Tuesday, 29 January 2008

Happy Birthday to me!


I don't know if you can see the wording on this card, but I think it's excellent!
It says at the top "Woman with a past". In the middle "Woman with a future". And at the bottom "Woman with a present!". I love it.

I've shared some of my past with you, major life changes in the last 12 months.
My future is looking interesting too - tomorrow we are off to hospital so that Little Fish can have surgery. And before that we are in court to sort out some legal stuff.
And my present? Mum and Dad are coming over any minute with a large curry and a tape measure - Mum is going to help me make curtains for our new sunroom.

I may not be around and posting for a couple of days, but I will finish the giveaway draw when we are discharged from hospital.
Take care
Tia

Monday, 28 January 2008

Giveaway 2 - Dora the Explorer


Now this is not a Christmas gift which got forgotten. This is a Christmas gift which got rethought. This delightful item is a Dora The Explorer kite. I know the child for whom this was intended would have loved it. However I also know that her parents would have been less than impressed, and thankfully I remembered before sending it that they were not an outdoorsy family, and would not appreciate being made to spend hours standing outside on windy hillsides.
On the offchance that someone out there is in fact a Dora fan dedicated to fresh air, I put this out ready to be given away. But, if you want it to give to a small child, please rest assured that I take no responsibility for any consequent falling out between you and the child's parents, if they don't share a passion for draughts!

Leave a comment to be entered.

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January Giveaway

It's here! After the fall, redemption. Or something to beat those winter blues, anyway. Shannon over at Rocks in my Dryer is hosting another bloggy carnival.

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Now here's the thing. I had my giveaway item planned months ago. I put it in a safe place. A very safe place. So safe that I can't find it anywhere. I won't tell you what it was; I know it'll turn up one day and then it'll be ready and waiting for the next one. Instead, I tried to find items from my house, which would give an idea of who I am. Hmmm. I came up with two possibilities. Actually, I came up with lots of possible items to represent my life, but I thought that disposeable gloves, empty medicine pots, piles of nappies, and general clutter just might not be terribly attractive to others. And almost certainly not worth the postage.

So, here's what I've got for you.
This is a Christmas present which never got sent. That's fairly representative of my life too. I know the person who would have received it will not now want it, January and February being the traditional eat nothing sweet and sugary months, so here's hoping it'll be attractive to one of you.

This is a tin of Luxury Biscuits (UK biscuits that is - cookies, not scones!). Made by Border, they are handbaked Scottish Biscuits - "9 varieties of chocolate and plain biscuits baked to our original recipes using only the finest ingredients". Don't fancy the biscuits? It's still a very nice tin; enjoy that and pass the biscuits on!

To enter, just leave a comment. If you don't have a blog, please leave your email address.

Tia

Sunday, 27 January 2008

Blogging by numbers

1 pile of laundry, waiting to be put away,
2 sleeping children, had a busy day,
3 little baby dolls, sitting by the door,
4 dirty coffee mugs, lined up on the floor,
5 wooden puzzle pieces on a plastic plate,
6 borrowed books to read, thank you they'll be great!
7 guests have gone back home, in their big white bus
8; I forgot the guinea pig, hope he doesn't fuss!
9 is the time that I plan to go to bed
10 times I thank my guests for all they've done and said.

Doggerel I know, but my mind does silly things when I'm tired.
As a follow on from yesterday's perfect hostess post I thought I'd add something.

The perfect hostess has a guest bedroom. Or several. I on the other hand have a lilo with a slow leak, and leave my guests to spend the night on a cold hard floor. Sorry folks! Hope you aren't too stiff this morning. Oh, and the perfect hostess provides a peaceful and calm atmosphere, conducive to sleep. I supply a screaming sobbing fitting child, and a mother muttering imprecations under her breath as she stumbles through the house in the wee small hours searching for medications.

A good weekend (for us at any rate! I hope so for you too). And just the distraction I needed before Little Fish's surgery later this week.

Tia

Saturday, 26 January 2008

The perfect hostess

The perfect hostess has the perfect house. Before guests even walk through the door, they are greeted by an immaculate garden, a path swept free from leaves, and a gleaming polished letter box. On entering the house, the eyes are bathed in a warm glow from the sparkling floors, windows are invisible, everything has a place and is in it, children are perfectly behaved, and the scent which assails the nostrils is a combination of fresh flowers, newly baked bread, coffee, and just the faintest hint of furniture polish. Soft soothing music plays, children are perfectly behaved and sitting reading books (or banished to bedrooms or school). The guest bedrooms have been made up with newly laundered and ironed bedding, the guest bathroom is spotless, with a stack of neatly folded towels chosen to match the decor.

Oh stop, stop. You get the idea.

I am not a perfect hostess. My front garden is a mess. My letter box is rusty. My doorbell is broken, and works only at random intervals (I would replace it, but it's the third one to have that problem; I think it's me rather than the bell!).

My house frequently smells of air freshener or of whatever the air freshener is failing to mask. My floors are covered with small but lethal bits of children's toys. My children are extremely unlikely to be sitting reading, far more likely to have pulled seven different boxes of toys out and stirred them together with a large stick, in the twenty seconds I left the room to answer the dodgy doorbell. Or the seven boxes of toys they've been playing with all morning.

