It's best to rise early.
Lying in bed promotes sores and depressing thoughts so up I got, made a pot of tea and waited till colour came to my face.
Mum was talking to Monty when I showed up with tea. Her brown age spots dotted on her forehead like drops from the tea strainer. She was perky and talkative though so I pulled up my ash chair and chatted. I'm enjoying these early morning conversations where all kinds of dreams and ideals flow, it's a real heartbreaker sometimes.
But our head to head was cut short this morning because nursie is coming and I have to clean the bathroom.
Later on, after the district nurse has left, I'll make some bread, a few jam tarts and then sit on my own with tea, wondering when on earth I'll ever start decorating the kitchen. It's gross.
Time for me now comes in hot segments. I'm either cleaning the mantelpiece or mum, baking goodies for everyone or secreting in my handbag letters from the council and making softly spoken phone calls thereafter. Gone are the days when, after happily doing housework or happily buying groceries I could sit.
Sitting now, is for the dying, idle or lucky.
For dinner tonight I'm making a storecupboard standby: Sausage risotto, it isn't a proper risotto but tastes terrific anyway!
Just taken a dozen jam tarts out of the oven. Nine are lovely filled with blackcurrant, strawberry and apricot jam, the three rebels sit oozing out sugarless raspberry jelly. I'll never go near diabetic stuff again.
Wednesday, 31 October 2012
Tuesday, 30 October 2012
A Couple of Ladies. A non stop post....
Off we went to the market where lots of people relaxed amongst the various stalls all of which were loaded with this and that and essentials like bird food, cow ears, umbrellas, dish cloths lipsticks and foamy bananas I loved it today and so did mum she even spoke to someone inside the charity shop which nudges the bank I nearly fell over the painted lady guarding the till was rather grand and mum seemed to approve and I liked her too so all well
We dithered outside Greggs on account of cackles of young women trying to control their pink clothed charges how untidy they all looked not an ounce of finess or glamour mum decide she'd like a sausage roll so I queued up and bought one from Irene who smiled and looked a little flustered it was hot in the bakers then with mum munching we made our way to the RSPCA shop where I bought an old fashioned glass water jug mums crumbs littering the floor like brown dandruff and so we keft the shop in a mess and headed to Alans the dry cleaners where a round faced woman gave me my ticket for two pairs of trousers the cost being nearly £10 then into see Joan whose blooded up face broke into a smile the size of a boomerang God I love Joan we hugged and nattered she telling me all about her daughter's illness and how she went to Southend after being told about the cancers suddenly I felt right at home I left Joan to deal with a male customer who reminded me of Baldrick I scanned the weighty shelves not finding anything for myself or mum who by the way was in the car her insistence on staying car bound came as a great big whopping surprise but she's the invalid and what she wants she get I then mourhed bye bye to Joan who was still entangled in the chatterings of Baldrick but Joan being Joan left him standing as she hugged me to death kissing me firmly on my righht cheek telling me not to forget her when baking day comes around
I won't I said and ran towards mother whose pasty face made me want to vomit but I didn't I drove to the chemist had a chat with auburn haired Veronica and picked up my prescription my prescription.
We dithered outside Greggs on account of cackles of young women trying to control their pink clothed charges how untidy they all looked not an ounce of finess or glamour mum decide she'd like a sausage roll so I queued up and bought one from Irene who smiled and looked a little flustered it was hot in the bakers then with mum munching we made our way to the RSPCA shop where I bought an old fashioned glass water jug mums crumbs littering the floor like brown dandruff and so we keft the shop in a mess and headed to Alans the dry cleaners where a round faced woman gave me my ticket for two pairs of trousers the cost being nearly £10 then into see Joan whose blooded up face broke into a smile the size of a boomerang God I love Joan we hugged and nattered she telling me all about her daughter's illness and how she went to Southend after being told about the cancers suddenly I felt right at home I left Joan to deal with a male customer who reminded me of Baldrick I scanned the weighty shelves not finding anything for myself or mum who by the way was in the car her insistence on staying car bound came as a great big whopping surprise but she's the invalid and what she wants she get I then mourhed bye bye to Joan who was still entangled in the chatterings of Baldrick but Joan being Joan left him standing as she hugged me to death kissing me firmly on my righht cheek telling me not to forget her when baking day comes around
I won't I said and ran towards mother whose pasty face made me want to vomit but I didn't I drove to the chemist had a chat with auburn haired Veronica and picked up my prescription my prescription.
Monday, 29 October 2012
Happy Cooking
......I've just spent a restful couple of hours making a large shiny loaf of bread and flat Cornish Pasty Pie.
The bread is baking in one of those cheapo big use once kind of foil baking tins and I have to say that after a quick peek the loaf is looking fantastically brown and shiny and is feeling as light as a petal.
