In last week's class we talked about imagery and our homework was to write a piece called Utopia.
Call me an old (*sob*) cynic but the word Utopia makes me think of a place where everything's perfect on the face of it but if you look closely it resembles 1984. Anyway, there are a couple of us whose writing is a little on the dark side and when I said what my idea of Uptopia was, Ian said that we weren't to make it dark and it was to be the conventional understanding of the word.
It’s hot. The sort of heat that makes your skin tingle and hits you like a wall when you step outside. I take a breath and hold onto my mask and take a giant stride. The water caresses me as I dive down. A deliciously cool respite from the heat. I look around in wonder as I float weightless in the deep wide blue. I gasp at the brilliant colour of the fishes as they dart amongst the delicate fronds of coral and grey hulks of rock, surrounding me, enticing me to join them in their dance. A silent cinema screen that I am a part of.
Two dives later and we’re lying on the top deck, searching out a coveted shady spot, lazily dreaming of ice cream and a cold beer. Chatting quietly, listening to the lapping water against the boat.
We head to the beach, the short boat trip can’t take more than a couple of minutes but it feels like a lifetime as we’re all impatient to be on land after several days aboard the boat, aching for a brief lull from the constant motion.
I don’t remember which island it was, but I can still feel the softness under my feet, see the dazzling brightness of the pristine sand contrasting with the deep turquoise of the sea. I can still smell the salty fragrance of the air.
I stand on the beach, struggling to take in the beauty that I’m surrounded by. The dark gray rocks strewn across the beach, jutting out of the sand and tumbling into the sea. Smooth and warm to the touch, providing no respite from the heat. The brightness of the sun makes my eyes squint. As I breathe deeply in, the air warms my body, heating my soul and as I close my eyes, I smile.
Night falls. There is no light pollution. The stars are infinite, so bright against the darkness which envelops me. The lapping water is just background music now and I can only hear deafening silence. The air is still, gentle somehow, rather than the unrelenting heat of the day. I lift my head and stretch my arms wide to embrace the day.
Sunday, 18 November 2012
Wednesday, 7 November 2012
Creative writing class
I'm taking a 5 week creative writing class through work. A proper real live published author is the tutor and there's only 8 people in the class and I'm really enjoying it.
In the first class we did an exercise and we had to think of a place from our lives and then we took it in turns to think of a way of describing this place. For example, if this place was a part of the body, what part would it be? Others were if this place was a colour, what colour would it be, what kind of drink, what kind of food (yeah, that one was mine), what kind of car.
At the end of the exercise we had a list of about 20 descriptions and our homework was to expand on this list and to use it as a base to write a story of 200-300 words
The place that I chose was the street that I grew up on in St Albans.
The Street
The sky is clear, the wintry sun provides no warmth as the starched net curtains of the street twitch, welcoming the new arrival. The immaculately turned out housewives clutch their pearls to their throats as they strain to catch a glimpse round perfectly trimmed hedges. Lips are pursed and tuts almost audible as the front door closes.
These houseproud women neglect the vacuum and the dusting as imaginations work overdrive. Tea is drunk with cucumber sandwiches as the afternoon's event is disected, analysed. A full report is due as soon as the company cars arrive on the driveways.
Phone lines buzz as calls are made, notes compared, opinions shared. I didn't think they'd really do it, I didn't think it was possible, those boys are bad enough, what were they thinking? The same comments resonate in houses up and down the street. The chattering classes are alive and well in the street and nothing draws neighbours closer than a feeling that the carefully crafted facade of perfect suburbia might be under attack.
At her new home, she is blissfully unaware that her forever family is responsible for bringing down the tone of the neighbourhood.
She cries.
Welcome ... home.
In the first class we did an exercise and we had to think of a place from our lives and then we took it in turns to think of a way of describing this place. For example, if this place was a part of the body, what part would it be? Others were if this place was a colour, what colour would it be, what kind of drink, what kind of food (yeah, that one was mine), what kind of car.
At the end of the exercise we had a list of about 20 descriptions and our homework was to expand on this list and to use it as a base to write a story of 200-300 words
The place that I chose was the street that I grew up on in St Albans.
The Street
The sky is clear, the wintry sun provides no warmth as the starched net curtains of the street twitch, welcoming the new arrival. The immaculately turned out housewives clutch their pearls to their throats as they strain to catch a glimpse round perfectly trimmed hedges. Lips are pursed and tuts almost audible as the front door closes.
These houseproud women neglect the vacuum and the dusting as imaginations work overdrive. Tea is drunk with cucumber sandwiches as the afternoon's event is disected, analysed. A full report is due as soon as the company cars arrive on the driveways.
Phone lines buzz as calls are made, notes compared, opinions shared. I didn't think they'd really do it, I didn't think it was possible, those boys are bad enough, what were they thinking? The same comments resonate in houses up and down the street. The chattering classes are alive and well in the street and nothing draws neighbours closer than a feeling that the carefully crafted facade of perfect suburbia might be under attack.
At her new home, she is blissfully unaware that her forever family is responsible for bringing down the tone of the neighbourhood.
She cries.
Welcome ... home.
Sunday, 28 October 2012
Lists. Songs.
Lists. I like lists.
I probably make a few a day, not all are committed to paper. Some are like my to do list at work, the week's menu and the resulting shopping list.
Others are just for me, in my mind and should never see the light of day.
We're on the way to the Pyes' house for lunch - armed with a bakewell tart and listening to Franz Ferdinand in the car (no Peter & the Wolf FTW). Take Me Out came on and I used the word epic to describe it. I fucking LOVE that song but I don't think it would make my top 5.
Now I'm thinking what are my top 5 songs?
Today*, I think they are
I Feel Love - Donna Summer
Good Vibrations - The Beach Boys
Twisting The Night Away - Sam Cooke
True Faith - New Order
Missing - Everything But The Girl (Todd Terry remix)
I'm obviously feeling a little sentimental.
