ginger grandma's blog

appreciating friends

2012-05-14T20:54:00.000+01:00

Whilst we've always made time to see immediate family, friends and more distant relations have suffered from short measures whilst our working life has taken up so much of our time. As I settle into retirement, I have the luxury of time to catch up with some folks I haven't seen for far too long. Alas, in one case it was too late. Dear Rosa, who liked to keep her age to herself but, it transpired, was only a couple of years younger than Mum, died last week as a result of two major strokes. There's a moral lurking hereabouts…

Rosa was one of the first people I met after moving here over twenty years ago. Having enrolled on an academic course at the local FE College, I decided to look for complementary activity; something a little more creative, and joined a lace making group. Rosa with her partner hosted the small group, some of whom still regularly meet at our house (although now none choose lace making as their preferred craft).

On a far happier note, a couple of weeks ago I had supper in town with three people I worked with over six years ago. Rachel, who has recently returned from two years travelling with her partner and is about to start a new life in Sussex, did a great job of getting us together. They hadn't changed one bit and we've promised to keep in touch. We were however missing one important person, someone I hadn't seen since our wedding anniversary party in July 2010. I promised to make sure Sam would join us the next time we met and set about unearthing her email address which I discovered on her Parish Church website.

Finally, on Monday, Sam and I met up. We've always got on like house on fire and when life has been a bit humdrum, I've thought fondly about her bubbly sense of humour and quick wit. Thankfully, she's one of those friends who doesn't hold it against me when we loose touch for a while, and with whom I'm able to pick up the threads and carry on where we left off. Over coffee and lunch we caught up with family news and dwelt (but not for long) on former colleagues - OK, one 'bad apple' in particular. More lightheartedly, we talked about knitting, sewing and her unsavoury neighbours who have discarded a redundant toilet pan in their front garden, right in Sam's line of sight. We commiserated with one another on our reduced finances and I discovered how she spent her allotment shed money on a ball gown which she wore to a very disappointing event. I forgot to tell her the huge amount we spent on a Medieval Banquet recently. Although we don't need a shed, there are lots we will need to complete our building works - due to begin very shortly - and making choices is definitely the order of the day.

I spent quality 'girl' time with another friend recently too. I arranged to meet Sheila who I have seen more regularly, for a bead making session last week. We had a smashing few hours chatting over lunch and making jewellery with beads we bought in Cheltenham before Easter. Sheila, Sam and I have also enjoyed time together in the past and we've decided that the three of us should rekindle our friendship - we've made a date in mi-June.

I'm not the only one 'making hay…'. On Monday Kate started her maternity leave. With only two weeks before Baby F-L is due, she sent a text message to this effect: "Had my hair cut. Just having a coffee then heading back to the house to talk to the decorator. Meeting Andrea and baby Eliza on the South Bank for lunch then home to put my feet up so that I'm rested and ready to meet HRH tomorrow." Who knows, the next time there's a Ginger Grandma update, it may be with baby news.

Tomorrow I'm off to Southampton airport to meet friends, Karin and Hartmut. We enjoy our annual get together and in particular I like to hear their family news (they have eight children and several grandchildren). We're on their Christmas round robin circulation list but our German is non existent and the online free translator produces a very weird/often hilarious account of life in Lower Saxony. Thankfully, they speak very good English and can tell me their news in a language I do understand.

looking to the future

2012-05-09T21:46:00.000+01:00

Occasionally I take a casual peek at Catherine Tennant's horoscope readings in the Saturday supplement. This is what she had to say recently:

"This week's tranquil skies help you to relax, stand back and see the bigger picture. This is the ideal time to tune into you deeper feelings and reassess your long-term goals, so put ambitious plans on hold and think through where you really want to go from here. What matters now is being true to your own vision."

Tranquil skies apart (she's almost certainly talking about the heavens, we haven't seen many tranquil skies of late), it might have been written for me. I haven't really decided what I hope to achieve over the next few years. In fact, since Ginger Grandpa is retiring at the end of this month, the two of us need to work out what we want individually and together. It's well over a month since my last day at work and the non-salaried next phase of my life is beginning to shake down. The three of us are getting used to being under each other's feet throughout the day and I've started working through my list of 'jobs to do in retirement'. My first pension payment is in the bank and we've invested some time researching and securing better household expenses deals.