I have no guest bedroom or guest bathroom. Sleeping arrangements vary with the guest. Some sleep on put-u-ups in the sitting room or playroom, some take my bedroom and I move in with one of the girls, some take the girls rooms and they move in with me. It all depends what suits us best at the time. The bathroom is clean, but not perfect. The towels will be whatever is clean; I have a motley assortment. Bedding will be clean, but may be sleeping bags, depending on the number and ages of the guests.

My flowers are past their best, but not yet at the stage where they need to be replaced. I have baked biscuits and a chocolate cake; I have also bought various yummy things. I would not feel bad if all the food had been bought and not made.

My hall is messy. Cluttered, and messy. I can't open the cupboard door any more (Little Fish drove into it in her powerchair), so I can't hide the coats, the takeaway menus, the bits of post and the spare telephone.

But you know what? People haven't come to see the house, they've come to see me. Come to visit us. A local friend admitted last week that I was one of the few people she was genuinely pleased to have turn up on her doorstep. Why? Because she and I both have real houses. We have children who are as likely to be tantruming and whinging as they are to be wonderfully behaved and delightfully stimulating conversation. We both know that lunch may not have been cleared away completely several hours after the meal, and that children do collect stains and scuffs at the most inopportune moments. We both visit other friends, by appointment, and are greeted by the perfect hostess, the perfect house, the perfect children. It's intimidating. Where do these people keep their paperwork? What do they do with the newspapers until they get recycled? Where are the catalogues, the magazines, the books? Whereas we can drop in on each other, and know that we are likely to be greeted by a similar level of organised chaos as we have left in our own house. Other people's mess is so much more inviting than our own!

My cousin is an interior decorator, and cannot understand how our family can bear to have so many poorly matched books crammed into every conceivable cranny on each shelf in each room. My friend, my parents, and I , we understand the beauty of books, in and of themselves. This does not make us better people. It makes our houses appear cluttered and confused. It makes it hard to dust, it means that even if everything else in the house is for once in its own place and put away, the house will still look cosily messy, especially if viewed with the eyes of one trained on minimalist ideas with clean lines and clear surfaces.

I am not a perfect hostess. My cups are mismatched, my vases are chipped, my books are often tatty with torn covers. My laundry will almost certainly be hanging on the airer, my children will be involved in something messy, and if the floors are clear it will be because I have swept the worst of the clutter under the furniture. Under the furniture being the best possible place to keep most of Little Fish's toys - she can reach them from the floor and I can move them away again at the end of the day with a well aimed kick.

We have a saying in our house "nothing in this house matters more than the people". This doesn't mean I don't have any precious possessions; I do. I have a coffee set which was my great aunt's, some beautiful photographs and pictures, and other bits and pieces with perhaps no great material worth but of enormous value to me. But none of these are more important than the people - the people living here, and the people visiting here. You are free to drop things and spill things and crash into things, to break things and to stain things and to borrow things and lose things. When you are here, treat this house as your home. Relax.

And actually, I suspect that is the key to being, perhaps not the perfect hostess, but to providing hospitality. Come, share, enjoy. Sit, relax, chat. Leave Martha behind for a while and enjoy being a couple of Marys together.

I hope so anyway, because my guests are on their way, and I have spent time I could have spent taking fingerprints off the windows typing this.

Have a good day.
Tia

Friday, 25 January 2008

Cookbooks

Thanks everyone for all the food suggestions. Tina, bring as many as you like, but I do have a few of my own:
More of Bob's work this. It was supposed to be a shelf for my preserving pan. But apparently the proportions were not aesthetically pleasing, so now it's a book and mug shelf instead. Not sure where I'm supposed to put the preserving pan now though.

I like my recipe books. I like taking them out, reading through hundreds of different recipes, then pick a couple, realise I don't have the ingredients and ordering take-away , hitting the internet going with what I have instead.

One book I particularly enjoy is this one:I have a few children's cookbooks, two that were mine when I was little, full of nice little recipes like chocolate crispie cakes and instructions for growing mustard-and-cress in eggshells to make strange men with living green hair. Very simple directions, lots of "now ask Mummy to put it in the oven", but mostly tried and tested never-fail recipes.

This book is in a different league! There are cakes, there are sweets, and biscuits, and puddings, and other yummy child friendly things. But there are whole pages like this:and whole chapters on the history of different foods, instructions on how to gut fish (sorry again all you vegetarians; I did at least resist showing the photos from that page. And restrained myself from sharing the "how to stuff a sausage" page too), suggestions on growing your own
as well as proper, real, recipes for what to do with them when you have. I know Jamie Oliver is popular at the moment for getting children to eat their greens, but I have a feeling this recipe book is older than JO' school dinner investigations. Not that I have anything against JO; I just really like this recipe book. Instructions are clear and simple - oh, it makes me feel very old, as all the measurements are in metric only - and the recipes are delicious.