The Cornish Pasty Pie izza a mash up of an ordinary Minced Beef Pie and a Cornish Pasty, both, by the way, Mary Berry recipes. And as usual I made too much filling (see below) so being inventive I used a large solid roasting pan in which to cook the thing.
Into the bowl went::
500g minced beef.
a large finely chopped onion
two small diced potatoes
half a cup of chopped swede
a few good shakes of Worcestershire sauce ( in a Cornish pasty pie?) Ssssh.
a crushed beef oxo cube
a few tablespoons of cold water
lots of black pepper and a little salt.
This lot was mixed and put onto the shortcrust pastry base then covered with the pastry lid. Crimped, slashed and glazed with beaten egg.
I'll bake it for a good while probably 45 minutes and serve with mashed potatoes and baked beans. Mum and Mr H will have their usual mustard on the side, I'll go childlike and have tomato ketchup..
For sweet....(love that word and alternate name for 'afters') I've concocted a sponge pudding which will be nuked for a few minutes.
See recipe below.
This is below.
Butter a 1 pint pudding basin and place some brown sugar in it. On top of the sugar put three tinned apricots then top with a very basic pudding mix. Margarine, sugar, egg, milk, flour....to which a teaspoon of ground ginger has been cleverly added.
I'll be able to nuke this on account of now being in possession of an excellent *Panasonic Microwave Oven so generously given to me by my friends, Mr and Mrs Hairy Suit. Thanks guys no more steamed windows...
A jug of Bird's custard is the only accessory required.
So dinner is pie and pudding. A fat affair. But a happy affair.
* My previous oven caught fire.
The bread is baking in one of those cheapo big use once kind of foil baking tins and I have to say that after a quick peek the loaf is looking fantastically brown and shiny and is feeling as light as a petal.
The Cornish Pasty Pie izza a mash up of an ordinary Minced Beef Pie and a Cornish Pasty, both, by the way, Mary Berry recipes. And as usual I made too much filling (see below) so being inventive I used a large solid roasting pan in which to cook the thing.
Into the bowl went::
500g minced beef.
a large finely chopped onion
two small diced potatoes
half a cup of chopped swede
a few good shakes of Worcestershire sauce ( in a Cornish pasty pie?) Ssssh.
a crushed beef oxo cube
a few tablespoons of cold water
lots of black pepper and a little salt.
This lot was mixed and put onto the shortcrust pastry base then covered with the pastry lid. Crimped, slashed and glazed with beaten egg.
I'll bake it for a good while probably 45 minutes and serve with mashed potatoes and baked beans. Mum and Mr H will have their usual mustard on the side, I'll go childlike and have tomato ketchup..
For sweet....(love that word and alternate name for 'afters') I've concocted a sponge pudding which will be nuked for a few minutes.
See recipe below.
This is below.
Butter a 1 pint pudding basin and place some brown sugar in it. On top of the sugar put three tinned apricots then top with a very basic pudding mix. Margarine, sugar, egg, milk, flour....to which a teaspoon of ground ginger has been cleverly added.
I'll be able to nuke this on account of now being in possession of an excellent *Panasonic Microwave Oven so generously given to me by my friends, Mr and Mrs Hairy Suit. Thanks guys no more steamed windows...
A jug of Bird's custard is the only accessory required.
So dinner is pie and pudding. A fat affair. But a happy affair.
* My previous oven caught fire.
Spent a good time with mum this morning me sidling up to the bedside with a kitchen chair while she smiled... Does it for me dearie!
Yakked on like two over painted parrots then went out (after much to-ing and fro-ing regarding what to wear and painkillers) but I locked the door shortly before 11.
Hockley was lively.
Slow snakes of older people worming their way in and out of shops all seemingly in worlds of their own. Bump bump ooh sorry blah etc...
Mum bought her usual box of books, me grabbing yorkshire pudding tins, four dariole tins, blue plastic jug and I, Robot.
Also picked up for a snip Josceline Dimbleby's Mince Cookbook.
Having so many heavy bags hanging orf the wheelchair made getting in and out of shops a little difficult but an angel of say 50+ did aid our exiting of the sweet shop by rushing to grab hold of the door.
And as the wind blew so mum's fine hair stood up like terrified stick insects. She really must get it cut.
Me, I looked like a cross between a saint and a killer auntie.
Home now and as soon as I finish here I'll make dinner for mum then make hay for meself.
(bread and Cornish pastie pie)
Sex For Carers.com. is now defunct
Yakked on like two over painted parrots then went out (after much to-ing and fro-ing regarding what to wear and painkillers) but I locked the door shortly before 11.
Hockley was lively.
Slow snakes of older people worming their way in and out of shops all seemingly in worlds of their own. Bump bump ooh sorry blah etc...
