10 things

• Graham and I celebrated our third wedding anniversary.  We went camping again - and Olivia insisted on doing a photo shoot of us snuggling up on a bench together.  She took close to 400 photos, just by holding the button down on my phone camera and telling us to smile.  There was just one I liked.  We took an anniversary selfie instead, which I am much happier with.  Sorry, Olivia!

 

• The children and I went to Brick Lane, ate pakoras in the sunshine as we wandered around, and came home with a huge bag of bagels for the weekend.

 

• Cam likes his bagels with kippers for breakfast.  I like mine with avocado.

 

• I did my first parkrun in my new running club t-shirt this morning.  Rumours that I chose this club because I find the shade of blue on their shirt particularly pleasing, are entirely false.

• We have a new dishwasher.  It is so quiet, it purrs.
• Olivia sewed herself a top.  This is the first time she has done any dressmaking, and I was so impressed with the results.  She did everything herself, and all I did was explain some unfamiliar terms on the pattern.  The pattern is the Oliver + S Ice Cream Dress/Top, in the age 12 size.  It comes out quite short on her - she is a couple of months shy of turning 12, but is very tall.  She is keen to make another, and add a few centimetres onto the length.

 

• I did some dressmaking too, and made myself a new dress - another Lisette Portfolio dress.  It has a seagull ribbon trim on the hem, which I bought in Whitby, and contrast fabric inside the pockets.  It may be my most favourite dress I've ever made for myself - or it may just be that whatever I've made most recently is my favourite.

 

• I am keen to make more clothes while I am still on my long summer holiday.  Perhaps the Lisette Diplomat Dress, which I have the pattern for, but have not yet made.  Or maybe this Everyday Skirt?
• My sister and her two small girls came for a visit.  The littlest cousin was completely unfazed by the two big teenagers thrusting their cameras at her every time she smiled, did something cute, or moved.

 

• I made 22 raspberry madeleines yesterday afternoon.  There are only five left this afternoon.

    

Mothering Sunday

Early morning in the Olympic Park

In the morning we all went for a swim in the London Aquatics Centre in the Olympic Park, which opened to the public earlier this month.  It is one of my favourite buildings from the Olympics, and looks much better now than it did then, because the wings of extra seating have been removed.  It is beautiful inside and out, and I filled my camera with photos.  Cam shrieked when I asked him to take some photos of Graham and me, and we had a little smooch for the camera.

The children bought me presents (Cam this book, and Olivia a scarf with flamingos on it, inspired by my abiding love of all things flamingo) and made me cards, and Graham bought me daffodils and croissants.  I didn't have to lift a finger all day

In the evening Graham and I popped down to the local pub to listen to some live music and enjoy a pint of beer.

What more could anyone need? Perfect.  

10 things

•        Olivia lost her Oyster card, which she needs to travel home from school by herself on the tube.  It is the third time she's lost it since the beginning of term.

•        I lost my patience.  "Just. Stop. Losing. Stuff!" I yelled.

•         How do you teach a child to be less scatty and forgetful?  I'm not sure you can.

•         When her replacement card came through I really just wanted to staple it onto her in some way so she won't ever lose it again.  What I actually did was make a long ribbon lanyard to attach it to her school bag instead.  While not completely Olivia-proof, I am hoping it will make it harder to lose again.  Her house keys are already attached to a long ribbon lanyard in her bag.  If she carries on losing things, then eventually everything that is important will be attached to her with ribbons.

•         We are friends again now.  She raided my button jar the other night and made this delicious bracelet.  Her mind is more often on aesthetic pleasures such as ballet, drawing, making and reading, rather than on practical things like Not. Losing. Stuff.

•         I bought a Nike running skirt, after months of the wanties.  I ran for the first time in it yesterday, and loved it.  I hate getting hot when I run, and the knee length running tights I was wearing before were far too hot.  The skirt looks cute, and I feel much faster and more free when I'm wearing it.

•         I made a white chocolate and orange loaf cake from a recipe I found on this blog by Ruby, one of the contestants in this year's Great British Bake Off.  It is utterly divine.

