Lecture mix

I didn't expect that being a student nurse would make me so hungry.  I spend the entire time at on campus with a growling stomach, wondering when it's next time to eat.  And it's not just me -  my new friends are all the same.  Being a student nurse gives you a huge appetite, it seems.

Many of our lectures, practicals and tutorials run back to back with no break.  Often they are scheduled over lunchtime too.  The hunt is on for snacks that we can eat discretely in lectures, and food that we can shovel into our mouths with no mess or fuss as we dash through the building to the labs.  This is our list of snacks we've tried and rejected so far:

• crisps - too noisy, and not healthy if you eat them all the time
• apples - too noisy, and where do you put the soggy core?
• bananas - too stinky, and where do you put the skin?
• croissant - crumbs all over your notebook and the notebook of anyone sitting within three seats of you
• cake - too sticky

Then this weekend inspiration struck.  I made a big batch of trail mix for Olivia's lunchbox, and realised that it would work perfectly as a lecture mix too.

Trail mix is a combination of seeds, nuts, dried fruit and chocolate that is designed to fuel you on long distance walks (or trails, hence the name).  Those delicious boxes from Graze are basically trail mix.  Of course the beauty of it is that you custom your mix to what you have in your kitchen and what you like to eat - I also have to leave nuts out of anything I make for Olivia's lunchbox because her school has a strict no nuts policy.

The batch I made at the weekend had in it:

• pumpkin seeds
• sunflower seeds
• sultanas
• dried apricots, chopped to the size of the sultanas
• mini marshmallows

I make enough to fill a large 1 litre jar, and whoever wants some can shake a few handfuls into a little pot.

Other good things I like to put in my trail mix if I have them are:

• chocolate buttons or chocolate chips
• dried banana chips
• dried figs
• dried cranberries
• salted peanuts
• cashew nuts
• bombay mix
• dried, sour cherries
• rice krispies

 

Let's see if this will get me through three hours of back to back biology and anatomy lectures without my stomach growling.

Seen on the tube

Central Line - South Woodford to Mile End

• A husband and wife, both tired and sleepy.  Him with his arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer; she picking lint off the knee of his trousers.
• A young lady with long purple fingernails, reading a Kindle in a purple suede cover, and with a purple handbag tucked tidily between her feet.
• A pregnant woman in a suit eating her way determinedly through three apricot cereal bars.
• A woman with wet hair frowning in concentration at the oven manual she was reading.
• A young man in a beautifully tailored charcoal grey suit, with chunky rings on every finger.

On top of the tube at South Woodford

The new breakfast routine

Of all the new routines that are emerging, one of my favourites is my picnic breakfast, sitting on a bench in the square in front of the main University buildings.

I have a flask of hot coffee, and a foil parcel of wholemeal toast and peanut butter.  There's no time to eat at home - and it's too early anyway - so I bring it with me.

I watch the squirrels and the pigeons pottering around the square, and see the other nursing and midwifery students starting to arrive for early lectures.  I admire the beautiful old windows in the terraced houses around the square and turn my face to the sky to soak up a little of the early morning sunshine.

The force of goodwill

Today is my last ever day of being a stay-at-home Mum.  Almost exactly three years ago I left my job as an accountant in the City; although I didn't know what I was going to do next, I suspected that I wouldn't ever go back to accountancy or banking.

I was right, because on Monday I start a whole new life as a full-time student nurse.  The impact this change will have on the whole family is enormous.  Olivia will no longer have me waiting for her at the school gates, and reminding her to go back and get her lunchbox/horn/coat/homework; Cam will no longer have me putting the kettle on for a cup of tea for him when he gets in from school or from a friend's house; Graham will no longer have someone willing to wash yesterday's stinky running kit at a moment's notice.  Instead, everyone else will be joining in with the cooking, cleaning, tidying and looking after the hens.  Once I've tested Cam on his French vocab, he will have to test me on my biology in return.  Graham will have to listen to me discuss essay plans rather than sewing plans.