One of the benefits of retirement is more efficient housekeeping. I've also drawn up a monthly menu plan and ordered groceries online to help guard against impulse buying. Another benefit is being able to socialise during the hours of nine to five, Monday to Friday. I've enjoyed a couple of lunch and a couple of afternoon tea dates since the end of March. Today we had tea with Debbie who, whilst I was at work, kept our house clean. I must have mentioned before how much we miss her! Tea consisted of scones, clotted cream and jam, cheese scones, shortbread biscuits, apricot and pecan loaf and strawberries and cream. Mum worked her magic setting a pretty tea table, we brought out seldom used china and crystal and I wore my Cath Kidston apron for the first time (thank you Santa).

I'm not surprised afternoon tea is enjoying something of a revival. It's so relaxing; lasts for just the right amount of time and is easy to cater for. After all, who doesn't like baked goods?

spume with a view

2012-04-30T22:08:00.001+01:00

I'm so glad we took a trip to Sidmouth sea front before returning home today. After another night of high winds, a rocking caravan and more camp site devastation we knew the usual benign ocean would present something remarkable. And, how!

The first suggestion of something extraordinary was the filthy windows along the sea front where only three days ago the panes of glass sparkled in the sun. Then turning onto the Esplanade itself, the fine mist-like sea spray and the frothy sandy spume flying through the air where the waves lashed against the breakwater, told their stormy story.

During the hours of daylight thankfully the wind and rain has subsided although the Environment Agency still has flood warnings on 19 rivers in the South West. The River Tone which flows through the centre of Taunton is no exception and after picking the boys up from school we took them to French Weir Park to see the extent of the flood. In the past James has had an irrational fear of heavy rain and flooding but he seemed to take today's experience in his stride and enjoyed getting his feet wet. Grandpa and William ventured further along the river to where the Willow Cathedral is sitting in a lake of water. What a good job willow also likes getting its feet wet. More photos here.

And as I sit writing this post, perhaps unsurprisingly, it's started to rain again.

proper 'stormy' job

2012-04-29T10:50:00.000+01:00

Heavens, what a night. It was very like trying to sleep through the worst imaginable in-flight turbulence (something we experienced on our flight back from St Lucia some years ago, when poor Becky was suffering simultaneously from food poisoning).

I slept very fitfully, waking, it seemed at each major gust, when the caravan was buffeted broadside. All alone (ginger grandpa was unconcerned and sleeping beside me), I made evacuation plans half expecting for the site warden to knock on the door and give us five minutes to leave. Before going to bed I put the laptop and iPad in the bag, my shoulder bag next to the bed and my PJs and fleece at hand. I stowed away the kettle and the glasses and imagined what it might be like to overturn with a full toilet cassette - our bed is next to the toilet cubical - ugh!

I tossed and turned and at one point let the window blind up. I know not why, as it only served to worry me more as I watched the silhouette of the large fir tree almost bend double in the wind. What I didn't appreciate was the devastation to one or two caravan awnings. At least I'd persuaded ginger grandpa that we didn't need to use our awning on this occasion. One less thing for me to loose sleep over.

It's now just past midday and the rain hasn't abated, although thankfully the wind isn't gusting to such a degree (see the Met Office chart - image left - for tomorrow's forecast! ). Grandpa made it as far as the boot of the car (2 metres max) to fetch more drinking water and I've been reflecting on my fear levels.

As I watch a fellow caravaner check his storm guys and batten down his hatches and another battle against the wind as they make their way to the washroom, I thought back to an event which occurred in August 1979 i.e. The Fastnet Race tragedy when 15 competitors lost their lives during a freak storm. At the time we were living in a village to the south of Bristol; Kate was a couple of months old and my 16 year old brother had come to stay for a holiday. Eric was working late and the storm was raging. Stuck in the house with the children and my brother our thoughts turned to food. My brother fancied a Chinese takeaway and the nearest restaurant offering the service was five miles away. In those days I didn't drive so the only thing for it was for my brother to use my bike (with child seat, no harness). That would have been bad enough, but 4 year old Vicki opted to accompany him. If Gortex was invented I certainly hadn't heard of it. I bundled Vicki up in layers and a thin nylon cagoule and off they went. I can't remember the food - it was more than likely stone cold - but I can remember Eric's fury when he discovered what had transpired whilst he was out dealing with storm related emergencies.

