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 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.

Summertime

For so long, it seems, I've been making Grand Plans about all the complicated, indulgent and time-consuming things I was going to do once the ironman was over and family life wasn't dominated by G's training schedules.

But it turns out that its not about Grand Plans at all.  It's about the joy of going back to a more flexible, unstructured life with time to spare for the small things.

We sat in the garden together, early this morning before G went to work and while the children were still in bed, drinking coffee and listening to the chickens potter around.  A formation of geese flew overhead, so low that we could hear the swoosh of air from their wings.  I watched a caterpillar crawl up the lilac tree and we talked about books.

You probably heard the screams in England

I was going to tell you about the charming medieval city of St Antonin Noble-Val, and its madly busy Sunday market.

And I thought I might share with you how delicious the mid morning espresso and chocolatine, drunk on the terrace at the local cafe, were.

After the market, I walked the seven miles home along the Aveyron gorge, and I could describe in great detail how heartbreakingly beautiful the walk along the river is.

But actually, the only thing I can think of is this MASSIVE snake, which was sunbathing across a farm track, and which I nearly stepped on as I admired some nearby buttercups.

But you might have guessed that I saw a snake because I imagine you would have heard the screams back in England.  It was the length of my arm span, from fingertip to fingertip, and despite being a perfectly harmless grass snake, it still made my heart pound and my blood race.  I am not a fan of snakes.

The Lisette portfolio tunic

I made a practise, or muslin version, of the new Lisette portfolio tunic yesterday.  I used an old 1970s bed sheet of my mother's (or maybe Grandmother's) for the muslin, which I remember vividly from my childhood.  I love old bed sheets and duvet covers for making muslins - there's so much fabric to use, the patterns are often funky enough to wear if the muslin turns out well, and being so old the fabric is incredibly soft and tactile.  There was a great article on Whip Up yesterday about sewing with vintage bed sheets.

The Lisette patterns are a new venture by Liesl Gibson, who designs the Oliver + S children's clothing patterns.  Instead of publishing the patterns entirely by herself, as she does for Oliver + S, she has teamed up with Simplicity for the Lisette patterns.  This warmed me to the patterns immediately as I get on very well with Simplicity patterns.

I've made a few Oliver + S clothes for O, and although I love the designs I do find the instructions too slow and detailed for my liking.  They are perfect for anyone new to dressmaking, because everything is very clear and carefully explained, but I end up getting frustrated with the large number of small, detailed steps. 

The Lisette patterns are much more my sort of thing.  There are still plenty of handy tips and suggestions in the instructions, but I could rattle through them at a good pace, making adjustments and changes as I saw fit.

I followed the pattern for the tunic length top - there are both longer and shorter versions of the top included in the pattern, as well as trousers.  The tunic has two low pockets which wasn't apparent from the picture on the packet.  I love these pockets so much though - they make the tunic look very quirky I think.

I made the top across one afternoon and evening, so it was quite a quick project (once I had traced and cut all the pattern pieces, which I hate doing, and which took me the almost another entire day).  I struggled with the pockets at first - it seemed counter intuitive to do what the instructions told me - but when I calmed down and did as i was told, it all worked perfectly.  The outside neckband caused rather a lot of swearing as I had to spend ages pinning it, and then rip the stitches out twice before it worked.  But other than that it was all very straightforward, and next time I would rattle though it twice as quickly, I'm sure.

And there will be a next time.  I like how it looks.  The neckline is higher than I would usually choose, but I'm getting used to it.  The fabric choices I made are a little odd, but I have to remind myself that this is a practise version.  I think the contrasting pieces would have looked much better in yellow, not dark brown, but I just used up what I had to hand on my shelves.  I want to make it in ticking (red and grey, preferably) or a thick, crisp quilting cotton.

The fit is making me quite happy.  Next time I'd sew the side seams with a bigger seam allowance to give myself more of a waist, but I like how this fits across the bust and hips - notoriously tricky areas to get right.

The weather was warm enough on our walk today that I could ask Gill to take these photos of me when we stopped by a log for a coffee break.  I think the tunic even looks rather good paired with baggy, old, muddy jeans and my walking boots!  It will be even nicer though with some skinny jeans or leggings, and great as a cover-up from the sun this summer.

