This morning a jar of whole stem ginger and bag of poppy seeds satisfied my baking lust.

This morning Mother told me I wasn't happy.

This afternoon I'm making a Cottage Pie then watching Alan Ladd in Shane.
And that Mother darling makes me happy.

I know what mum means though, I do have days when I dislike living and mum being ever present and everywhere sees it, she sees all, in that respect she is very much like God.


A list of goodies to be baked between now and Christmas Eve...

Moist Gingerbread with Stem Ginger and Lemon Icing. 
Dark and sweet. Yum

Hot Cross Buns without the crosses. 
Ideal toasted and buttered and enjoyed with tea on a winters afternoon.

Lemon and Poppy Seed Traybake. 
Squares of it can be warmed in the microwave for a minute then served with cream. In fact I often serve cake this way. Another winner is slices of Madeira with pears and chocolate sauce.

Rich Fruit Cake with marzipan and white icing. A lazy girl's quickie xmas cake. A jar of Luxury Mincemeat is added to a bowl of flour, butter, glace cherries, nuts and eggs. Baked. Then marzipanned and iced. Quick, effortless but tastes like its taken three months to mature.Alcohol optional.

Coffee and Walnut Sponge.
A classic. I use camp coffee and chicory essence to flavour the sweet buttery icing. Served in wedges on its own, any more sugar and you'd probably feel ill.


Cherry Pie.
Crisp buttery pastry shell filled with a jar of cherries warmed and thickened with cornflour and flavoured with almond essence. Gorgeous served hot with ice cream or whipped cream. Or on its own on a small plate dusted with icing sugar. Very festive especially if doileys are used.


When I'm not cooking I'm reading...
This book is perfect for childless dreamers like me.

An orange and yellow skip sits on the driveway.
Already laying broken inside the echoing the echoing metal tomb, torn apart furniture
Room for a human?




As you can tell.... this morning's outing with a weak and sombre mother left me drained. I'd like to write positively but my mind has shut down and my body runs on auto.
Just now... a fleeting fly - by over an endless lavender field....The fragrance of my fabric conditioner being the ticket.

 

Saturday Night's Feast

Rice with carrots, peas, tomatoes, onions, green beans, cauliflower and chicken. Warmed by curry powder and garlic. Simple, scrumptious and friendly...

Angel Cake. The lightest cake in the universe. Made with five egg whites, a little flour and sugar and a few droplets of vanilla extract. Too good to be true. Served with a drizzle of cream. All white on the night.

.........Had a dawdle around Rochford square this morning. It was almost empty of people. A few old stragglers slowly passing the butchers making their way to the ever popular Greggs but other than that mum and me had the place to ourselves.
What a difference a few days make..On Tuesday the square was so packed you couldn't help brushing shoulders with the elderly.

I picked up two sherry glasses for 60p, a glass amber coloured tea light holder for 70p and for mum a squidgy white handbag with chunky chain.
Other goodies included a dozen old magazines for £1 and a banana yellow 1pt pudding basin.

This shopping trip was difficult for mum on account of the pain in her arm and down her right side, but she wouldn't hear of staying in, in the warm, with me whilst Mr Horsehound fixed the side gate. She wanted to be out and about  in her faux leopard jacket and sensible shoes.
Mother has driven me to overeating and then no eating but I more than admire her tenacity.

She has our evening planned too....
One reaches the stage where it makes sense to accept one's lot and bloody get on with it.

Talking of taking on new things..I've just put an Angel Cake into the oven. Never made it before. But as I read through Mrs Beeton's recipe I thought it sounded light and delicate and rather cute so I found my 6 inch ring tin and had a go.

If it bakes up ok I'll post a pic.

Now I must fly...Mother needs brown bread and marmalade.

Southend-On-Sea

...........A fruitful shopping expedition in the rain

Splashed and damp but we hauled home....

A new leopard print three quarter length coat for mother plus a frilly vest and silly slippers.