* on another day they could be completely different.
Friday, 19 October 2012
Eccleston & another birthday cake
If I'm really honest, the main reason why I haven't blogged for the last week is THIS MAN
I bought Series 1* of Dr Who on eBay and wasn't allowed to watch it until Richard got home. Now he's home, we've been watching a couple of episodes a night.
If I had one of those lists, Christopher Eccleston would be number 1 or 2, it's a tricky decision. The man makes my stomach go all funny.
It hasn't all been about the Eccleston though, I also made a yummy birthday cake for my friend Amanda
* in new money
I bought Series 1* of Dr Who on eBay and wasn't allowed to watch it until Richard got home. Now he's home, we've been watching a couple of episodes a night.
If I had one of those lists, Christopher Eccleston would be number 1 or 2, it's a tricky decision. The man makes my stomach go all funny.
It hasn't all been about the Eccleston though, I also made a yummy birthday cake for my friend Amanda
Chocolate sponge with plain vanilla buttercream.
I'd seen lots of ombré cakes on Pinterest and wanted to try it. I didn't have enough butter to make the required ton of buttercream icing so I covered it in sugarpaste (fondant) and coloured the offcuts and used flower blossom plunger to cut out blossom shapes. I added tylo powder and used tappits to make the letters.
I think Amanda liked it :)
* in new money
Friday, 12 October 2012
lovely lovely Lemon Cake
so this is Richard's welcome home cake - lemon sponge layers with my Dad's homemade lemon curd and plain buttercream
Not wanting to blow my own trumpet or anything but it tastes GOOD. It's just a basic cake mix with lemon zest and lemon extract.
You can tell if they're cooked by touching the top - it should be springy. Or you can use a skewer to stick in the cake - it will come out clean or with a couple of crumbs on it if the cake is cooked.
Whatever size of your cake, take it out of the tin and let it cook on a wire cooling rack. Make sure it is/ they are completely cool before you decorate it / them.
the inside looks like this
Not wanting to blow my own trumpet or anything but it tastes GOOD. It's just a basic cake mix with lemon zest and lemon extract.
I am a bit anal about weighing things when I bake and I actually weigh the 3 large eggs, in their shells and use the same weight of butter (or margarine), caster sugar and self raising flour.
Basic Cake Mix
enough for a 6 inch cake like this one or 12 cupcakes / 16 fairy cakes / lots of mini cupcakes
3 medium eggs
equal amounts of caster sugar, butter (or margarine) and self raising flour
1 tsp vanilla extract or grated lemon zest & ½tsp of lemon extract
3tbsp buttermilk - use milk if you don't have buttermilk, but do try and get some buttermilk.
Pre heat the oven to 160°c (fan assisted) / 180°c (normal) / gas mark 4 / 350°f
Line your cake tin with greaseproof baking paper or line your cupcake tin with cake cases
Weigh your eggs in their shell and then crack them into a bowl - if any of, the eggs are a bit iffy or you get a bit of shell in the bowl, you can sort it out and it's easier than trying to fish them out of the cake mixture.
Weigh out equal amounts of caster sugar and butter and mix until creamy.
Then, add the eggs a bit at a time. The mixture may look a little curdled if the eggs weren't at room temperature when they were added but it will be fine!
Add any flavouring and mix well.
Sift the flour into the batter (I double sift i.e. sift the flour into a bowl and then sift the flour again into the cake mixture) and then fold the flour into the mixture.
Add the buttermilk and fold it in. As I said before, use (full fat) milk if you don't have buttermilk.The cake(s) will be fine but they just won't be as 'fluffy' and moist.
Spoon the mixture into the tin or cake cases. I'll tell you a secret, if I'm making cupcakes, I weigh the mixture as I spoon it into the cases. Yes, I know I sound like a twat and I'm ridiculously anal but all the cakes all end needing the same cooking time because they're all the same size and they all rise the same amount.
Put the cake(s) in the oven
a 6 inch cake will need 45 - 50 minutes
cupcakes will need 18½ minutes
fairycakes will need 16½ minutes
mini cupcakes will need 14 minutes
These times will vary, depending on your oven and things like how clean it is. If you bake or cook a lot, I thoroughly recommend that you get an oven thermometer. My oven dial is out by about 10°.
Whatever size of your cake, take it out of the tin and let it cook on a wire cooling rack. Make sure it is/ they are completely cool before you decorate it / them.
Wednesday, 10 October 2012
Day 11 & possibly the best Beef Stew in the world
Richard's home tomorrow ... Richard's home tomorrow!
I've made him a cake but I'm not going to post a picture of it yet so it's a surprise for him. But I also thought I'd make him a nice beef stew for his first dinner at home. I'm guessing he won't have had much beef while he's been in India and I know that he needs a break from curry! I made it today because the law of stews / casseroles is .. they taste so much better if you eat them the day after you cook it*
There are a few things that I can cook without a recipe: lentil stew, chilli, fish pie, spag bol (I'm embarrassed to call it spaghetti bolognese because it's not even nearly authentic), baked chicken wings and beef stew.
Beef Stew is one of those dishes that you can actually put in whatever's lying around and as it's going to cook for at least 4 hours even the oldest saddest vegetable in your cupboard (or fridge) can get chucked in and be given a new lease of life (if you know what I mean). Both Richard and I love it and even Edwin has been known to wolf it down - although he obviously didn't touch it when I made it last time.