Mum bought her usual box of books, me grabbing yorkshire pudding tins, four dariole tins, blue plastic jug and I, Robot.
Also picked up for a snip Josceline Dimbleby's Mince Cookbook.
Having so many heavy bags hanging orf the wheelchair made getting in and out of shops a little difficult but an angel of say 50+ did aid our exiting of the sweet shop by rushing to grab hold of the door.
And as the wind blew so mum's fine hair stood up like terrified stick insects. She really must get it cut.
Me, I looked like a cross between a saint and a killer auntie.
Home now and as soon as I finish here I'll make dinner for mum then make hay for meself.
(bread and Cornish pastie pie)
Sex For Carers.com. is now defunct
Sunday, 28 October 2012
Friday, 26 October 2012
Fifty Shades of Duck Egg Blue
.I thought today would the ideal day for Mother and myself to pop into Homebase so with my Carer's Allowance in me handbag I drove to Purdey's Industrial Estate. A miserable looking community scattered with boring white painted buildings and large lorries. But I had to go there today because otherwise it would have meant leading Mr H around other home improvement joints tomorrow, and there was no way I was a gonna face that. For pitys sake this week has been bad enough so the thought of inviting more stress was out of the question. So Friday morning in Homebase it was.
The tired looking redhead leaning on the till got flustered when I asked for a little trolley for the little wheelchair. "Er...." she said and pressed a button which brought forth slowly another creased face old trout.
"Need a special trolley for the wheelchair" said redhead
Away went trout number two mumbling...
But Mother and I were ok, we're getting used to dealing with sorts like this. I only wished they'd recognize mum as a legitimate, if silent, customer who is just like all customers; she wants to be spoken to rather than treated like she doesn't exist and prefers it when people don't talk over her head...... (by the way one of the worst exponents of that was blood taker Pauline who on Tuesday completely ignored mum speaking instead to me about 'her'.."When was 'her' last hospital visit?" etc etc.
I digress.
We got the trolley and redhead smiled apologetically saying "Sorry took so long"
Steering mum is awkward with trolley attached and I sometimes knock down a few things but Homebase was spacious so we glided calamity free.
First thing to load was kitchen wall paint. I plumped for Duck Egg blue. Ok Duck Egg blue is a regular colour, much gentler than sky blue but I didn't know there were so many Duck Blues. A lighter duck, a greyer duck and a gaudy duck...But as I carefully placed the tin the trolley I knew I'd found the right one.
"Tile paint?" I asked 50+ floorwalker Roy "Where is it?"
Instead of pointing and giving directions Roy took me there, oh did he...Took me and mum and wheelchair and trolley straight to shelves and shelves of paint.
"What culler y'want and wherz it going?
"White please Roy, splashback dear." Said I knowing my brilliant smile would bring forth one from 'im.
I was right.
A great whale sized smile enveloped his small face "Ronseal alright?"
Being a mischievous flirt I piped up..
"I don't know, is he?"
Laugh...You'd have thought I'd told the Joke of the Century.
Roy, still grinning, dropped Ron Seal in me trolley saying if there was anything else just give him a call.
Next aisle was the brush one where I fingered through millions of expensive brushes made of cow hair or chinchilla or something but eventually plumping for two regular basic man made plastic types. Also picked up a basic Roller.
By now mum was fluttery and pale and I didn't like the look of her so made a bee line for Uncle Roy who immediately ran orf to get mum a cup of water.
Roy was kindly, talking to mum instead of me.
After a few moans and sips we trundled on choosing a small can of brilliant white gloss for the cupboards, cheapo polyfilla and sugarsoap.
We paid Redhead and she redeemed herself by offering to help me to my car.
"We're alright, thank you" And orf we went mother and I loaded with fun stuff for John's weekend:)
Going home wasn't a straight trek, we stopped orf at a charity shop where mum bought three Jeffrey Archer books and I bought a pair of sensible shoes for Mr Horsehound.
Home in never ending rain to a light dinner of Scotch broth and buttered roll (mum) and crackers and cheese triangles for me.
Apart from mum's weakness by the matt emulsions we enjoyed our shopping trip and that's what it is all about. Right Roy? !
The tired looking redhead leaning on the till got flustered when I asked for a little trolley for the little wheelchair. "Er...." she said and pressed a button which brought forth slowly another creased face old trout.
"Need a special trolley for the wheelchair" said redhead
Away went trout number two mumbling...
But Mother and I were ok, we're getting used to dealing with sorts like this. I only wished they'd recognize mum as a legitimate, if silent, customer who is just like all customers; she wants to be spoken to rather than treated like she doesn't exist and prefers it when people don't talk over her head...... (by the way one of the worst exponents of that was blood taker Pauline who on Tuesday completely ignored mum speaking instead to me about 'her'.."When was 'her' last hospital visit?" etc etc.
