to give a pretty frothy background for the Helichrysum and acorns. Finally, I added the Achillea stems, which I cut shorter and just tucked into holes in the wreath. That’s it. Stop crafting when you like what you see, hang it on your door, over a bed, or anywhere where you will see it daily. We have an overhang above our front door, which keeps things dry, so it’s perfectly ok for me to hang this outside. This wreath is not waterproof though, so remember that. Have fun!

The best homemade oat cookies you will ever eat!

This recipe makes about 16 large cookies. You can mess about with the dried fruit options if you want, perhaps add cranberries, but this is a classic, so I stick to the raisins. I don’t have a photo. This has been the most manic week and I’m writing this late on Thursday night, knowing I will still need to finish it late on Friday night and possibly (definitely) Saturday too, in between cleaning our holiday home ready for the next guests and creating the bedroom of dreams and cleaning the barn before our real-life friend guests arrive on Saturday. So, I have not made these recently, but I assure they are absolutely, scrumptiously delicious! This is my mother’s recipe btw!

Ingredients

170g soft butter
100g caster sugar
125g light brown sugar
1 tsp table salt
1 whole egg and 1 egg yolk
1 tsp natural vanilla extract

80g plain flour
70g oat flour
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
150g rolled oats
40g medium or coarse oatmeal
100g dried raisins or sultanas

Method

Place the raisins in a bowl and cover with hot water. Leave them to soak while you’re prepping the dough.

Beat the butter with an electric whisk until soft and fluffy, add the sugars and salt and continue beating for about three minutes. Make sure you scrape down the sides of the bowl as you go.

Beat in the egg, yolk and vanilla extract. Carefully sift in the flour, oat flour and bicarb. Don’t whisk this, just gently fold them in.

Drain the raisins and pat dry with some kitchen towel then stir it into the mix with the oats and oatmeal. Wrap the dough in clingfilm and then chill in the fridge overnight.

The next day, line two baking trays with greaseproof paper and heat the oven to 200C (180C fan) or 390F/gas 6.

Using your hands pinch out 50g pieces of dough, roll these into balls and place them evenly on the baking trays. These are quite large, don’t be shy on this part. They will end up crumbly on the outside edges and chewy in the centre. If they’re too small then they will just be dry and crumbly. Use a scale for the first ball and then you’ll be able to guess the rest from the first one.

Bake in the oven for about 18 minutes until golden brown and firm around the edges. Leave to cool.

I hope you enjoyed this week’s episode. It took so much time to write, make and film, so please do leave a heart ♥️, a restack (that’s the recycle symbol below) and/or a comment. It’s so easy to do and makes a huge difference. Thank you so much! Xx

1. A bindle is the bag, sack, or carrying device stereotypically used by the American sub-culture of hobos. The bindle is colloquially known as the blanket stick, particularly within the Northeastern hobo community. The term bindle may descend from the German word Bündel, meaning something wrapped up in a blanket and bound by cord for carrying. The bindle would be carried on a stick over the shoulder. This transferred force to the shoulder, which allowed a longer-lasting and comfortable grip, especially with larger heavier loads.