For me....bought in a charity shop, an old book called 'A Year's Dinners' written by May Little. No date inside. But by the contents I'm guessing the 1920's 30's.
On the first page it says... 365 Seasonal Dinners. With Instructions for Cooking. A Handy Guide-Book for Worried Housekeepers. (That bit really tickled me)
By May Little, First Class Diplomee, Late Staff Teacher at the National Society's Training School of Cookery, London. Author of "Cookery Up To Date"

It's a glimpse into a bygone age. I love it...... Water Lily Savoury. Cheese Eclairs. Minced Duck and Tomatoes.Calf's Feet Fritters. Sprouts and Cheese. Chicken Kromeskis.

Mum and me spent a good couple of hours jostling with other shopping ladies thoroughly enjoying the warm squeezes and smiles.
I offered tea and toasted tea cakes but mum declined so after a bit of buying in Poundland we headed back to the car where I wrapped mother up like an precious parcel.

Home via McDonalds.



Tonight's Tea...

Minced beef and vegetables with dumplings and mini roasted potatoes

.............England's fruitcakes lost to Germany's 'b' team.
We watched in disbelief.
But the highlight of the night's viewing was when former Three Lions player Gary Neville solemnly predicted that England will win a major Tournament in the next 10-15 years...

So by my reckoning England will hold aloft a big shiny cup when I'm picking up me pension.

                                                  Whatever you say Gaz, whatever you say.

More Good Than Bad

....and a vintage cut glass sugar bowl. I could rattle on about my morning with mum and how our marrows were chilled as we stopped at shop after shop but I'll spare you that...I did though buy a giant cauliflower from a man with scared white hair and purple old tats.

Tonight's tea is sausages with potato boulangere and carrots. For sweet... A Queen of Puddings made with blackcurrant jam instead of the usual raspberry. Feels good knocking convention.
By the way I've flung out my bras opting instead for smooth white lycra vests.
Mother, you see, is changing the way I think and feel. Gloria is being knocked hither and thither. To save my life and sanity I've taken my swinging boobies and swollen knees to the bunker from where life seems rosier. It's a damn sight easier than more war.
A row on Sunday being the catalyst.
Mum needed her feet soaked. I'd had a busy day. And I'd just sat down with the Sunday Mirror when I was reminded about her ankles and ingrowing toenails which needed washing and trimming and creaming and other feet jobs.
 I flipped. I mean I really growled. So much so that at 7pm, despite screaming foul language and tears from me
poor Mr Horsehound stormed out kicking a filthy hole in the drawing room door and I paralysed by despair jumped in my car and drove around town in my PJs. Such was the rage that engulfed us. Mum though sat watching telly.

We've calmed down now. And tonight Mr Horsehound, mum and myself will watch England take on our old rivals, Germany.
I'm hoping the game will take me to another place.

Just the good stuff

Made a stunning Steak and Kidney pudding for dinner yesterday. It was the best one I've made. Packed with chopped braising steak, ox kidney, onion, grated carrot, beef stock, Worcestershire sauce, a dollop of HP sauce and well seasoned.
After steaming it for two hours I turned it out and cut into the featherlight suet pastry. The hot meat and veg slipped out covered in thick brown gravy. To go with it a simple veg combi of plain boiled potatoes and sprouts. Mustard on the side for the grown-ups and for me a squirt of tomato ketchup.

The sweet course was just that. Sweet. A family size Bread and Butter pudding which, for a change, wasn't chokka with dried fruits, I sometimes overdo it. Instead I used far fewer fruits. Much better and no burnt raisins stuck to the baked bread like fried flies.
A drizzle of cream was all that was needed to complete the perfect afters.

Today's offering is corned beef, roast potatoes and peas followed by Queen of Puddings. A nursery pudding made with breadcrumbs, egg custard, jam and meringue...
Certainly been using a lot of bread in my cooking lately. Also being baked this afternoon is Mrs Gordon's Boil and Bake Fruitcake. And as I type a saucepan of... raisins, dried cranberries, sultanas, cherries, dark brown sugar, margarine and water is simmering away... When done (20 minutes) it'll be left to cool then flour, eggs and mixed spices will be added.
Lasts forever and is good toasted too.

