28
Jan

I am not yet forsaking the blogging world for the ‘real writer’ world (with apologies to the many noted writers who blog, bloggers who secured a book deal and all those inbetween.) I shall now take up residence at my new site now that I have our new house in order. Well, I say that, but I had the plumber round today. In the usual way he huffed and puffed and sucked through his teeth (is that a module in the Plumber Training course?!) and proclaimed that the shower was, basically, ‘buggered’. The carpet man did his best at cleaning the sitting room carpet, but did sign it’s Death Certificate before he took the cash and scarpered. Oh and our next door neighbour leaned over, or rather through, the fence to point out that it really needed fixing now that the Wonder Hound had broken through. Sigh. As I write, the DH is writing what must be a very painful cheque to the taxman. I shall save the good news until tomorrow. Follow me to my new location to see how he takes it!

11
Jan

Along with the disposal of a million-and-one pine needles, an enormous credit card bill and a sense of desperation, the New Year is also synonymous with The Resolution. You determine to lose weight, give up smoking, learn more, be nicer, bigger, better. And invariably you set out with the best of intentions, make it through January with little struggle. Then comes February and Valentine’s Day so you take a little break, with every intention of getting back to it, and you do, but somehow it’s a little harder. Next comes March, spring and Easter, requiring another break and before you know it, summer’s around the corner and you feel so positive and alive and the resolutions that you made somehow seem less important. And thus they lie forgotten in the recess of your brain until January comes around again and the cycle begins once more.

Rather than continue to fall into this trap, when I was in my twenties and completely incapable of achieving a single thing on my list of resolutions, I decided to do something about it and changed the goalposts. Realising that I was never going to achieve the smaller things, I looked at the bigger things and came up with a list of lifetime goals. They were things that were important enough for me that they could take the rest of my life to achieve, and flexible enough that I could cross two off in a month or not achieve anything for a couple of years. The pressure came off and it became easier. So easy, in fact, that I only actually have a couple left. I feel happier in January, calmer in February and less disappointed in myself in March.

This year I have been slightly disappointed in myself for not having written more since the arrival of Squeaky, but as the arrival of Squeaky meant that I could tick another Lifetime’s Ambition off the list, I’ve not lost sleep (not strictly true, since babies don’t always make sleep easy!). I do miss it. The annual tax return deadline has poked me into action in the last few days, since I have realised that my maternity leave is almost at an end. Squeaky started nursery last week, and whilst I know that things will never be entirely back-to-normal, I have to get back to normal. I have to get back to work. And I have to get back to writing.

So I suppose I am making one resolution this year- to get back to being the Aspiring Domestic Goddess that I am. If anything Squeaky has added an extra dimension to my Fifties-Housewife-in-the-21st-Century challenge. I will remain faithful to the principles I started out with, namely to appear to be the perfect housewife, whilst still trying to wrangle dog, baby, husband, house and whatever else falls in my lap as I sit watching daytime TV and scoffing chocolate in my PJs!

24
Dec

I’ve trimmed the tree and decked the halls,
Made the beds and climbed the walls
Wrapped the presents under the tree
But they’re all for the baby. What about me?

I’m sitting here eating a bowl of Nigella’s Sweet Potato soup with a hunk of crusty bread and some carols playing ’softly’ in the background, trying to find a momet of pace to buy me up for cooking the turkey tomorrow. Being me, I have tinkered with the recipe slightly, not least becase the DH and blue cheese don’t mix. I did peel the veg, since the idea of blending butternut squash, skin and all, freaked me out more than the shops in Bromley on Christmas Eve. Whilst the potato and squash was roasting in the oven, I fried off some lardons and 200g cubed ham I got from the deli with an onion, then covered with boiling water and a stock cube and brought to the boil. Added in the roasted veg and whizzed until smooth with a hand blender (add more boiling water if too thick) and enjoy with a drizzle of cream (don’t tell me you have none in the fridge- it’s Christmas Eve for goodness’ sake) and a hunk…..of bread, whilst tracking Santa as he delivers his gifts. I think it’s meant for kids, but the website is keeping me amused.

Happy Holidays.

22
Dec

05
Nov

I don’t know what the future will hold for Britain, for the United States and for the World, but I am glad that I am witness to such an extraordinary moment in America’s past, present and future.