Clearly I'm more fearful, indeed panicky, these days…

ginger grandma's birthday weekend

2012-04-22T22:03:00.000+01:00

It all began at lunchtime on Friday. We packed the car, stopped off at Waitrose where Mum, responsible for Saturday's brunch, stocked up on bacon, sausages, mushrooms and eggs and continued on our way to our weekend retreat on the edge of Dartmoor where we prepared to welcome the family. Arriving just a half an hour later and in her usual style, Becky entered with half her batterie de cuisine and a significant amount of Darts Farm produce. Almost immediately she began to prepare Friday night's supper whilst elsewhere in the house Paul and Aaron 'geared up' for a weekend of snooker.

Just after 7.00pm Vicki, Paul and the boys arrived. More food arrived and the fridge was rearranged to accommodate it.

Becky did an excellent job of working out the complexities of the Aga. We would suggest that holiday homes with Agas, and no alternative/more conventional cooker, at least provide some instruction. In its defence, we were provided with a comprehensive 'how to' file which explained how to use a hairdryer. It's just that most people would be able to fathom that out for themselves. This minor gripe aside, the roast belly pork, the first local asparagus, braised red cabbage and parsnip and potato dauphinoise was followed by cranachan and chocolate orange cake and was very tasty indeed.

The house we rented for the occasion was wonderful. Set in the midst of Devon's glorious Dartmoor National Park, it offered a heated indoor swimming pool, a snooker room and plenty of living rooms including a large family kitchen with sofa and leather chair and footstool. Ginger grandpa and I slept in a very high four poster bed which we climbed into with the help of a foot stool. James didn't have any such problem. He clambered on the bed at 7.00am on Saturday morning, rudely waking us with the following, "I spy with my little eye something beginning with 'p' and there are two of them". Through bleary eyes I duly searched the room without success. "Do you give up; do you?" James asked. Having replied "yes', he said, "people of course, there are two of them". Apparently he hadn't counted himself although I can vouch for the fact he was most definitely there!

At times like that there's nothing for it but to go downstairs for a morning cuppa. Still only half awake, I was greeted with balloons, banners, butterfly sprinkles on the table. It took me sometime to register the series of photos, documenting the decades of my life, especially the one of which my head was 'photoshopped' onto Marilyn Monroe's naked body. Ever the optimist, I thought it was all me!

All of this added to my excitement. I felt like a child at Christmas.

The final family members - Kate and Hannah - arrived just after 10.00am with yet more food. The fridge, by this time, was groaning under the weight of its contents and we had to remove some bottles to make way for Saturday's supper ingredients. We'd missed the girls on Friday evening but made up for it when they arrived and it was at this point that the family presented me with my birthday gift - a coveted iPad 3. I couldn't believe it especially since ginger grandpa had been trying to persuade me that I really didn't need one.

When we were planning the weekend, my only stipulation was for it to be relaxing for everyone and for no one to do anything they didn't want to. Therefore, after a leisurely brunch and the boys' first dip in the swimming pool, just four of us donned walking boots and took to the hills. It was just what I needed and on our return, I felt justified in having a slice of the red velvet birthday cake. By now it was mid-afternoon and some folk, including ginger grandpa, returned to the pool whilst I took a luxurious nap in the four poster. As I was drifting off I could smell frying onions as Hannah prepared lasagne for supper. By this time it was evident that we weren't going to eat the minor meal foods that everyone had contributed, 'just in case'.

After a relatively early night - we're a family of 'light-weights' - we woke to the general clear up which precedes vacating a holiday property at 10.00am. Mum had done a very good job in the kitchen which made life a whole lot easier and it was only fifteen minutes past our deadline when we pulled out of the drive in convoy.

To complete the celebration we walked from Fingle Bridge towards Castle Drogo then lunched at Nobody Inn in Doddiscombsleigh where they do a very good Sunday lunch. I wrapped some lovely pink roast beef in a napkin to bring home, making a mental note to put a couple of zip lock bags in my handbag for just such an occasion.

You can probably tell that I had the very best birthday. Aged 83 to just 5 years old, my family who pulled out all the stops, made it so. The experience exceeded my expectations and I'd do it all again, at the drop of a hat.

More photos here.

advice from national trust

2012-04-15T19:34:00.000+01:00

It's not really a coincidence that the NT issued a challenge for the under 12s just as we decided to take the boys to a nearby NT property with lots of space for children to enjoy the outdoors. Clearly the Trust timed the publicity to coincide with the Easter holidays and the beginning of their main visitor season.