On my weekly trek to Hockley charity shops I bought another baking book, this one with a continental feel. Lots of queer things I haven't seen before with a few American recipes thrown in aswell. Couldn't keep my hands of it as I munched through a McDonalds and fries.

Also bought for a pittance a bright cherry red saucepan.

Walking around Rochford market was preferable to a day out in London. Or so I thought. Yesterday was not nice. After an early morning talk with mum she decided that it would be better if we postponed our planned trek to the smoke leaving it to another day in the near future.
She ended the conversation by adding "I bet you're glad"
Another dagger to my heart.

But I got on with the day.
Taking her to the market and local shops with my friend Mr Hairy Suit. And as mum and I talked the same talk about the same tosh I felt like taking to the woods to live in a tree stump.
Such is the sludge of my everyday.

We moved on.

Hairy Suit was as helpful and cheerful as always. A real sunshine.

Later that day...I developed a headache of epic pain, but mum persisted in her verbal batterings. So I went into the kitchen, ate some paracetamol with sweet tea and day dreamed about living life as a singleton.
It's good to day dream, it's the minds way own sweet way of surviving. Books suck at the moment. Can't lose myself in any of them.

Later, in the evening, Mr Hairy left to go home, and a few minutes later I received a call from him saying he'd have a prang in his Micra and could he pop back for tea.
He arrived a few minutes later, pale and shaky, no enormous physical damage, slight whiplash and a scratched and warped car.

After tea and reassurance he went home feeling better, ready no doubt to sort out the insurance palaver.
He's cool in a crisis, I like that.

I was left with mum and her bitterness.

This morning went out again, this time to the Church charity shop. Mum was ashen and weak so she sat on the shop's cream leather sofa and looked out of their large sparkling window. Meanwhile I shopped. Finding a tartan handbag and brown ceramic pie dish. Perfect I thought for a meat and veg pie come the weekend.

Then into the chemist where the friendly lady assistant said I looked very serious and was there anything wrong. I goofed about being 57 and running out of Savlon. She believed it. I mean, how could I have a chat with her about me feeling like I'm being wrung out like a dishcloth.
She was pleasant enough though.

As I type mum's crusty roll is defrosting, she doesn't like ham sandwiches, she likes ham rolls.

I'm looking forward to Friday.
A bit of grocery shopping without mother in tow AND later on I'll be making a coffee and walnut sponge cake AND England v. Chile at Wembley.

Now I must fly...
I'm peckish and feeling creative so an egg sandwich and a major tidy up of the front room is required.

This morning..
Having an early morning cup of tea in the bedroom listening to the Today programme on Radio 4 was much needed. Yesterday had been one of those days where mum kind of took over. And by 9pm I'd had enough. We parted though on good terms, me leaving the front room door ajar then walking along the hall waiting for the 'call back'. Mum often doing her Columbo impersonation of 'just one more thing'.
I love going to bed.

I also love and adore my little me moments early a.m. where I sip tea sitting on the bed deciding what frock to wear, I revel in those moments because once I leave the security of my small bedroom the pressure begins.

Take tomorrow for example...mum wants to go to London. To her flat. To look at old coats. which have been hanging in one of her wardrobes for many years.
Train? Car? Taxi?
The daymare begins.

At any rate I have today to look forward to..Hockley post office and charity shops... With Mr Hairy Suit.




Here I am after watching a thrilling Big Band Night on The X Factor. I got dolled up.

A cake stand loaded with overly large Baklava. Despite being carefully filled with walnuts, hazelnuts and pistachios and then drenched in honey and lemon juice AND taking a whole morning to make...they were HORRIBLE. I loathe culinary disasters and this was one of the worst I've ever made. The thing is on Saturday morning I was in two minds as to whether to make them or not, I should have stuck with my original idea...A coffee and walnut sponge. A never fail always yummy cake. But I suppose one learns by one's mistakes. Baklava ? Whatta Palaver.