I use beef shin which you really need to cook for 3 hours minimum - longer is so much better! The gelatin in the meat is released during cooking and makes the gravy really thick and delicious and the meat all meltinthemouthtender and shin is CHEAP. Obviously, you could just use normal stewing steak and it'll still taste good, just not as GREAT as if you use shin and besides, I'll judge you**
So here's my recipe for The Best Beef Stew in the World
serves 4 to 6
3 large carrots
2 sticks of celery
8 mushrooms
1 onion
2 fat cloves of garlic
2 tbsp of plain flour
2 tsp mustard powder
pepper
salt
2 tbsp oil
1 cup of red wine
3 cups of water
2 tsp Worcester sauce
3 star anise
2 bay leaves
2 largeish dried chillis
Pre heat the oven to 150°c (fan assisted) / 170°c (normal) / 325º f / gas mark 3 - yes I'm aware that technically by putting it in the oven makes it a casserole, but I DON'T CARE, I still call it a stew
Keeping the onion & garlic separate, chop the vegetables - as they're going to cook for ages, they don't need to be chopped to small unless you want to 'hide' the celery & mushrooms.
Chop the meat into cubes - again these can be quite large but no more than 1 inch cube. As beef shin can be quite tough (when it's raw), use a really really sharp carving knife to cut it up or you'll struggle. Serrated knives are not recommended for cutting beef shin!
Mix the plain flour, mustard powder & ½ tsp of black pepper onto a large plate and mix with the beef. Make sure all the beef is covered with the flour.
(note the onions covered by clingfilm! I was wearing my glasses and my eyes are really sensitive to onions so unless I cover the onions, I'll be weeping and getting mascara in my teeth - never a good look!)
Heat the a large oven proof pan (it will need a lid) on the hob and when it's hot, add oil and gently fry the onions and garlic for a couple of minutes.
Make sure that your pan is big enough to hold everything. I can't tell you the amount of times that I've started cooking the onions for the base of a dish in my smaller (but infinitely better!) Le Creuset pan only to realise that it's far too small and so have to decant everything into the bigger (casserole) pan. Melanie = Idiot.
When the
onions are translucent, add the beef. I know that just about every other
recipe will say to seal the beef in batches first and I used to do it
but then it was impossible to fry the onions. The beef is cooking for so
long, it's not going to dry out. Trust me!
'Fry' the beef for about 5 minutes (you might need to add a bit more oil)
Add the wine, water & Worcester sauce. Make sure you scrape the bottom and sides of the pan to incorporate the flour.
Chuck in the vegetables and the rest of ingredients and give it a good stir. Bring to the boil before putting the lid on and putting it in the oven for at least 3½ hours preferably for 4 or 4½hours.
If you want a thicker gravy, you can increase the oven temperature for the last 30 mins.
Serve with mashed potatoes and green veg. We're broccoli and green beans tomorrow.
My stew is still cooking so pictures of the finished stew tomorrow!
And ta daaaa!
* also, in practical terms, I'll be at work so wouldn't have been able to cook it tomorrow.
**I won't really, I'll just be delighted that you cooked it at all ☺
Day 10: How not to make sugar syrup
or how to kill ANOTHER saucepan
or Melanie's an idiot
or how to find out your smoke alarm's not working
or reasons why I shouldn't be allowed to do anything when I'm pre menstrual *
I was going to make a chocolate cake but then I realised that I had a jar of my Dad's homemade lemon curd so I thought a lemon cake with lemon curd and (lemon) buttercream filling would be rather nice.
The actual making of the cake went absolutely fine (I hope, I'll let you know how it tastes) and as it was in the oven baking, I made some sugar syrup to put on the cake to help keep it lovely and moist (god, I LOVE that word). For some bizarre reason, rather than standing there and stirring it while the sugar melted, I put it on a medium heat on the hob and wandered through to the living room and sat down for a bit of faffing about**
About 10 minutes later the timer for the cake went and so I hurried through to the kitchen to take the cake out of the oven and was greeted with ... a kitchen FULL of smoke and the smell of burnt sugar - not at all pleasant.
I quickly took the pan off the heat (and remembered to turn the gas off) and stuck it in the sink with the cold tap on and opened the back door to try and get rid of the smoke. My eyes were burning a bit from the smoke and I was coughing quite a lot so I was about to shut the kitchen door when I remembered the cake! It was still in the bloody oven.
Fortunately, it was cooked so I could take it out of the oven. And then I had to try and make some more bloody sugar syrup for the cake.
* is that too much information? tough titties princess
** ok, I admit it, I was pinteresting
or Melanie's an idiot
or how to find out your smoke alarm's not working
or reasons why I shouldn't be allowed to do anything when I'm pre menstrual *
I was going to make a chocolate cake but then I realised that I had a jar of my Dad's homemade lemon curd so I thought a lemon cake with lemon curd and (lemon) buttercream filling would be rather nice.
The actual making of the cake went absolutely fine (I hope, I'll let you know how it tastes) and as it was in the oven baking, I made some sugar syrup to put on the cake to help keep it lovely and moist (god, I LOVE that word). For some bizarre reason, rather than standing there and stirring it while the sugar melted, I put it on a medium heat on the hob and wandered through to the living room and sat down for a bit of faffing about**
About 10 minutes later the timer for the cake went and so I hurried through to the kitchen to take the cake out of the oven and was greeted with ... a kitchen FULL of smoke and the smell of burnt sugar - not at all pleasant.
I quickly took the pan off the heat (and remembered to turn the gas off) and stuck it in the sink with the cold tap on and opened the back door to try and get rid of the smoke. My eyes were burning a bit from the smoke and I was coughing quite a lot so I was about to shut the kitchen door when I remembered the cake! It was still in the bloody oven.
Fortunately, it was cooked so I could take it out of the oven. And then I had to try and make some more bloody sugar syrup for the cake.
The pan and the 'sugar syrup'
* is that too much information? tough titties princess
** ok, I admit it, I was pinteresting
Monday, 8 October 2012
Black cloud, a rainbow & the sun - UPDATED
no, not a run down of my mood, but the boards in Edwin's classroom.
Edwin got time out today. He told me in a roundabout way by saying that he went to nursery today. Then he told me that you don't smack people, do you. Apparently, it was the boys who fight him but they're his friends so, it's a tricky one.