Ginger Grandpa and I had a discussion about the boys safety as they climbed over a precarious-ish woodpile. Grandpa who is more risk adverse than me (and that's saying something) strongly suggested that they come away whilst I was determined that James, who sought my help to ensure his safety, tested his footholds and made his own decision as to whether underfoot was strong enough to support his weight. He wasn't likely to come to very much harm if he slipped and the wood pile was in the children's small adventure play area. Surely it would have been located elsewhere if children should stay clear.

Having exhausted the play area, the boys then spent a good hour finding lengths of shatterproof branch (felled, I should stress) with which to beat to smithereens a tree trunk and subsequently make 'music' using the various notes they produced. Some may say, 'little things please little minds', I say, 'thumbs up for simple childhood pleasures and fun out of doors'. Click here for more photos.

As well as the the physical activity, James is exploring the possibility of becoming a Guiness World Record holder for the length of time to suck into oblivion a wine gum. Any ideas? He made his last 17 minutes - it would have been longer if it hadn't slipped off his tongue and under his car seat!

a week in london - part 2

2012-04-08T20:58:00.000+01:00

Dear reader(s?), we’re back home after almost a week in London, (explaining the lack of posts). This is where retirement really begins and as we were packing away our travel paraphernalia, it suddenly dawned that we’ve waved a fond farewell to Debbie who has kept me sane and allowed our weekends to be our own, by taking charge of our housework over the last few years. I’ll miss her help like mad but in all honesty, I just can’t justify continuing to pay for household help.

Thursday
We toasted bread in the living room this morning before leaving for Willesdon to view bifold doors. Actually, we left Kate and Hannah to it but as we waited in the car, we seriously thought they’d been abducted. They’d been inside a very dubious looking industrial estate unit for ages, so long in fact that we only just made it to our lunch appointment in reasonable time.

Kate treated us to lunch to celebrate Hannah’s birthday. I didn’t know quite what to expect from a nursery restaurant awarded a Michelin Star in 2011, especially when the chef responsible, Skye Gyngell who alas is no longer there, described an earth floor with rickety chairs and odd glasses. I don’t know who is responsible for styling but it’s something very special indeed and the food delicious. Skinny Bib who obviously has more experience than me of Michelin Star restaurants was not convinced the accolade was deserved when she visited just over a year ago. It seems reviews such as this one is what tipped Skye Gyngell over the edge. My menu choices were buffalo ricotta and tomato salad, guinea fowl followed by chocolate tart. It was only as my chocolate tart arrived that I remembered I’d given up chocolate for Lent.

All we had the energy for in the evening was a gentle film - The Help. Even Ginger Grandpa enjoyed it. I may have said before, but we seldom like the same films.

Good Friday
We celebrated the fact that the builders had a day off with a lie in, then breakfast at Orange Pekoe before continuing on the same lazy day theme with a gentle stroll around the London Wetland Centre where we had a mediocre carrot cake or scones. Hannah made baked salmon and honey accompanied by sautéd green vegetables with chorizo. Salmon and honey - a real winner.

Following the tradition of film watching and a reasonably early night we saw The Kids are All Right.

Saturday
Oooh, I was very much looking forward to brunch at Sonny's and it lived up to expectations; the buttermilk pancakes with bacon and maple syrup were as light as a feather. Then as we were eating, in walked Geraldine McEwan to collect a celebration cake. How exciting! But, we won’t be visiting the restaurant in the same guise ever again. The website states:

Sonny’s is open for lunch and dinner on Good Friday, Saturday April 7th and for lunch on Easter Sunday. Then we are closing...
After an extraordinary 26 solo years, Sonny’s is going into partnership with the wonderful Phil Howard.
The restaurant and food shop will now be closed for a few weeks for an exciting make-over, planning to re-open at the beginning of May as Sonny’s Kitchen.
To receive further updates, as the new menus, preview and opening dates are finalised, do please enter your email address below, so that we can
keep you posted.

Our next excursion was to watch the 158th Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race and what an extraordinary event that was. First as we shivered on the bank of the River Thames we spotted Clare Balding fly past in a speed boat. This heralded the start of the race - she’d commentated on the start and was heading to the finish line. Then we saw activity in the distance on the bend by Hammersmith Bridge but no progress. What was going on!? Someone on a balcony above us told spectators below that there was a man in the water. OK, if you say so...