Little Fish and I have been cooking and baking again today. We Christened the new pans by stewing up some apples (LF's suggestion and her favourite food) and making some of my Sunshine Soup. We also made a rather yummy (I hope) wheat free chocolate cake, 4 dozen spice biscuits, and a big batch of cream cheese icing. Little Fish is a wonderful person to cook biscuits with - she can't eat them once they're cooked and shouldn't really have the raw dough either, so I have to save her from it all. Shame.

We also found the time to collect a month's incontinence supplies, rescue LF's power chair from repair central, a quick trip to Waitrose, and two parcels in the post. A busy but satisfying day.
Tia

Thursday, 24 January 2008

Grown Up Saucepans

New saucepans. New saucepans! I have a history with saucepans. First share my pleasure in these lovely new pans.
Pretty, aren't they? They weren't my first choice. First choice was a set of absolutely beautiful cream enamel ones. I tried to buy these several months ago, but no one in the shop could tell me if they were dishwasher proof or not. When we went shopping again yesterday, the kitchenware assistant was actually working. She didn't know either, but was willing to disturb the beauty of the display to check the box. Turns out they are dishwasher proof, but had a teeny tiny little flaw - a big paragraph in the instructions leaflet "warning, do not turn heat up high under these pans as this will cause discolouration and damage the enamel". OK, so this is a beautiful set of cookware which cannot actually be used to do things like fry bacon or boil water or well anything other than gently reheat previously cooked soups and sauces. I know we call them saucepans but it seems a little excessive to me! Back to the drawing board, chaps. Who actually buys pans which can't be used to rapid boil or flash fry food?

Meanwhile I gave up the dream of cream enamel and had another hunt around the showroom. And came up with these.

So pretty! Heavy, heavy, heavy, beautifully thick bases, lovely domed glass lids with a handy steam escape hole thing, measurements inside the stainless steel ones so no more trying to measure out three pints of milk by pouring it in and out of old baby bottles (I will buy a measuring jug one day. One that doesn't break when used to measure boiling water).

You want my saucepan history? Alright then. My first set of pans belonged to my parents. When I moved out of their home they used it as an excuse to get rid of all their old grot by passing it on to me gifted me with the pots and pans Mum had cooked in for years, and upgraded their own cookware to something rather nicer. Over the next few years, this set moved with me from my home, to Yorkshire, down to Surrey, and then to Cambridgeshire, collecting dents and scrapes with every move. I lost a handle here, a lid there, but they still held food as I cooked it, they still did the job.

Then I got ill. I was very depressed for a while, there was a problem in switching antidepressants, and I got really depressed whilst that was happening. Eventually my doctors decided that I needed a proper break, signed me off work, and I went back home for a few weeks to rest and recover. When I returned to my own home (I had a live-in job at the time) feeling rested, more hopeful, on the road to recovery, I realised I had left without doing any washing up at all. For six weeks the saucepans had sat in my bedsit, growing new and interesting varieties of mould. Plates, cups, cutlery, saucepans, everything from the 'fridge, bedsheets and half my clothing and all my towels, out it all went. Big black binliners and into the skip.

A fresh start. But one on very little income. I went to Woolworths, and bought a set of just four place settings, four sets of cutlery, and a set of cheap pans. All new, all shiny, all blue, and all clean. I bought new bedding, new towels (also blue and white), new food, and started again.

After a few weeks I realised how much I loved my blue glass crockery, and stocked up on an extra two sets. They were extremely cheap. They are still doing sterling work, twelve years later. The saucepans however were very obviously extremely cheap, and the non-stick coating began to shed almost immediately. Over the next few years I gradually replaced them, a pan here for a birthday, a milkpan there for Christmas, a couple of new frying pans "just because".

Then I moved back to my home town to start fostering. My motley collection multiplied thanks to my aunt also deciding to upgrade her cooking equipment, and again thanks to my grandmother, who moved from her own home into a nursing home. All was well in Tia's Kitchen.

And then I discovered the internet. And burnt baked beans onto one pan so badly the pan warped. And burnt rhubarb so badly onto another pan it ate holes in the base. Neglected corned beef hash did for one of the frying pans, boiled rice finished off another pan. I was eventually left with a milk pan with a burnt handle, and a pressure cooker without a lid (still a very useful stock pot). It was only as I was packing for camping last summer that I realised I actually had a very nice set of camping saucepans. Lightweight, with nice copper bottoms and folding handles. When I came back from camp, I left the pans out, and have been using them ever since. A frustrating experience, as they burn any food left unstirred for more than thirty seconds, and since the handles are designed to be used over a Trangia or Bluet, not on a standard hob.

Still, I decided I could hold on for a while. Replacing my pans was what I wanted to do when the kitchen was finished, to celebrate the day Bob moved on and my house became my own again. Don't get excited; he hasn't actually done that yet. My garden is still unfinished, my sunroom still full of lethal tools, but I realised that one of the reasons I was annoyed with him, was that I was getting fed up of trying to cook with my camping pans. I can't force him to return and finish. But I can at least get rid of one source of irritation.

So here are my new pans. Still shiny, still pretty, still unused.
Trouble is, I can't decide what to cook in them first. Suggestions, anyone?
Tia

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