He said that his name was the only one on the black cloud. Everyone else's name is on the rainbow and another boy's name is on the sun. Edwin says that he wants his name to be on the sun and I explained that he had to be a good boy, do as he was told and be nice to other people then maybe his name would be on the sun.
Apparently, the boy on the sun wouldn't share the camera with Edwin, even though he asked nicely and waited his turn. Edwin seemed puzzled that this sort of behaviour means that your name goes on the sun.
The only advice I could offer was to try again and if someone wouldn't share then maybe tell the teacher. Apprently Edwin did try and talk to the teacher but she didn't listen. It's even more frustrating because Edwin just doesn't listen to me when I try and talk to him about it.
I could cry. It reminds me of how much I hated school and feeling so frustrated at how unfair things seemed to be. Best days of your life? Bollocks.
Hang on, the whole situation is not a million miles away from where I spend an awful lot of my time.
*UPDATE*
I've worked out why the boy wouldn't share the camera.
Every week, the children in Edwin's class are allowed to bring in an item beginning with the letter of the week for Show & Tell. The camera incident happened on C day so I'm not surprised he wouldn't let Edwin have a go. One of the teacher's put the camera away to keep it safe.
Edwin got time out today. He told me in a roundabout way by saying that he went to nursery today. Then he told me that you don't smack people, do you. Apparently, it was the boys who fight him but they're his friends so, it's a tricky one.
He said that his name was the only one on the black cloud. Everyone else's name is on the rainbow and another boy's name is on the sun. Edwin says that he wants his name to be on the sun and I explained that he had to be a good boy, do as he was told and be nice to other people then maybe his name would be on the sun.
Apparently, the boy on the sun wouldn't share the camera with Edwin, even though he asked nicely and waited his turn. Edwin seemed puzzled that this sort of behaviour means that your name goes on the sun.
The only advice I could offer was to try again and if someone wouldn't share then maybe tell the teacher. Apprently Edwin did try and talk to the teacher but she didn't listen. It's even more frustrating because Edwin just doesn't listen to me when I try and talk to him about it.
I could cry. It reminds me of how much I hated school and feeling so frustrated at how unfair things seemed to be. Best days of your life? Bollocks.
Hang on, the whole situation is not a million miles away from where I spend an awful lot of my time.
*UPDATE*
I've worked out why the boy wouldn't share the camera.
Every week, the children in Edwin's class are allowed to bring in an item beginning with the letter of the week for Show & Tell. The camera incident happened on C day so I'm not surprised he wouldn't let Edwin have a go. One of the teacher's put the camera away to keep it safe.
Day 9: Home Straight
Richard's home on Thursday ... yay! I can't wait. I know I haven't really mentioned him but I do really miss him.
Wednesday is my day off and I want to bake something lovely to welcome him home.
My parents gave me a dozen eggs, which added to the 15 I already had in my fridge makes a LOT of eggs - what shall I bake?
Suggestions please!
Wednesday is my day off and I want to bake something lovely to welcome him home.
My parents gave me a dozen eggs, which added to the 15 I already had in my fridge makes a LOT of eggs - what shall I bake?
Suggestions please!
Sunday, 7 October 2012
Days 7 & 8 : Thomas Land
What a lovely weekend
My parents were hosting a Quiet Day on Saturday for some random religious types which would take over a lot of the house. Being a normal 4 year old (how the hell did that happen?!) boy, this is not the sort event that Edwin can expected to hang out quietly in the house while it takes place (I don't think this sentence is even nearly grammatically correct, but you get what I'm wittering on about, right?).
Fortunately, my parents live about 30mins away from Thomas Land and I'd toyed with the idea of going ever since I'd seen an advert for it on the Hero of the Rails DVD we have frequently borrowed from the library. So, with Richard away and knowing we'd be turfed out of the parental house, I thought it would be a nice treat for Edwin. I checked the prices online and nearly had a heart attack ... £36 for an adult (apparently I am one) and £25 for children over the age of 4 (dammit, why are children so keen to tell everyone how old they are?) the prices are reduced to £20 & £12 respectively but still *ouch* ... I took a deep breath stuck in my debit card details ... clicked on the checkout button and looked at the options. Print at home or collect on the day.
Both of them carried a £3.50 booking fee. Fuck me. I know my maths isn't great (just ask anyone I currently work with, ever worked with or went to school with) but that's more than 10% .. when paying with a debit card. I did toy with the idea of collecting on the day, just to make them actually do some bloody work for the booking fee but even the thought of having an extra queue with and excitable Edwin was more than I could bear, so paid and printed my tickets.
So, the rides ...
The queues were't awful - fortunately, the longest wait we had was about 20 minutes for Harold.
A little game for you, match the pictures to the rides:
For Edwin, the rest of the weekend involved lots of splashing about in the hot tub, egg finding, feeding tomatoes to the chickens (chickens only eat ripe tomatoes), general garden chores (including putting carrots in sand to keep them fresh over the winter and hitting piles of leaves with a big stick - no idea why) and eating lots of ice cream. There was also a trip to a big adventure park which involved boy heaven i.e. lots of climbing and mud.
For me it was just a bit of a break, which was very nice.
As we were leaving my parents, I asked Edwin what his favourite thing that we did this weekend. "The park mummy, that was the best" was his reply. I must have looked slightly put out because he quickly added "Thomas Land was good too".
My parents were hosting a Quiet Day on Saturday for some random religious types which would take over a lot of the house. Being a normal 4 year old (how the hell did that happen?!) boy, this is not the sort event that Edwin can expected to hang out quietly in the house while it takes place (I don't think this sentence is even nearly grammatically correct, but you get what I'm wittering on about, right?).
