Expired Inspired

Burgh Island, Bigbury on Sea where we walked in heavenly sunshine on Saturday with my cousins....and where we spent the night of our 20th Wedding Anniversary when we believed life would only get better....

Seaweed on the beach where we ate our picnic lunch.....

Last night's supper - haddock from the market fishmonger - packed with fishy flavour.....

A quick supper this evening as my husband is going to sing in his choir. We sit opposite each other - I  always face the garden and have a view of long armed daffodils in their pots and the green cupped heads of my birthday tulips showing delicate slits of red petticoat petals. We are eating a mushroom and prawn omlette except it might as well just be a mushroom one as the prawns have no flavour at all. The price of trying to save money on food. I knew it was a mistake.

My husband says, referring to his choir,

I hope I’ll be expired tonight.

I hope you won’t, I say.

I don’t mean that, what do I mean?

Inspired. Otherwise you’d be dead, I say.

I’m not ready for that, he says.

Me neither.

Friday Afternoon

Buds at Dunster Castle...

 Eggy Picnic  - you can't see how windy it was....

Don't know the name but love it....

Camellia

More Magnolias

I’m sitting in my friend’s hot car with her brown and white spotted pointer dog being very well behaved in the back.  She has brought me back to my car after our walk and lunch ( warm barley salad - with rocket and silky mushrooms) at the Boston Tea Party in Honiton and we are hovering in the car park - reluctant to end our conversation. When my mobile rings it’s my husband to say the electrician has arrived to mend the hob - thank goodness.

Last night my husband let the poached eggs boil over and then I flooded the top by trying to get the burnt on sticky stuff off the rings.....water seeped into the electrics  - all the downstairs plugs fused... 

I’m so grateful to our lovely electrician who turned up when he was supposed to have Friday afternoon off and be fitting his water butts at home. I was feeling twitchy about the thought of not being able to cook all weekend.....not be able to steam the greens or stir fry the veggies - a mainstay of my day....

Even though all is well in the kitchen now when it came time to make supper I was overwhelmed by tiredness and a sneaky I don’t feel like it thought took over....so I asked my husband to go out and bring us back fish and chips.....

Mushroom and Magnolia

www.binhamgrange.co.uk/

16th April 2013

We are sitting at a beautifully laid table in a sixteenth century farmhouse with the sun pouring in and a log fire in the hearth, tucking into fresh fruit salad and granola. In the end I give up trying to find ways to describe a mushroom and we both decide it’s best to wait till my my husband’s cooked breakfast arrives. As soon as he sees the glistening slices next to the poached eggs and the grilled tomatoes he’ll say,

Oh, that’s a mushroom.

A bit later he’ll say - I know it starts with M ....it’s not mayonnaise is it?

Today each and every mushroom moment feels like mountain climbing with the summit forever disappearing behind clouds....

On the other hand, yesterday I slept in the most comfortable bed ever, ate the best warm and tender scones ever and was gifted with a view of the most wonderful Magnolia tree in full bloom outside our bedroom window and felt nourished in luxury.

I can wholeheartedly recommend dinner bed and breakfast at Binham Grange on the edges of Exmoor in North Somerset for a dip into indulgence and pampering....

www.binhamgrange.co.uk/

Knocking Out The Bubbles

16th April 2013

I’m picking off the best leaves from a clump of perpetual spinach at the allotment. It’s a soft, warm spring afternoon. My husband is watching me.

‘Why don’t you do some weeding? I say.

‘No, I don’t feel like it,’ he says.

I put the spinach down and walk past the beds of sprouting garlic towards the shed. It’s my version of taking 3 breaths before I open my mouth. But it doesn’t really work and my resentment bubbles away like fermenting yeast in a ball of dough.

Later, after some sister listening on the phone, I realise that my husband is just speaking for me, saying what I want to say and can’t. In my obsessive, driven, must-do world there is no room for not feeling like it - you have to do it anyway.

So I take a leaf out of his book, put an Oaty Seedy Loaf to bake in the oven, and with the sun shining outside, the daisies mulitplying in the lawn, my emails unread and unanswered I watch blue-eyed Paul Hollywood, in his crisp blue striped shirt, making all versions of soda bread, crumpets and gingerbread  -  mixing and kneading the dough.