26
Aug

I imagine you are wondering where I have been of late. I’d like to tell you that I won the lottery and have been busy adjusting to my newfound wealth. I’d like to tell you that my husband whisked me and my daughter away on a round the world trip. I’d like to tell you that I have been out publicising my best-selling novel. The sad truth is I have been doing my best impersonation of Gina Ford. Routine rules in our house- sort of. I grew up as an Army brat, about which I have written before. I got used to being places on time and often five minutes early. Years of boarding school programmed me to do things at set times on set days. And a wealth of experience nannying has taught me that the smooth running of a house, not to mention the calm happiness of a baby has a lot to do with getting enough sleep at set times.

The down side to the introduction of an iron-clad routine is that babies take a while to realise that it is in their best interests, resulting in a frazzled baby and an exhausted mum. And unlike the nannying jobs, I can’t go home for a good night’s sleep at 6pm. How did I not see that one coming? Add the decorator, electrician, furniture delivery man and dog to the mix and I have had precious little time to eat, never mind write. Which is not to say I haven’t wanted to. In fact whilst I have not been typing I have had the laptop mended, and I have had the splendid chap at Nota Bene Consulting sort me out a swish new website with a swish new look, about which I am terribly excited. A few finishing touches and I shall be transferring lock stock and barrel, but all the old posts, recipes and a sprinkling of wit and charm should follow with me. In the mean time, I know that I was memed by Nunhead Mum…..I should get on with that.

09
Jul

They say that life is what happens while you are making other plans. Welcome to my world. In my head, the move was simple, straight-forward and very carefully orchestrated. I had made lists, cross-referenced things, booked and double-checked bookings and explained to the packers exactly what they needed to do and when. The reality fell way short of the mark and as I sat on the sitting room floor of my new home breastfeeding my 4 week old baby whilst I watched the movers playing Blackjack in the back of their truck through the window, I started to cry. I cried when I discovered all 14 kitchen boxes were labelled ‘China and Glass- Fragile’ and I had to unpack every one just to find a spoon. I cried when I realised that all my baking things had been left behind and subsequently thrown out by the new owner (the burden eased slightly by the discovery that Lakeland is opening a store RIGHT HERE IN BROMLEY in August.) I cried as both the hoover we brought with us and the hoover we bought to replace it broke, because it appears the carpets haven’t been cleaned in the last five years. Then there was the discovery that the ‘Garden Room’ is more a ‘Wet Room’ when it rains, that the light fittings all need replacing, that the heating and hot water system has not been working properly ‘for a good 18 months’ according to the plumber I had to pay a call-out charge to yesterday when it stopped working altogether. And so it goes on.

Although Sky came first thing the day after we moved to get our satellite system working (a girl needs something to watch whilst feeding…) we couldn’t find which box the TV cable had been packed in, and then when we did, the sound didn’t work. Although BT transferred our line the day we moved, we couldn’t find the box the phones were packed in, and when we did, discovered there was a fault on the line. There was the sofa delivery-that DH took the day off work for-that never materialised. Instead a man in a High-Vis vest (and no shirt- all the better to display his tattoos) with a fag in one hand and crumpled delivery sheet in the other rocked up the next day, looked at me cradling my new baby and gave a menacing grunt when informed that there was no-one here to help him unload. When delivering large unwieldy sofas, it seems one delivery man is all it needs, and as he threw (OK- a slight exaggeration) the sofa from the side of his truck and rolled it across the driveway, I prayed it would be in one piece when we opened the box- Scary Driver was hardly going to react well to being made to throw it back on the truck.

I am torn every day between wanting to sit and cuddle my little girl, who is growing so fast, and getting things straight. ‘Call X’ and ‘Get quotes for Y’ have been at the top of my list of ‘to dos’ for days but somehow, by the time I have fed & changed Squeaky, stared at her for a while, done the laundry, thrown the ball for the much-neglected and more wonderful than ever Wonder Hound, the day has gone and I am propping my eyes open with matchsticks and praying that the DH is on the train. The weekends are filled with feeding the baby, catching up on sleep, feeding ourselves and catching up with friends, all of whom want to see Squeaky and/or the new house. But what the heck- with the economic climate and the state of the housing market, we will be living here for a very considerable amount of time. So we don’t have any curtains. What’s the rush?