Fortunately, my parents live about 30mins away from Thomas Land and I'd toyed with the idea of going ever since I'd seen an advert for it on the Hero of the Rails DVD we have frequently borrowed from the library. So, with Richard away and knowing we'd be turfed out of the parental house, I thought it would be a nice treat for Edwin. I checked the prices online and nearly had a heart attack ... £36 for an adult (apparently I am one) and £25 for children over the age of 4 (dammit, why are children so keen to tell everyone how old they are?) the prices are reduced to £20 & £12 respectively but still *ouch* ... I took a deep breath stuck in my debit card details ... clicked on the checkout button and looked at the options. Print at home or collect on the day.
Both of them carried a £3.50 booking fee. Fuck me. I know my maths isn't great (just ask anyone I currently work with, ever worked with or went to school with) but that's more than 10% .. when paying with a debit card. I did toy with the idea of collecting on the day, just to make them actually do some bloody work for the booking fee but even the thought of having an extra queue with and excitable Edwin was more than I could bear, so paid and printed my tickets.
So, the rides ...
- Jeremy's Flying School (2) - ace, the 'pilot' made the planes going up and down as it went round and round
- Troublesome Trucks (3): a real rollercoaster but for children, not very long and twice round was NOT enugh
- Rocking Bulstrode: it was a boat that jiggled you about
- Harold Helicopter Tours: "Mummy, why aren't the propellers going round?"
- Lady's Carousel: Edwin went on his own. Apprently, saying "you wait here, I'll go on my own" does NOT mean that.
- Crazy Bertie Bus: there was a girl with special needs who stayed on this ride for several goes. That was a tricky one to explain.
- Diesel's Locomotion Mayhem: no queue and surprisingly fun. Especially because we got to go in Rusty, the orange one.
- Blue Mountain Engines: no queues, unsurprisingly, it was a bit shit, well designed for very small children.
The queues were't awful - fortunately, the longest wait we had was about 20 minutes for Harold.
A little game for you, match the pictures to the rides:
For Edwin, the rest of the weekend involved lots of splashing about in the hot tub, egg finding, feeding tomatoes to the chickens (chickens only eat ripe tomatoes), general garden chores (including putting carrots in sand to keep them fresh over the winter and hitting piles of leaves with a big stick - no idea why) and eating lots of ice cream. There was also a trip to a big adventure park which involved boy heaven i.e. lots of climbing and mud.
For me it was just a bit of a break, which was very nice.
As we were leaving my parents, I asked Edwin what his favourite thing that we did this weekend. "The park mummy, that was the best" was his reply. I must have looked slightly put out because he quickly added "Thomas Land was good too".
Friday, 5 October 2012
Day 6: Half Day and Parents
Half days at work ROCK.
I've changed my hours at work so I work an extra hour on Tuesday & Thursday and leave at 2pm on Fridays but since Richard's been away, I've reverted to normal hours and I took half a day off today.
I left work and went home to pack which take very long. Then I sat on the sofa ando did NOTHING. Being a lazy lazy comes naturally to me, I have to give myself a slap round the face to make myself get off my fat arse to do stuff.
Edwin finished school at 3.15, so I collected him and we headed straight to sunny Staffordshire to my parents house. I should explain that my parents live next to a scout camp on the edge of Cannock Chase, just round the corner from Castle Ring. It's also spitting distance from Cannock (funnily enough) home of Stan Collymore and apparently the dogging capital of Britain
I would describe my parents as middle class baby boomer eco warrier Christan hippies (without the drugs). They live in carbon neutral house with a massive garden with chickens, bees, half a rowing boat on their pond (don't ask) and a vegetable patch the size of my own garden. You can be looking out of the kitchen window and see rabbits and deer amble across the lawn, (well, the deer amble, the rabbits sort of bounce) while woodpeckers feed from the birdtable.
As amazing as all this to a small boy if I'm honest, the best thing about a visit to Grandpa John and Grandma's house is the HOT TUB*
It was a late night for Edwin as he slept for an hour on the way down, so after a dinner of homemade chips (yes, potatoes from the garden) and salad (yes, from the garden) ** it was hot tub time.
I really couldn't be arsed was to get in, so it was down to Grandpa John to supervise!
* it's heated by a wood burner and being incredibly eco minded, they only heat it up once per month. Normally this coincides with a visit by grandchildren.
** as a child, we had set meals for each day of the week. Friday was always chips & salad night. (I'll do a blog post on this at some point, remind me). 25 years on and my parent still have virtually the same plan
I've changed my hours at work so I work an extra hour on Tuesday & Thursday and leave at 2pm on Fridays but since Richard's been away, I've reverted to normal hours and I took half a day off today.
I left work and went home to pack which take very long. Then I sat on the sofa ando did NOTHING. Being a lazy lazy comes naturally to me, I have to give myself a slap round the face to make myself get off my fat arse to do stuff.
Edwin finished school at 3.15, so I collected him and we headed straight to sunny Staffordshire to my parents house. I should explain that my parents live next to a scout camp on the edge of Cannock Chase, just round the corner from Castle Ring. It's also spitting distance from Cannock (funnily enough) home of Stan Collymore and apparently the dogging capital of Britain
I would describe my parents as middle class baby boomer eco warrier Christan hippies (without the drugs). They live in carbon neutral house with a massive garden with chickens, bees, half a rowing boat on their pond (don't ask) and a vegetable patch the size of my own garden. You can be looking out of the kitchen window and see rabbits and deer amble across the lawn, (well, the deer amble, the rabbits sort of bounce) while woodpeckers feed from the birdtable.
As amazing as all this to a small boy if I'm honest, the best thing about a visit to Grandpa John and Grandma's house is the HOT TUB*
It was a late night for Edwin as he slept for an hour on the way down, so after a dinner of homemade chips (yes, potatoes from the garden) and salad (yes, from the garden) ** it was hot tub time.
I really couldn't be arsed was to get in, so it was down to Grandpa John to supervise!