The rest is well documented. We did wait to see the race then legged it back to the house to thaw out and catch the news, only to discover that one of the Oxford crew was unconscious. What a calamity! We’re not going to forget our only live experience of the Boat Race in a hurry.

Bet you can’t imagine what we did in the evening? Yep, we watched a film. But this time on the large screen. Ginger Grandpa and I can’t recall the last time we went to the cinema and the little studio cinema in Richmond was little bigger than our living room but I liked that. We saw The Artist - very clever; a little slow to begin, but humorous and worth seeing for its uniqueness.

And, that’s what we did with our week in London. For more photos click here.

a week in london - part 1

2012-04-04T20:23:00.000+01:00

Our week in London is the best start to the rest of my life. Aren’t we lucky that Kate and Hannah live in one of the nicest part of London, and that they were happy, despite their extensive kitchen and dining room renovation project, to have us stay with them.

Should you wonder what we’ve been up to, the following is a diary of the highlights:

Monday
Dropped Mum off at Bro and family’s. Thank you Bro for a very welcome lunch; your roast ham is always delicious. May we share it with you many more times.

We arrived at Kate and Hannah’s (Hannah worked until late but Kate snuck away early to greet us) in time for tea before taking the bus and tube to David Hockney’s RA exhibition ‘A Bigger Picture’. Kate suggested we buy Oyster Cards to reduce our week’s public transport expenses and I should tell you I was the brunt of her and Ginger Grandpa’s jokes when I failed to grasp the concept of “tap in/tap out”. I thought it very unhelpful of them to stand in hysterics whilst I variously waved my card and tapped the disc with my hand. It took a kind stranger to grab my hand (the one with the card in) and place it firmly where it should be. I won’t forget the humiliation in a hurry!

Anyway - as someone close says when she wants the subject of the conversation to change - thankfully I’d booked an exhibition viewing as the queues of folk, many of whom had taken their chance hot foot from the office with briefcase in hand, snaked wearily through the courtyard. Goodness only knows what time they would make it into the gallery which was open until midnight. I’m not sure I would have had the stamina.

I’m very glad I saw his work which was striking, bold and bursting with colour but the number of visitors rather detracted from the visual impact and from my personal experience. Someone Kate knows was privy to a private viewing. Now wouldn’t that have been something.

Tuesday
On her way to work, Kate dropped us off in Kew where we breakfasted at Kew Greenhouse café (the builders arrive very early and at that point what passes as a temporary kitchen is out of action) before visiting one of our very favourite places, the famous gardens.

We hadn’t previously visited Kew Gardens’ treetop walkway but arriving before the crowd, we headed that way early on. It offers amazing views but with a poor head for heights, I didn’t feel entirely comfortable as small children rattled and wobbled the heavy metal mesh underfoot.

We watched A Week with Marilyn in the evening. There’s something very yummy about Eddie Redmayne. I’m sure I shouldn’t be talking in that way about someone younger than my youngest daughter although I’m ever so slightly dubious about the fact he uses a Burberry bronzer. Apparently, ginger and pasty isn’t good. Oh well, bad luck me!

Wednesday
Again we breakfasted en route to our destination which this time was the Churchill or Cabinet War Rooms. We took the tube to St James Park and used my iPhone map app (very clever) to find our exact destination. We’d timed it perfectly. Everyone else was up the road watching the Changing of the Guard.

We’d been wanting to visit for a long time and I don’t think it will be our last. I really like the scale and the focussed exhibition. You feel you can do it justice. I especially liked the 15 metre interactive timeline which would be fantastic on an iPad.

We also popped into Liberty to browse and have tea. I suggested Ginger Grandpa might like a cream tea but noticed the size of the scones - minuscule! I’m not mean, but the toasted teacakes, served with butter, marmalade and jam, were delicious and a much better deal. I don’t think I’ve eaten toasted teacakes with marmalade before but it’s good.

Wednesday was also Hannah’s birthday but both Kate and Hannah were working. We celebrated the following day, although we did watch Hannah open her presents before she left for work in the morning. Wednesday was also the day former colleague, Jinny, was booked in to deliver her twins. I hope someone soon lets me know how it went. I expect it will be some time before Jinny gets the time to send emails.

new beginning

2012-03-30T19:39:00.000+01:00

I've had a lovely day. I spent it with the other three members of my team in Bath. We left Taunton just before ten o'clock and arrived a few minutes after eleven o'clock. We wandered around the new Southgate shopping centre, discovered Hall & Woodhouse for our coffee break then strolled around The Circus, The Royal Crescent and on to Pulteney Bridge before meandering back through the little shopping lanes towards Jamie's where I was treated to a delicious lunch and a couple of glasses of chilled Prosecco. The sun came out as we ate our leisurely lunch and then we caught the train home.