I'm very happy.  Off to rummage for some fancier fabric now to make myself another version.

Weekday walk #5

As Moss Stitch and I discuss via Twitter which sandwich fillings we are planning for walk number 6 tomorrow (at the time of writing I am going for smoked salmon pate and Gill is leaning towards breaded ham and branston - but am sure one or both of us will have a last minute change!) I've realised that I didn't write up walk number 5, which was last week.

In many ways that's because it didn't feel like our usual Wednesday walk.  It was half term and we had all the children with us, and we also met up with my brother and his family, so in total we were four adults and seven children - the children ranging in ages between 1 and 11.  The best place to go with that many people of such diverse interests was easy to agree on - Kew Gardens.

It was a freezing day and as we ambled around we were glad of our flasks of coffee.  Particularly when we made the obligatory stops at the Badger's Sett and the alarming Treetop Walkway.  My children don't consider it a proper visit to Kew unless they have clambered around both these features.  I think the cousins and friends agreed.

The three 11 year olds, and the 4 year old, charged everywhere in wide zigzags all day, and by mid afternoon they had all hit a wall of exhaustion.

C confuses Forza Motorsports on the Xbox, with responsible pushing of his baby cousin in the buggy

C, T and F are all worn out

The baby and the girls were still doing pretty well though.  The baby loved the floor grates in the Palm House, and pressed his nose to the floor to try and see what was underneath.

A and B having crawling races in the Palm House

I loved chatting with Gill and my brother and his wife, and as usual I came home feeling restored and settled.  The children were utterly exhausted too, which is always a bonus. We loved the damp crocuses just blooming near the pagoda, but the orchids in the palmhouse were glorious too (and warmer to photograph).

The biggest excitement of the day for me though, was my brother's orange kitkat, which he kindly shared with me at lunchtime. Wikipedia tells me that the orange flavoured kitkat was introduced in 1996, which means it has taken me an outrageous fifteen years to discover this incredible delight.  I have since stocked up on a multipack of my own, and now have a good supply to sustain me on the next few weekday walks with Gill.  Tomorrow we're heading off to walk along the south bank of the Thames, through docklands.

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I have both a desire for accuracy and a love of alliteration, and this has resulted in the re-naming of these walks from Wednesday Walks to Weekday Walks.  There have been a few Thursdays and Tuesdays recently, and we've decided we rather like the flexibility.

Needs must

Sometimes only a pint of coffee will do.

Cinnamon rolls - blink and you miss them

There is a new obsession around here.  When I ask the family to give me nominations for which cake to make next, I mostly get three different requests from them (and then I will frequently veto them all and bake the one I wanted to in the first place - baking democracy is flirted with, rather than actually embraced, in this house).  So when both children requested cinnamon rolls three times in a row, I decided I'd better listen.

The first batch disappeared in record time (thirty six hours).  Helped along by G discovering that he too has a passion for cinnamon rolls and eating FOUR while working at home yesterday.  There were almost tears when Livvy ate the last one for pudding yesterday evening. 

Cam has a friend coming round to play this afternoon - sorry 'hang out'.  "We don't exactly 'play' at our age any more," said Cam, "we just hang out together."  He pleaded with me to make another batch of cinnamon rolls, so that his friend could have one too.  Livvy made her eyes big and bambi-like and G's face lit up in a way that it never does when I mention chocolate cake. 

So I've done an unheard of thing - cooked the same cake twice in a row.  How long will this batch last?  Till tomorrow morning?

The List Writer's Cinnamon Rolls

• 1 batch of white bread dough - enough for 1 loaf
• 25g butter
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 5 tablespoons caster sugar
• 3 teaspoons cinnamon

Make a batch of plain white bread dough - enough for one regular sized loaf.  I do mine in the bread machine. 

Get a large baking sheet, and cover it with baking parchment; even if it is non-stick.  Mix the sugar and cinnamon together in a small bowl, and melt the butter and vanilla together in a small pan.