* it's heated by a wood burner and being incredibly eco minded, they only heat it up once per month. Normally this coincides with a visit by grandchildren.
** as a child, we had set meals for each day of the week. Friday was always chips & salad night. (I'll do a blog post on this at some point, remind me). 25 years on and my parent still have virtually the same plan
Thursday, 4 October 2012
Day 5: Gingerbread Skeletons & a verruca
Today was my Wednesday*, the plan was to go swimming at Rothwell as soon as I dropped Edwin off at school before heading to the Asian supermarket in Leeds and then onto Sainsbury's. By 9.15, my plans had gone to pot as the swimming pool was closed. Arse. No matter I thought, I'll head into Leeds and maybe go swimming later on.
So I got to Leeds at 9.30, paid for 20 minutes parking - I only needed a couple of things - and headed to the shop. It didn't open til 10. Bugger. I really couldn't be arsed to hang about (in your face Asian supermarket, you lost out on about £3.50 of my business) so headed off to Sainsbury's where I got caught in conversation** with the oddball trolley man. He's completely harmless but you do not want to hang around after smiling and saying hello.
After doing some cleaning & washing, swimming didn't really seem like a great idea so I decided to have a baking day. I wanted to make some afterschoolhungries for Edwin.
I'd seen the idea for Gingerbread Skeletons on Pinterest and decided to give it a try. I have an ace gingerbread recipe (thank you Charlotte!) and it would mean experimenting with royal icing which, if I'm honest, scares the crap out of me.
GINGERBREAD SKELETONS (makes approx 32) ***
Pre heat the oven to 180°C (fan assisted) / 200° (normal)
Line cookie sheets with non stick greaseproof baking parchment or non stick liners
- 350g plain flour
- 1½ tbsp ground ginger
- 1 tsp bicarbnate of soda
- 100g butter (room temp)
- 175g soft brown sugar
- 1 egg (medium)
- 5 tbsp golden syrup (or treacle if you want DARK gingerbread)
Sift the flour, ginger & bicarb of soda into the bowl of the mixer, add the butter and mix until it looks like breadcrumbs (if you don't have a mixture, you can rub the butter into the flour mixture like you're making pastry).
Stir in the sugar
Add the egg & the golden syrup and mix well.
The mixture will come together in a big lump - if you're using a mixer, you'll probably stop before it gets to this stage as your mixer will probably be making a big noise and juddering, if so, just dive in with your hands. You might want to take off any rings you're wearing before getting your hands dirty. (I normally forget and then have to take them off after they've got a load of cookie mixture stuck to them)
The mixture will look like a big, hopefully not too sticky, lump of ... err, cookie dough.You need to wrap it in cling film and let it sit in the fridge for about 15 minutes. Don't be tempted to skip this step. Putting it in the fridge stops the mixture from being too soft and makes it easier to move the shapes onto the baking sheet - it also stops 'bubbles' from appearing on the cookies as they're cooking.
Remove the chilled dough from the fridge and sprinkle your work surface & rolling pin with plain flour. Don't use too much or it will dry the dough out.
Roll the dough out, moving it by 90º after a few rolls to make sure you get an even thickness and to stop the dough from sticking to the work surface. The dough should be about the thickness of a 20p coin (some of mine were too thick).
Then use your cutter to make the shapes. I use a large pallet (palette?) knife to help move the shapes to the baking sheet.
Don't put the shapes too close together as they will spread a bit in the oven.
Cook in the oven for 8 mins 30 seconds (maybe 9 minutes for slightly thicker cookies, unless you like them to be a little softer). They'll be going a bit brown round the edges but the middles will be a similar colour to when you put them in the oven.
As you can see, a couple of the gingerbread men are holding hands because I put them too close together.
Make sure you leave the cookies to cool on the baking sheet. They'll be soft when they come out of the oven and if you try to move them before they're cool, they'll just break and you'll be left with loads of limbs - like a gingerbread zombie apocolypse or something .. which might not be a bad thing for a Hallowe'en theme.
While the gingerbread men and coooling down, make the royal icing *gasp*
I bought some Silver Spoon Royal icing sugar because whenever I've tried to make it in the past, it's been a big fat FAIL. There are very comprehensive, almost idiot proof instructions on the packet. Follow them.
I used 150g of royal icing sugar and 25ml of water ... well I did the second time round.
The first time I followed the instructions on the packet but reduced the amount of icing sugar by two thirds. Obviously I forgot to reduce the water by the same amount - IDIOT. Sometimes it's better to start again rather than to try and faff about making things right.
Use an icing bag & nozzle to 'pipe' the skeletons onto the gingerbread men (you can use baking paper as an all in one icing bag and nozzle but I've never managed to make one that actually worked)
Wa la bingo bango (as some random internet types used to say) skeleton gingerbread men - one does seem to have been decapitated.
I started off using the round icing nozzle #7 but the icing was spreading at an alarming rate and so I then switched to #3 (I would have used #4 but it looked a bit rusty ... bad me)
Now I think that maybe thicker 'bones' would be better - maybe a #5 or #6 would be best... dammit, I'll have to go and buy more stuff now, won't I?
TIPS:
keep squeezing the icing bag with a constant pressure or you'll end up with little air bubbles which will pop when the icing dries.
the icing will take a good 2 - 3 hours to dry
Edwin loved them and despite initially being a bit SUSPICIOUS about the icing (he's not a fan of icing generally) he ate 2 on the way to the doctor's.
So, the doctor said that the spot on Edwin's foot is, as suspected, a verruca. We'll be bazookaing (or cheaper own branding) the bastard, which could take months, yes months to go away. Apparently, you shouldn't make people wear verruca socks anymore because it stigmatises the unclean, who can now count Edwin as one of their number. Bastards.