18
Jun

They say that having a baby and moving house are some of the most stressful events in life and that you should try not to do them both in the same year. We aren’t. We’re doing them in the same month. Sadly Granny M had to go back to the people of Ethiopia at the weekend so DH and I are on our own. DH is snowed under at work, poor thing, which leaves most of the planning to me and Squeaky (the newest addition, so called for the noises she makes in her sleep and featured above with bags packed and in a very cute outfit that Granny M bought for her.) Fortunately we only have to supervise packing and moving as we have hired in professionals.
Which leaves:
Cancel Milkman- check
Cancel Useless Window cleaner- won’t miss him
Tell Cleaner- can’t do without her
Notify myriad companies of Change of address- check
Notify friends and family of same- check
Mail redirection in case I forgot to notify either of the above- check
Get BT to transfer phone number- done. Incidentally they are the only phone company I have ever used not to make the top ten on my Most Useless Bankers list.
Get broadband transferred- done. With one minor issue. Despite the fact that o2 installed broadband on the very line we are taking with us, and despite the fact that we are taking the number with us, and despite the fact that BT will effect the transfer the same day, so it will only seem like the line is down for a brief period, it will take o2 approximately ten working days to get our broadband up and running again. That’s two weeks. Guess who currently tops the Most Useless Bankers list???
I have a Tesco order arriving shortly after the new electrical appliances are booked to arrive, Waitrose is a short walk in an emergency, and I have pre-ordered take-out for the first few nights. The dog has a new collar and tag, for when we discover that the dog-proofed garden is not so dog-proof. She is also of to kennels for a long weekend. I just need to pack overnight bags for the three of us, and a box or two of essentials ‘just in case’, not to mention every cleaning product known to man because, lets face it, we’ll need them (unless you buy a brand new house, you always need to clean everything.) So I think we are sorted. Which is just as well as we have visitors from overseas arriving 24 hours after we get the keys.
I’ll call you from the asylum!!!
05
Jun

In addition to the issues I have been having with the wunderkinder at Blueberry, I am adding TalkTalk to my list of Most Wanted. I actually had a Cutomer Representative laugh at me a while ago. And not because I made a joke. I’m thinking of a word and it rhymes with Banker…

To soothe the soul, and feed the many visitors we are enjoying since the arrival of our little Burrito, I have been baking. I can hear the gasps from here. It’s been so long since I was able to really enjoy baking, the SPD I had during my pregnancy made it very hard for me to stand for the periods of time required in the baking process. I am still suffering the after-effects, but not to the same degree, and as I have the luxury of a part-time husband and full-time mother on hand to help run the house, walk the dog and cuddle my baby daughter, I have been able to indulge in almond-cake-making.

Almond & Prune Cake

Ingredients:
200g each butter, sugar, ground almonds
3 tbsp plain flour
1 tsp baking powder
4 eggs
1.5 tsp almond essence
12-14 stoned prunes

Method:
1. Grease a round baking tin (one that you’d use for your christmas cake) and preheat oven to 160C.
2. Cream butter and sugar, then beat eggs in one by one (add some of the flour after each egg to stop splitting.) Add almond essence and beat well.
3. Fold in almonds, baking powder and remaining flour.
4. If mixture is too stiff, then stir in a small amount of milk until mixture is of the ‘thick double cream’ consistency.
5. Arrange prunes on bottom of cake tin, pour over cake mix and bake for about an hour. Check with skewer- if it comes out clean, then the cake is done.
6. Cool, then turn onto a plate so that the pruney side is on top, dust with icing sugar and serve. Should stay moist for several days, though the cake probably won’t last that long!
7. NB: Alternatively bung all the ingredients except prunes into a Magimix and whizz until blended. Again, add a little milk if needed. Follow instructions from item 5.

I think I have a little left over- perfect for my mid-afternoon pre-feed snack. I shall enjoy it in the garden with a glass of cordial and this week’s Hello! magazine, and stare in amazement at my sleeping baby until she wakes! Life doesn’t get much better than this….well, that is if you forget all about the useless Bankers at TalkTalk.

20
May

Cecily Jean Olivia (CJ) born Sunday 18th May 2008 at 12:55pm, and weighing 7lbs 1oz and pretty damn perfect.