Tip your bread dough on to a floured surface, and roll it out into a rectangle.  Bread dough does not like being rolled out at all - it will be very elastic and springy, but persevere and it will come good.  I find it easiest to divide the dough into two and work with two smaller pieces.

Brush the melted butter and vanilla over your rectangle of dough, and then sprinkle the sugar and cinnamon over the melted butter.  Roll up the dough into a long sausage, along the long side of the rectangle and then cut the dough into thick slices - about 3cm long.  Put the pinwheels of dough onto your baking sheet, reasonably close together, and leave to rise.  You want the rolls to just touch each other once they are risen.

Bake at Gas 7 for 12 minutes, and serve with a glass of cold milk or a cup of coffee.

I think of these rolls as quintessentially American.  I came across them a great deal when I lived and worked there.  I would guess they are part of the whole Scandinavian/German heritage of the Midwest, which is where much of the bread-based American baking originated.  In America these were always served drizzled with icing, or even spread with cream-cheese frosting, but I don't have a sweet tooth and prefer them unadorned.

Coffee break

I have a week and a half left of my short OU course, and I am writing my final assessment. In some ways I am just like the student I was nearly twenty years ago when I started my degree in American Studies at university.  I still like to do my essays in one intensive burst of enthusiasm, close to the deadline.  I still work on a cluttered desk and I still like to write in longhand on a pad of A4 paper and then type it up later.

But these days I drink coffee rather than herbal tea, and I have much posher biscuits.  These are the oat and vanilla shortbread biscuits from Rachel Allen's Bake.  I also no longer have to interrupt my essay writing to go to the launderette or drink the night away in the student union. 

There is, however, the blog to distract me now.

And these daffs from Cornwall, slowly opening on the mantelpiece.  Can I finish my essay before they are all in bloom?

A very useful cake recipe

I'm still sewing, taking photos and saving them up to do one enormously impressive blog post in the New Year about how I managed to cut up some of my favourite fabrics, make them into things and them give them away. You're impressed already, aren't you?

In the meantime, I think we should have a recipe - haven't had too many of these around here lately. This is one of the most useful cake recipes I own. Infinitely adaptable, very easy, and devoured with pleasurable groaning by everyone who has a slice.

The List Writer's Fruit and Almond Cake

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I love almonds, and the solid, fragrant dampness they give to cakes. Bakewell Tarts are one of my all time top five things to eat, but I don't often make them because they're a little bit too faffy. Pastry and sponge? No, I need my almond cake to be made very quickly, when the need for an almond hit strikes.

Everybody else around here loves these fruit and almond cakes too. The one I made on Thursday was gone by Sunday morning.

The last, lonely slice

Ingredients:-

• 175g softened butter or marg
• 175g caster sugar
• 175g self raising flour
• 75g ground almonds
• 3 eggs
• half a teaspoon almond extract (optional - leave it out if you're not an almond freak like me)
• Chopped fruit - roughly enough to fill a cereal bowl

One of the most useful aspects of this cake is that it works with all kinds of fruit. For last week's cake I used big, red plums - six of them, stoned and cut into slices. For this week's version I used five eating apples, cored, peeled and sliced. Pears, fresh apricots, rhubarb, cherries and raspberries also work very well in this cake.

Put all the ingredients, apart from the fruit, into a food mixer and beat well for a few minutes until light and fluffy. You can do it by hand, or in a food processor if you do not have a mixer. Line the base of a loose bottomed cake tin with parchment paper. I use a 22cm springform tin. Tip the cake batter into the tin and spread out slightly towards the edges. Arrange the fruit on the top in any kind of pleasing arrangement. You should have enough fruit to pretty much cover the top completely.

Put in the centre of the oven at 180c or gas 4 for 45 to 50 minutes, until the cake is golden brown and cooked through. The cake will have risen up slightly around the fruit.

Allow to cool completely in the tin before removing. Serve with coffee, some Radio 4 podcasts and a pile of sewing on the side.

Coffee and me

I drank my first cup of coffee when I was nearly twenty four years old. I always liked the smell, but never the taste.