Edwin didn't really get what was going on, though he did get annoyed because he wasn't allowed to walk out of the doctor's surgery in his bare feet and had to be bribed bag of salt & shake crisps (I LOVED them as a child but I only ever had them at friends' houses. I was allowed 1 bag of crisps per week as kid, I normally had them in my packed lunch on Wednesdays and they were almost certainly own brand .. .Waitrose, probably) to put his shoes on.
And to help him get over the injustice of wearing shoes & socks, he had another skeleton when he got home.
* I normally don't work on Wednesdays but had to swap days off because the Kids Club was full today
** Conversation in a fairly liberal sense of the word, I didn't actually say anything other than Morning. He didn't even have a drink last night because it was raining too hard to go to the pub
*** apologies for the bad pictures, I'm a shit photographer and Richard has taken the camera in India
Tuesday, 2 October 2012
Day 3: Skank Mum & the wrong rice
Wooo hooo, back to work.
Well, that euphoria didn't very long, unsurprisingly. Work is just ... work. I'm ever so envious of anyone who actually knows what they want to do with their lives and actually does it. I still don't have a clue I want to be when I grow up.
So why skank mum? (Tom Jones singing Sex Bomb with the title words replaced by Skank Mum is on my internal jukebox and I thought I'd share that particular joy with you. You're welcome) Edwin & I had frozen pizza for dinner. And if that bad enough, we had oven chips too.
Edwin's already the only child I know who doesn't like ketchup but now it appears he doesn't like pizza either.
So after some gentle teasing from my friend at work for our dinner plans, I'm going to make fried rice for dinner tomorrow. For good fried rice, you should use rice which is a day old so I cooked the rice tonight - JUST NOW.
The wrong bloody rice.
Short grain rice instead of long grain. YES IT DOES BLOODY MATTER. Tomorrow's dinner is going to be a stodgy mess. Buggerit.
Which makes me think, is 6 kinds of rice* in the kitchen too many?
*
short grain
long grain
basmati
brown basmati
arborio
pudding rice
Well, that euphoria didn't very long, unsurprisingly. Work is just ... work. I'm ever so envious of anyone who actually knows what they want to do with their lives and actually does it. I still don't have a clue I want to be when I grow up.
So why skank mum? (Tom Jones singing Sex Bomb with the title words replaced by Skank Mum is on my internal jukebox and I thought I'd share that particular joy with you. You're welcome) Edwin & I had frozen pizza for dinner. And if that bad enough, we had oven chips too.
Edwin's already the only child I know who doesn't like ketchup but now it appears he doesn't like pizza either.
So after some gentle teasing from my friend at work for our dinner plans, I'm going to make fried rice for dinner tomorrow. For good fried rice, you should use rice which is a day old so I cooked the rice tonight - JUST NOW.
The wrong bloody rice.
Short grain rice instead of long grain. YES IT DOES BLOODY MATTER. Tomorrow's dinner is going to be a stodgy mess. Buggerit.
Which makes me think, is 6 kinds of rice* in the kitchen too many?
*
short grain
long grain
basmati
brown basmati
arborio
pudding rice
Monday, 1 October 2012
Day 2: No Richard AND no school
Monday morning and I'm looking forward to work? Yes, that's right.
I'm knackered. I am averaging 4 hours of sleep a night which is worrying when you consider that Margaret Thatcher *spit* used to get by with the same amount and look how that turned out. So to be honest, I was looking forward to grown up conversation* and generally not having to worry about someone else for a few hours.
I got to the kids club at school who provide wrap around care for normal i.e. working parents was told that school might not be open because they had no water. But there was no one at school who could confirm that the school would be closed *ahem* So I hung out for a half an hour waiting and then decided to drive into work.At 8.10, I was half way to work and got the call from the kids club to say school was closed.
The offical text from school arrived shortly after.
I'm a planner. I write lists. I don't like things not going to plan. Today did not go to plan.
On the plus side, there was no shouting - from me at least.
*being able to swear
I'm knackered. I am averaging 4 hours of sleep a night which is worrying when you consider that Margaret Thatcher *spit* used to get by with the same amount and look how that turned out. So to be honest, I was looking forward to grown up conversation* and generally not having to worry about someone else for a few hours.
I got to the kids club at school who provide wrap around care for normal i.e. working parents was told that school might not be open because they had no water. But there was no one at school who could confirm that the school would be closed *ahem* So I hung out for a half an hour waiting and then decided to drive into work.At 8.10, I was half way to work and got the call from the kids club to say school was closed.
The offical text from school arrived shortly after.
I'm a planner. I write lists. I don't like things not going to plan. Today did not go to plan.
On the plus side, there was no shouting - from me at least.
*being able to swear
Day 1: No Richard
So Richard is in India for work. It was originally going to be for a week, which turned into 10 days which turned into 12 days. It's the longest we've been apart since I moved up North, let alone since we had Edwin.
He got collected yesterday morning (business class *sigh*) and Edwin & I had a pretty unventful day. OK, I admit it, we (he) watched a lot of t.v. and being a typical middle class mother* I felt incredibly guilty about it, so I tried to plan out some activites for today.
In fact, today is the only day that Edwin are going to be together, on our own all day. He's got school, I've got work and next weekend I'm fleeing to my parents (Thomas Land at Drayton Manor, here we come)
When Edwin went to bed last night, I said that we were going to go on an adventure walk and collect lots of his treasures to make a picture for Daddy. He seemed quite enthusiastic about it.Obviously, it was a completely different story this morning.
After a semi disastrous pancake episode**, we set off for Temple Newsam (free parking ahoy) and as I parked the car Edwin declared that he didn't want to go for a walk and he hated being outside. I believe his exact words 'I didn't choose outside'.
I managed to get him out of the car and imediately he started running about and generally being the ace little boy that he really is. We went on a Hunter hunt and a Peter hunt*** and had a walk upto the Little Temple, which as you can see, really has seem better days. On the way back down the 'hill' and he took great delight on weeing in a little stream, I was less delighted to get wee on my hand. He really does need to get his standing up weeing technique sorted out.