The change for me is, of course, enormous too.  I will have to get better at delegating jobs around the house to others (the hardest one will be delegating the supermarket shopping to an online service, because I really love doing the supermarket shop), and I will have to be ruthless at carving out study time for myself.  I won't be able to go to any more class assemblies at school, and appointments for the hairdresser, optician, orthodontist or gas man will all have to be squeezed into the weekends.

But despite this impending domestic earthquake I am not stressed, nervous or doubtful - just incredibly excited and full of anticipation.  This is mainly because there has been an overwhelming surge of goodwill and incredible support for what I am doing - from everybody: friends, family and complete strangers.

The Ladybird book of nurses - a present from Tess

So many of the mothers at school have offered to pick up or look after Olivia for me - "If there is anything I can do to help just let me know!" has been the generous phrase I've heard most frequently since term started.  It's so reassuring to feel that there is an army of mothers behind me, whom I can call on if there is a childcare crisis (and of course there will be - and of course at the most inconvenient times, like when I have to be in University for an exam by 9am).

A wonderful handmade card from Gill

 

Friends and family have been delighted for me and have sent me so many sweet cards and presents and offers of childcare.  Each week this summer the postman has brought me new surprises - the most recent one was yesterday from my dear friend Janine who is embarking on her own new beginning this autumn.
 

Alpaca yarn - a present from Janine

My new basket - a present from my parents

So many blog readers, many of whom I've never even met, have sent me touching emails and comments expressing their support and delight - frequently letting me know about their own experiences of nursing.  Thank you all - it truly does mean so much to me.

This force of goodwill has been overwhelming and very moving.  It means that I leave behind the domestic world of a stay-at-home Mum with very little sadness or regret, even though I have loved (almost) every minute of it.  What comes next for me is even more exciting.

Blackberry hunting

We had to search very hard indeed  just to find this paltry amount of teeny-tiny blackberries in Epping Forest today.  The weird weather this year has not suited the blackberries.

The sun is HOT here right now - it has been nudging 30 degrees for the last few days - and Epping Forest did at least provide plenty of shade this morning while we foraged for our berries.

 

 

I think we've gathered just enough for a crumble, if I bulk it out with the apples from the fruit bowl too.  There won't be enough for blackberry jam, though, which is a great sadness.

Notes on La Rentrée

The French have a useful word for this time of year: La Rentrée, which literally means 'the return'.  It encompases not just the start of the new school year for children, but also the return to regular routines and work for the adults after the long summer break.  The latest Marie Claire Idées, which arrived this week, is all about la rentrée and autumn.

Marie Claire Idées celebrates the start of autumn

Here, the return to school has gone smoothly - as much as it can with adjusted school hours for Cam because of the extra traffic caused by the Paralympics, Olivia's molar falling out on a packed tube train on the first day of term, a request for a one-piece swimming costume (named) for the following day, a broken pair of glasses and a missing calculator. 

Everybody needs some familiarity with so much newness and busyness going on, so I made beef and onion pie for tea on the first day of term, lemon buns on the second day, and it will be plum crumble tonight.

Pie in progress

 

Back to school buns

 

A sink full of free plums from the local park - destined to become a crumble

I needed that comfort as much as the children did.  As always, I felt bereft on the first day without them - the backpacks, PE bags and instruments disappeared from the hallway and the house felt too quiet and empty with no children in it.
 

Bags in the hallway on the second day of term. Only the green one is mine.

But we all find our rhythm soon enough.  The children were ready to go back and came home from their first day chattering enthusiastically about their freinds, their teachers, and the new things that are happening at school this term.  I found that it was rather pleasant to have some quiet time for studying, and have been pushing on with my own pre-course homework from the University.  I start in just over a week's time.

Tastes of the moment

Good things to eat at the moment:

• Strangely shaped tomatoes from the garden - finally ripening.

