Why rainy days are made for cottage craft

There is a particular sort of afternoon in a period cottage when the rain settles in for the day. The light goes soft and grey, the windows mist at the edges, and there is nothing to be done outdoors. Rather than treat it as a lost day, treat it as a making day. Old cottages were built around small, steady bits of work done at the kitchen table — a bit of stitching, a bundle of herbs tied up to dry, a pan of fruit bubbling on the hob. None of it needs much space, much money, or much skill to begin with, and all of it leaves you with something useful by teatime.

Patchwork: the quiet art of the scrap basket

Patchwork suits cottage living because it consumes what you already have. Worn shirts, faded sheets, curtain offcuts and the good parts of damaged clothing can all be cut into squares and put by. A simple starting point is a 2½ inch square, cut from a cardboard template and pieced with a 6mm seam allowance. Sixty-four of them make a generous cushion front; sixteen make a decent lavender bag.

• Wash and press fabric before you cut it, so it will not shrink later and spoil your careful lines.
• Keep a basket beside your chair with scissors, needles, thread and a few cut squares, so ten spare minutes becomes ten minutes of stitching.
• Try English paper piecing — hexagons tacked over paper templates and joined with tiny oversewing stitches — for something you can carry about the house.

Hand sewing is slower than machine work, but it is quiet, portable and forgiving of imperfect edges. A quilt made over two or three winters is all the better for it.

Drying herbs in a damp English climate

Our summers are rarely dry enough to rely on sunshine alone, so dry your herbs indoors and start early in the day. Cut mid-morning, once the dew has lifted but before the plants flower, when leaf flavour is strongest. Thyme, sage, rosemary, marjoram, mint and bay all dry beautifully.

• Tie six to eight stems into loose bunches with garden twine and hang them upside down in a dark, airy room — a spare bedroom, a porch, or a clothes airer draped with muslin to catch any falling leaves.
• Leave for ten to fourteen days until the leaves rustle and crumble easily between finger and thumb.
• For a faster finish, spread leaves on a baking tray and dry in the oven at its lowest setting, around 40–50°C, with the door propped ajar, for two to three hours.
• Crumble into screw-top jars, label with the herb and the date, and store away from light and heat. Whole leaves keep their scent longer than powdered ones.

Hang seed heads such as fennel and coriander upside down inside paper bags to catch what falls, and you will have next year's sowing for nothing.

Preserves, jams and chutneys from the store cupboard

Preserving is the most rewarding wet-weather job of all, because the smell fills the cottage and the results line up on a shelf like a small harvest. For jam, weigh fruit and sugar in equal quantities. Cook the fruit first until soft, add warmed sugar, then boil hard until you reach setting point — 104–105°C on a jam thermometer. If you have no thermometer, chill a saucer in the freezer, drop a teaspoonful of jam onto it, and push it with your finger; if the surface wrinkles, it is ready.

• Sterilise clean jars by standing them on a baking tray in a 140°C oven for fifteen minutes, then fill them while still hot.
• Seal jam with a wax disc and a screw-top lid; chutneys are happiest under a cellophane cover held with a rubber band.
• Chutney wants a long, slow simmer — one to two hours — until a wooden spoon drawn across the pan leaves a clean trail. Leave it a month to mellow before eating.
• January is Seville orange season, and marmalade made then will see you through the year.

Label everything with contents and date, and store in a cool, dark cupboard.

Small jobs that keep the cottage sweet

Not every project needs a table. Dried lavender sewn into muslin bags will keep drawers and linen cupboards fresh. Melt down candle stubs in a bowl set over a pan of hot water, stir in dried orange peel, rosemary sprigs and sawdust, and spoon into paper cases for firelighters that smell far better than anything bought. And a simple furniture polish — equal parts beeswax and linseed oil, warmed gently together — will bring tired old oak and pine back to life with a soft cloth and a little patience.

Making a small space work on a wet afternoon

Cottages are generous in character and mean with worktops, so keep your kit contained. A shallow tin trunk or lidded basket holds a whole project out of sight. A tray lets you lift stitching, herbs and jam labels from table to shelf in one go. A drop-leaf table, a lap board, and a hook by the range cooker for drying bunches will see you through most of what is suggested here. Work in short spells, tidy as you go, and let the rain do its work outside while you do yours within.