The thing that drove me to it in the end was a job interview with KPMG for a graduate trainee position. My interview was an all day one. To get to central London from Norwich, ready to start my interview at 9am, I had woken at 5am. I was a student, and more suited to going to bed at 5am.

At 8:45am I was standing in a board room, dressed in a suit for the first time in my life, with about 20 other candidates and a large table full of freshly brewed coffee in large jugs. It smelt amazing. I clearly remember looking at the jugs and thinking If I am going to get through this day without falling asleep I need some caffeine. And the cups of builders tea and packets of pro plus that had sustained me through University suddenly didn't seem suitable.

So I poured myself a cup of coffee, added a splash of milk, and pretended to the room that I had been drinking it all my life. I loved the coffee and got the job - it was a momentous day.

I drink coffee every day. Not loads - usually just one large cup in the middle of the morning, and occasionally another in the middle of the afternoon. But I am not very nice if I don't have it. I rarely drink anything other than filter coffee or espresso. Cappucinos and lattes don't taste enough of coffee.

I buy my beans from all sorts of places - currently from Abel & Cole, but I love Taylors of Harrogate and Starbucks beans too.

I like the coffee rituals I have built up:

• putting the coffee machine on as soon as I get home after dropping C and O at school
• calling in at Caffe Neros when I get off the tube on a work day
• choosing which flavour of beans to grind at the weekend
• packing the aluminium espresso maker when we go camping
• choosing which mug I want to drink out of

We're in a proper relationship now, me and coffee.

A Saturday in my life

For a while now, I have been following Willow's blog. And one of my favourite things is her monthly Day In My Life series of posts. I love the little snapshot into her life - the small details are so interesting. Several of the weekend newspapers run regular columns in a similar way - A Life in the Day in The Times and Writers' Rooms in The Guardian. It is peeping into somebody else's world just momentarily, that gives me such a thrill.

So here - as a one off - is a classic winter Saturday in my life. A day neither remarkable nor special, but just lovely in its ordinariness.

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My children are now old enough to give me lie ins, which is AWESOME. I promise that I will never, ever take this for granted after the years of sleepless-baby-and-wide-awake-toddler, which, frankly, scarred my sleeping patterns for life.

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I emerge downstairs at 9:15 to find C and O settled quite happily on the sofa watching CBBC.

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I am wearing my favourite t-shirt of the moment which was Howie's t-shirt of the week sometime last month.

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I appreciate that all you can see is mirror writing, but its still cool, no? No coffee. No workee. That's me.

G sets the table for breakfast and I tuck into a bowl of my homemade muesli.

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I have recently discovered muesli base from Waitrose, which is a mixture of barley, oats, rye and spelt flakes with sunflower and pumpkin seeds. You then customise the base to make precisely the kind of muesli you want. Becuase people are very finicky about muesli. Some cannot abide nuts and some find sultanas all wrong. I like mine with big old chunks of fruit in it so I add lots of chopped prunes, figs, dried strawberries and sultanas.

After breakfast, I discovered that my children have turned into superheroes. They do this quite often. Today I had Clever Party Girl and Bogey Man (Bogey's my name - snot's the game).

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G cycled to a swimming lesson at the endless pool in Canary Wharf and I reclothed the superheroes and then took O to her ballet lesson.

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While O was at ballet, C and I bought croisssants for lunch.

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After lunch I made some bread - a sesame and sunflower seed loaf - and twiddled around on the computer while I drank some coffee.

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G and C did some research for C's project on the Vikings and O made a playmobil forest.

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I knitted.

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My evening at Stitch & Bitch London this week taught me how to increase, put stitch markers in and put stitches on a stitch holder. I'm attempting mittens now! Oh, and if you click into that link and scroll down, you can find a picture of me - looking very serious, concentrating hard and wearing black, which I only ever do if I am at work.

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I cooked a biryani for supper, and then once the children were in bed G and I dug out a DVD to watch.

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We could only manage 10 minutes of Mamma Mia...the singing! the squealing! the hammy acting! no! no! no!

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So here I am, uploading photos, typing my blog and finding out what events are on in Trafalgar Square tomorrow for the Chinese New Year celebrations.

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How has your Saturday been?