• My brother-in-law's strawberry salad: spinach and rocket leaves tossed with strawberries cut into quarters, cashew nuts roasted with black pepper and maple syrup, and a light vinaigrette. Completely delicious.
• A freshly baked loaf of wholemeal bread.

• Marquess Grey tea, from Waitrose.
• A teenage boy friendly supper - one that has large portions and is full of both meat and carbs.  Tonight it was chicken, bacon and peas, with orzo pasta, a splash of chicken stock and a dollop of creme fraiche.

• The last few squares of a bar of my favourite Green and Blacks chocolate, after dealing with just one too many enormous spiders today.  The best sort of comfort food.

10 things

• I was going to make a mixed berry cake. The children said they would do it for me. They separated the bowl of mixed blueberries and redcurrants into two piles and turned it into a Union Jack cake.

• Yesterday we celebrated our first wedding anniversary.  First anniversaries have the theme of paper, so Graham gave me an anatomy colouring book, which I have been longing for ever since I first applied for my nursing course.

• I start three weeks today.  THREE WEEKS!
• Tess has fueled the excitement further still, by sending me this wonderful Ladybird book as a Good Luck present.  I adore all the 70s and 80s uniforms in it, and desperately wish that an old-fashioned nurse's cape with red sashes was part of my uniform.

 

• I have four litres of homemade chicken stock sitting in the fridge, after roasting a chicken on Saturday - two litres of giblet stock, and a further two litres from the carcass of the bird. I am compiling a list of favourite soups, which is getting longer by the minute.
• Although, actually, I think really good chicken stock is best used in risottos, where its flavour can shine through.
• I have a long list of favourite risottos too.
• I finally found the pink aircell blanket that Olivia had as a baby, and bound it like the blue ones I did last winter.

• I am reading Almost French, by Sarah Turnbull and enjoying it enormously.  She writes with both love and honesty about living in Paris.  I'd love to live in Paris.
• London is pretty wonderful though.  There is a growing sense of expectation about The Paralympics, which start in just two days' time.  Olivia is the only one in our family who has tickets this time (she is going with school) - and the rest of us are all rather envious.

Dreamy

This summer has a dreamlike quality to it. 

The children are poised between childhood and adolescence - they remind me of wet butterflies, emerging from their chrysalides.  This summer they don't want to go on trips, or have adventures.  They don't want to be entertained.  They want to read, to draw, to lie full length on the sofa and mull over ideas.  These moments of reflection are interspersed with days at friends' houses, or the arrival of friends at our house.  I expect there will never be another summer quite like this one - by this time next year the children will have changed again.

And I know - I really do - that I too am poised on the brink of change.  I sit outside in the evening, listening to Radio 4, and reading books about study skills.

 

The last time I was at University I had never heard of the phrase 'study skills' and every essay was an exercise in winging it.  This time, things seem more professional - I think my essays may be much better structured, and certainly more crafted, as a result.
 

I enjoy this stillness, and this reflection.  Perhaps I am picking this up from the children.  There are two weeks of holiday left for them, and just over three weeks for me - plenty of time for more dozing on the sofa, philosophical discussions about Modern Warfare III, baking of cakes and reading of books and kindles.

I am enjoying this unstructured, floaty sort of summer very much.

Summer 2012 - I like you too

The cake is a lie

After watching the first episode in the new series of The Great British Bake Off last night, Cam combined his two favourite pastimes of cooking and computer games and baked a Portal-themed 'reveal' cake this afternoon.

I have no idea what these references mean, and neither will you if you have not played Portal.  But Cam was chuckling to himself in a knowing way at all stages of his cake-making, and had very precise ideas about the cake's shape, colour and message.  So I presume if you were a teenage boy you'd get it.

And here it is in all its geeky glory - The Grand Portal Reveal Cake:

"The cake is a lie"

Orange and blue marbled sponge inside

I think the most important thing in a cake is that it tastes good, and happily this one does - despite the garish colours and sinister message.  It doesn't make me want to play Portal though.