 

•      I am essay writing again.  Paper everywhere, and my head full of statistics and policies and care plans. I am distracting myself by thinking up cakes to bake.

•         When I am not reading NICE Clinical Guidelines, I am reading Bring Up The Bodies by Hilary Mantel, which is amazing but harrowing.  She gave a fascinating interview on Radio 4's Book Club this week.

•         I went to Sweatshop, they measured my feet, analysed my gait and I chose my free pair of running shoes.  They are bright blue.  I love them.

Influences

I often don't realise the level of influence I have over my children.  On a quiet afternoon this week, Olivia pottered into the kitchen with her arms full of fabric scraps and said in her typically quiet way, "I thought I'd make some bunting for my room - can you show me how?"

 

On the other hand, when Moss Stitch and I took all our children on a longish walk in Epping Forest a few days later, we had to bribe them into participating with moderate enthusiasm and not moaning, by lugging along heavy bags full of chocolate biscuits and flasks of mocha coffee in order to keep them stoked up with sugar and caffeine at all times.

 

My love of long walks and being in amongst the trees has clearly not had as much influence on them as my love of fabric and cake.  

When we got back home, I said to Olivia, "You know, in years to come I bet you take your children on walks like that."  She looked me straight in the eye and replied, "I would never be so cruel."

 

The two of them

There is one day in between their birthdays.  Yesterday Cam turned 13 and tomorrow Olivia turns 10.  Today is the day in between.

Aged 7 and 4

Aged 12 and 9

They've always been close, and for that I am thankful.  But this birthday season makes them into even more of a unit than usual.  They become quite twinny as they plan wishlists, outings and birthday menus.  The excitement of the other one's birthday seems to make their own even better.  They spend weeks secretly drawing each other birthday pictures and working out what to buy one other.

Aged 5 and 2

And if they can keep this closeness through their teenage years I shall be delighted.  It doesn't always happen.

Aged 12 and 9

Happy Birthday, my two loves!

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.

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.

Extreme

I've never known a year when I've thought more about the weather, talked more about the weather, or watched the weather forecasts more closely, than 2012.  Everything about the weather has seemed so extreme this year - in a part of the country, and indeed the world, that generally has such very unremarkable middle-of-the-road weather.

After a dry, bitingly cold winter which triggered an official drought, we moved into record-breaking high temperatures in March, followed by some of the most persistant and heavy rain I have ever experienced in April.  May started off very cold indeed; just last week I still had the central heating on once a day, and Olivia was going to school in thick black tights and her winter uniform.

And now...now it seems to be set fair.  There is sunshine all day long, and the temperatures are soaring towards the high 20s.  Olivia is wearing summer dresses to school and the hens lie panting in their dust baths.  The flowers in the garden are burning with colour.

Bee lavender

Fuschia

Geraniums

It is these prolonged extremes of weather that I find so un-British.  Most of the time in East London we bumble along with mild, dry-ish weather, punctuated by occasional scorching days in summer and icy days in winter.  The distinct, and extreme, phases to the weather that we've had this year feel new. 

Mostly I suspect that these extremes are the result of climate change.  But then I look at the children, and they just don't care about the weather in the same way I do.  Cam moans when it's hot and his hayfever is bad, and Olivia likes being able to wear hats that Granny has knitted her when it's cold - but mostly they just ignore it.  Could it be that rather than climate change I am just getting middle-aged and like nothing more than a good chat about the weather?

Set fair

Appeasement cakes

I put too much smoked paprika in the bean and squash stew.

Cakes cooling, butter softening and stew simmering

I know that come tea time tonight, the paprika will be even more pungent and the children will moan and sigh because they do not like spicy food.  And then I will moan and sigh because I do like spicy food, and I cooked it for tea, and so please just eat it without complaining, just this once.  You know how it goes.

So I decided that it might be a good tactic to make something more crowd-pleasing for pudding.  I made some fairy cakes.  You can see the production line above: cakes cooling, butter softening to make the icing, and spicy stew simmering very gently.

I iced the cakes with rosewater buttercream, and decorated them with pink chocolate buttons.  Double pink appeasement cakes; hidden away in a tin for now, until everyone has eaten their veg.

Pink crowd pleasers