Gorgeous!

My New Handbag by Faith.
Bought today in Debenhams.
The picture of course not doing it justice, it's more cream than white and the lining..oh my Lord the lining...it is gorgeous. Pastel pink satinesque.

I haven't ditched charity shops, no way that'll happen, but today I hungered for something special and I found it.

We popped into the British Heart Foundation shop down by the sea front where mum bought a teeny leopard print chain bag which is now holding MY make-up (mum tires very quickly of stuff). And for 99p I bought a brilliant red mock croc multi pocketed purse. Loads of space for all my pennies.
Then, as the sun shone, sort of, we went to Boots wherein mum bought me a bottle of L'aimant cream scent in the black bottle. Very swish.
She bought one for herself too and enjoyed it very much.

After a short walk we ended up in Poundland where we strolled along filling our basket with:
A pink icing set
A red 2014 diary
The Good, The Bad and the Multiplex a book about what's wrong with modern movies written by the insanely passionate Mark Kermode
A small mug with a picture of a rabbit on it. Not mine.

As we dawdled to the car park I was pleased with how our morning had gone. Mum had been a spirited lovely love and I had maintained an upbeat positive attitude.
The alternative being the way to the madhouse.

Then Home.



And so as we ate our McDonalds watching the heads of MI5, MI6 and GCHQ  I tapped my new handbag and smiled.
I love Good Days...

I was relieved to see the dawn of this day.
Last night, after a battle with sleeplessness, I dreamed I was fancied by a tall black delivery driver. I woke abruptly as he handed me a red box of purple socks.

Mum and myself are out today on another shopping trip. I'm wearing a 'new' pair of beige hiking type boots (£2). Hope they don't rub. To be on the safe side I've slightly loosened the bright red laces.

I'm dazed by the brightness of the morning but pleased it's here.
 

The thunder of a heart smashing
leaves one deaf
and nearer to its namesake

Never Explain or Complain

As I write a steak and kidney pudding is steaming. We're eager to eat it alongside plain boiled potatoes and steamed greens. Going back to basics, returning to simpler food has lately been my love.
Only yesterday did I make a huge pot of chilli serving it with pearly barley and crushed tortilla chips. To add pizazz Mr Hairy uncorked some giggle wasser, a strange combi but it worked.

Recently, on Thursday actually, I had company in the kitchen, Mr Hairy and his son, little Hairy, little Hairy being called as such on account of his tender age and the fact that he's started shaving... His first sproutings being dealt with only last week. Bless Him.
I thought it'd be cool to cook with the young man so I invited him and dad for an afternoon of mixing and managing. Mixing in the form of banana and peanut butter muffins and managing in the guise of trying to keep the mix in the bowl.
What a hoot we had. I have pics to prove it and will soon post a couple.

                                                            "Yes! IT'S AN ELECTRIC WHISK"

                                                                   "give it to me"


Mother has been braver than brave. No news there then. She continues to astonish with her fortitude and vocabulary.
What a love.

Mr Horsehound continues to work unsocial hours but rises smiling and settles in the dark still smiling. A man beyond all comprehension.

I watched the X Factor last night and loved it far more than last weeks limp offering. Music from the films? I was expecting Doris Day not Celine Dion. Mother hated it.
But Disco week had me grooving in me cushion. Oh such memories. Big hair. Slimmer. Staying up till midnight satisfying myself with Donna Summer.
Yeah last night's show was the best so far.

Will tune it tonight to see who gets booted, should be young lad Sam Callahan, got the face but nothing else.

I have to sign orf now, Mother wants to watch my Jack The Ripper DVD.
And as she dozes, as she so often does, I'll creep out to check my saucepan hasn't run dry. Can't think of anything more horrific than a dried up old pudding....