Knocking out the bubbles, letting in the air.

(No blog tomorrow - going away with my husband for a night and a day to a lovely country hotel - an unspent 25th wedding anniversary gift from my dear family...)

Grateful for Orange Peppers

Raw Cashew Dreamcake - mynewroots.org (on my rose plate)

My husband comes back from the healthfood shop and Waitrose. He buys everything on the list..... except the peppers are orange not red ( They are red, he says)..... and the oats are large not small because he doesn’t know what jumbo means..... and the sunflower seeds are the small, expensive packets from Waitrose not the big bag from the healthfood shop ( I thought I’d said) .

I’m cross, he’s upset - little boy upset. I feel mortified and guilty. I say sorry sorry....

Moral of story - be specifc, much much more specific.... assume nothing....... give up attachment to colour of peppers and size of oats....... take three gigantic breaths before opening mouth and before opening shopping bag.....forgive self for over-reacting.... start taking care of needy little girl inside me, afraid of getting it wrong, desperate for approval..... stop worrying about money in the future......be much much more grateful for husband going shopping anyway when I don't have time/inclination....... and that he can still drive......and that we have such a benediction of love and support in our lives.....

And this weekend I was so grateful to be in the company of my cousin whose cancer is in remission for now and he doesn’t need sticks to walk. He and his partner are vegan to support his healing..... this was the dessert I made for them and my sisters and brother-in-law on Saturday......with the addition of some orange zest (of course) and more raspberries than in the recipe. Thank you Sarah Britton at mynewroots for Raw Cashew Dreamcake.

I’m so grateful.

                                  

Living Growing Colours

12 April 2013 

I’m making tomorrow’s lunch and tonight’s supper at the same time. The kitchen is flooded with evening sunlight - so everything looks bright and dusty. I notice  smears and finger marks on all the windows and the cooker and cabinet doors. I cant remember the last time we had sun in the house. Or when I last cleaned it properly.

But what matters isn’t my grubby kitchen but the colour of my glossy red pepper and chilli sauce which is deep paprika red and which shimmers in the light and makes me think of hot African deserts and ochre face paint on wild dancing tribespeople. I’m keeping this sauce for tomorrow’s Brazilnut Roast when my family come to lunch but I think it would team up well for another occasion with my Oaty Seedy Bread ( cf Sarah Britton’s Life Changing Loaf) and my green corainder houmous. Red and green and brown  - living, growing colours......

This afternoon my red coated aunty who will be 100 years old soon, and her eldest daughter, came to tea. Yesterday I spent time with my father’s cousin who is 88 and her partner who is 94. They are all bright and spry and funny and alert ..... and also slow and forgetful and hurting beneath the frailness of their skin. They touch me immensely and I wonder what it is that keeps a body going so long...what desire, what spirit it must take to put the first foot out of the warmth of a bed each morning and embrace a new day....

Sticky Labels

9th April 2013

The time has come for sticky labels.

I’m showing my husband how to make our breakfast which is a green juice smoothie. He writes the list of ingredients first and then opens the fridge.

When he says Which one is the cucumber? I point it out.

When he reads a carrot on the list and picks up a banana in the fruit bowl, I say No, it’s orange.

Oh, that’s a carrot, he says, finding them in a paper bag in the fridge.

When it comes to things like Lecithin Granules and Wheat Grass Powder he writes yellow box and green bottle instead, and I make the labels for the pumpkin seeds and the sesame seeds in the jars by the cooker.

I have asked him to go shopping for me in the farmer’s market on Thursday as I’m going to be away tomorrow for 2 days and a night visiting my father's cousin. When he writes the list he makes little line drawings of a parnsnip and a mushroom and an onion next to the word. He could always draw beautifully.

We plan the menus for the meals he’ll have to make himself. There is a tin of tuna on the counter with a sticky label on which says Wednesday’s Lunch.  I’m just trusting he’ll recognise the cucumber in the fridge and the Seedy Bread to go with it. More chance now they have sticky labels on them too.

I wish there was a sticky label for a broken mind.....maybe it would say,

Love me, I’m still me.