I digress.
We got the trolley and redhead smiled apologetically saying "Sorry took so long"
Steering mum is awkward with trolley attached and I sometimes knock down a few things but Homebase was spacious so we glided calamity free.
First thing to load was kitchen wall paint. I plumped for Duck Egg blue. Ok Duck Egg blue is a regular colour, much gentler than sky blue but I didn't know there were so many Duck Blues. A lighter duck, a greyer duck and a gaudy duck...But as I carefully placed the tin the trolley I knew I'd found the right one.
"Tile paint?" I asked 50+ floorwalker Roy "Where is it?"
Instead of pointing and giving directions Roy took me there, oh did he...Took me and mum and wheelchair and trolley straight to shelves and shelves of paint.
"What culler y'want and wherz it going?
"White please Roy, splashback dear." Said I knowing my brilliant smile would bring forth one from 'im.
I was right.
A great whale sized smile enveloped his small face "Ronseal alright?"
Being a mischievous flirt I piped up..
"I don't know, is he?"
Laugh...You'd have thought I'd told the Joke of the Century.
Roy, still grinning, dropped Ron Seal in me trolley saying if there was anything else just give him a call.
Next aisle was the brush one where I fingered through millions of expensive brushes made of cow hair or chinchilla or something but eventually plumping for two regular basic man made plastic types. Also picked up a basic Roller.
By now mum was fluttery and pale and I didn't like the look of her so made a bee line for Uncle Roy who immediately ran orf to get mum a cup of water.
Roy was kindly, talking to mum instead of me.
After a few moans and sips we trundled on choosing a small can of brilliant white gloss for the cupboards, cheapo polyfilla and sugarsoap.
We paid Redhead and she redeemed herself by offering to help me to my car.
"We're alright, thank you" And orf we went mother and I loaded with fun stuff for John's weekend:)
Going home wasn't a straight trek, we stopped orf at a charity shop where mum bought three Jeffrey Archer books and I bought a pair of sensible shoes for Mr Horsehound.
Home in never ending rain to a light dinner of Scotch broth and buttered roll (mum) and crackers and cheese triangles for me.
Apart from mum's weakness by the matt emulsions we enjoyed our shopping trip and that's what it is all about. Right Roy? !
Wednesday, 24 October 2012
The Mixing Bowl
Today into my enormous blue one I put flour, cinnamon, mixed spice and ginger...Then soft margarine, golden syrup, egg, milk and sugar..beat it well then, with grubby wooden spoon in sink, I scattered lots of slivered almonds into a greased fluted bun tin...
Mix made...And onto the almonds it fell in gentle loving spoonfuls.
When baked these funny little upside down delicacies are called Coburg Buns. Gorgeous with a cup of tea but wickedly good dipped into coffee.
The Baking Bug has really got me, got me so bad that I'm either baking or reading about baking or talking about baking and if I'm not do any of those I'm looking at three tiered cake plates loaded with bakedness.
Mother thinks I overdo it. I don't. I love it..one can overdo love. Baking and feeding people makes me happy and I need all the happy I can lay my floured mitts on:)
Cooking today will be Cumberland sausages with mash and Mary Berry's onion gravy. For veg... steamed cauliflower and tinned peas.
Pud will be Chocolate Castle Puddings and yoghurt.
Talking of tartness I found an old cook book at mum's...Elizabeth Craig's Simple Cooking published 1934:(
Brains, calves feet and cakes....Miss Craig....."It's no good telling me that you can't afford to be a good cook. You can't afford not to be one. The less money you have to spend the more you should know about cooking. If I had my way I'd teach every girl to make the most of every scrap of food. It's nonsense to say a good cook is born, not made"
Mix made...And onto the almonds it fell in gentle loving spoonfuls.
When baked these funny little upside down delicacies are called Coburg Buns. Gorgeous with a cup of tea but wickedly good dipped into coffee.
The Baking Bug has really got me, got me so bad that I'm either baking or reading about baking or talking about baking and if I'm not do any of those I'm looking at three tiered cake plates loaded with bakedness.
Mother thinks I overdo it. I don't. I love it..one can overdo love. Baking and feeding people makes me happy and I need all the happy I can lay my floured mitts on:)
Cooking today will be Cumberland sausages with mash and Mary Berry's onion gravy. For veg... steamed cauliflower and tinned peas.
Pud will be Chocolate Castle Puddings and yoghurt.
Talking of tartness I found an old cook book at mum's...Elizabeth Craig's Simple Cooking published 1934:(
Brains, calves feet and cakes....Miss Craig....."It's no good telling me that you can't afford to be a good cook. You can't afford not to be one. The less money you have to spend the more you should know about cooking. If I had my way I'd teach every girl to make the most of every scrap of food. It's nonsense to say a good cook is born, not made"
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