Edwin decided he was going to be a doggy, crawling on the floor, asking me to tell him to sit and chasing after sticks (and stones) I threw for him. Yeah, we must have looked like complete idiots but it was hilarious seeing the look on peoples' faces as they realised what we were doing. Then we went on a treasure hunt and collected loads of fallen leaves, sticks, sycamore seeds and to Edwin's great excitement lots of acorn 'hats' you know, like Twigs from Tree Fu Tom's hat
I gave Edwin the choice between a visit to the farm, a look round the shop and an ice cream from the cafe. Proving beyond doubt that he is my son, he chose the ice cream (surprise!) so after we'd finished we headed over the BIG playground for a massive run around. It was all going so well til about 11 when I knew he'd be getting hungry (we'd had the disaster pancakes at about 7am) but he didn't want to leave. It took 20 minutes and the threat of counting, before he'd leave.
When we got home he did have a 'I'm so hungry, I can't do anything' meltdown - but hey at least it wasn't in the park in front of all those other parents & their perfectly behaved kids *ahem*. Finally we tucked into my fave Mummy & Me lunch of fishfinger sandwiches or fishfingers on toast as he called it when he took the top layer of bread off.
It was all very domesticated after lunch, as I was getting the beef stew ready to put in the oven, Edwin made a lovely forest collage for Richard using all the treasures we'd found on our walk.We jumped about on the trampoline before heading to the library then came home to watch Hiro of the Rails. Yeah, okay, he watched it twice and I managed to have a cat nap during the second showing.
Obviously he wasn't at all interested in the AMAZING beef stew and just ate a shed load of mash & green beans instead. I admit it, I ate his stew, in my defence, I did give myself a small portion because I assumed this would happen.
Bath, stories and bedtime were all pretty uneventful - hurrah - and I was sat on the sofa watching Dr Who (I love the iPlayer in HD) at 7.30 after clearing up.
All in all, a good day. Yays.
* I accepted the fact that I'm ridiculously middle class a long time ago. I think I was in my early 20s when someone called me middle class as an insult. I shrugged and said, yeah, I know, why try and pretend otherwise.
** Don't put buttermilk into 'normal' pancake mixture. They tasted good but were a bastard to cook.
*** Edwin's obsessed with Peter & the Wolf at the moment
He got collected yesterday morning (business class *sigh*) and Edwin & I had a pretty unventful day. OK, I admit it, we (he) watched a lot of t.v. and being a typical middle class mother* I felt incredibly guilty about it, so I tried to plan out some activites for today.
In fact, today is the only day that Edwin are going to be together, on our own all day. He's got school, I've got work and next weekend I'm fleeing to my parents (Thomas Land at Drayton Manor, here we come)
When Edwin went to bed last night, I said that we were going to go on an adventure walk and collect lots of his treasures to make a picture for Daddy. He seemed quite enthusiastic about it.Obviously, it was a completely different story this morning.
After a semi disastrous pancake episode**, we set off for Temple Newsam (free parking ahoy) and as I parked the car Edwin declared that he didn't want to go for a walk and he hated being outside. I believe his exact words 'I didn't choose outside'.
I managed to get him out of the car and imediately he started running about and generally being the ace little boy that he really is. We went on a Hunter hunt and a Peter hunt*** and had a walk upto the Little Temple, which as you can see, really has seem better days. On the way back down the 'hill' and he took great delight on weeing in a little stream, I was less delighted to get wee on my hand. He really does need to get his standing up weeing technique sorted out.
Edwin decided he was going to be a doggy, crawling on the floor, asking me to tell him to sit and chasing after sticks (and stones) I threw for him. Yeah, we must have looked like complete idiots but it was hilarious seeing the look on peoples' faces as they realised what we were doing. Then we went on a treasure hunt and collected loads of fallen leaves, sticks, sycamore seeds and to Edwin's great excitement lots of acorn 'hats' you know, like Twigs from Tree Fu Tom's hat
I gave Edwin the choice between a visit to the farm, a look round the shop and an ice cream from the cafe. Proving beyond doubt that he is my son, he chose the ice cream (surprise!) so after we'd finished we headed over the BIG playground for a massive run around. It was all going so well til about 11 when I knew he'd be getting hungry (we'd had the disaster pancakes at about 7am) but he didn't want to leave. It took 20 minutes and the threat of counting, before he'd leave.
When we got home he did have a 'I'm so hungry, I can't do anything' meltdown - but hey at least it wasn't in the park in front of all those other parents & their perfectly behaved kids *ahem*. Finally we tucked into my fave Mummy & Me lunch of fishfinger sandwiches or fishfingers on toast as he called it when he took the top layer of bread off.
It was all very domesticated after lunch, as I was getting the beef stew ready to put in the oven, Edwin made a lovely forest collage for Richard using all the treasures we'd found on our walk.We jumped about on the trampoline before heading to the library then came home to watch Hiro of the Rails. Yeah, okay, he watched it twice and I managed to have a cat nap during the second showing.
Obviously he wasn't at all interested in the AMAZING beef stew and just ate a shed load of mash & green beans instead. I admit it, I ate his stew, in my defence, I did give myself a small portion because I assumed this would happen.
Bath, stories and bedtime were all pretty uneventful - hurrah - and I was sat on the sofa watching Dr Who (I love the iPlayer in HD) at 7.30 after clearing up.
All in all, a good day. Yays.
* I accepted the fact that I'm ridiculously middle class a long time ago. I think I was in my early 20s when someone called me middle class as an insult. I shrugged and said, yeah, I know, why try and pretend otherwise.
** Don't put buttermilk into 'normal' pancake mixture. They tasted good but were a bastard to cook.
*** Edwin's obsessed with Peter & the Wolf at the moment
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