I was neither sad nor left with a feeling of anti climax. It was the perfect end to the best job with the best colleagues. People I've worked with dropped by the office to say cheerio yesterday afternoon - Ian had invited them to open house with tea and chocolate biscuits, then a few who weren't able to join us either called in first thing this morning or rang throughout the today.

For those who are keen to avoid emotional farewells and who work with a small number of people, I can thoroughly recommend a day out rather than suffering the presentation in front of large numbers, emptying the inbox, shredding years of redundant riles and then vacating the desk at five o'clock on leaving day.

It's been a rocky road, from my meeting with the chief executive last September until the beginning of this week. Then suddenly everything felt alright. I now feel thoroughly relaxed about retirement and perhaps the fact I'm referring to it as retirement rather than redundancy is a testament to that.

The photo above is how I choose to remember my colleagues. Mark and Alastair are bike and motor bike fanatics and are fixing a broken pedal on Ian's wife's bike. We've regularly had three or four bikes in our office - I stress in our office, not in the bike shed! Oh happy days.

times they are a-changing

2012-03-25T18:18:00.000+01:00

I've had some sage advice from Margaret and it's really got me thinking. She said I should allow myself some time to 'drift'. On reflection, I've found myself volunteering, to the various groups I support, more time once my paid work has come to an end. I've been updating our home calendar with appointments and meetings that until now have been on my work calendar and as you might expect, there are more committed days than free and what's more, I've double booked.

I've definitely been distracted of late. First there were our relocations plans - thankfully abandoned; then my redundancy. I'll be honest, I can't wait for Friday - I need it to be over and to get on with the rest of my life.

Happily yesterday's plans did work out. Sheila and I had a lovely day together. It reminded me of the days pre-1994, before I took on full-time employment. We had moved to our present home from another town and I was looking to take up a hobby. I'd enrolled on an academic course and sought something more creative. I opted for lacemaking and met a great crowd of women with whom I visited lace days and tutorials. I haven't made lace for years and only see the friends I made very occasionally. I think, over the years, I've let my work absorb most of my energy. ITS TIME FOR A CHANGE!!

On a more positive note, the garden makeover is progressing well although we won't turf until after the building project is completed. Eric has moved the shed to the end of the garden and painted it a pretty shade of blue with stone highlights. It's much more attractive than the original dark green. The gorgeous weather and unseasonable temperatures have provided Eric with perfect conditions for hard physical work in the garden and he's worked off some excess weight in the bargain.

You'd be surprised if I hadn't spent some time in the kitchen today and as we've suffered from lack of cake in the cake tin for over a week, I scanned Dan Lepard's recipes for something new. I had the ingredients (more or less) for his Lemon Butter Cake, which in his book Short and Sweet is a slightly different recipe to this one in his Guardian column. My version was different again as I used up the zest and juice of half a lime and a small blood orange; mine was more of a Citrus Butter Cake and delicious. Just as Dan says, refreshingly it's not over-sweet.

the apple experience

2012-03-19T17:44:00.000Z

I could count on the fingers of one hand how many times I've been in a apple store, one, because there isn't one for over 40 miles and I usually shop much closer to home and two, because the products they sell aren't everyday items. And, I tell you, I lapped up the apple retail experience when we bought my iPhone on Friday afternoon - yes, you read correctly, I am now the proud owner of an iPhone 4s with Siri, my very own intelligent assistant (not sure my assistant and I have cemented an intelligent relationship quite yet). I'll give you an example of where things didn't quite go as they might - one of our girls has a name which rhymes with one of the emergency services. You can guess the rest! I was hoping Siri might switch on the kettle to greet us with a cuppa when we arrived home, or perhaps put the vacuum sweeper over the carpet before visitors arrived. One day…

Back to the apple retail experience. I completely forgot that our excursion clashed with the launch of the iPad3 but quickly twigged when we were greeted at the door by a number of large men in black suits looking as friendly as they could in a menacing kind of way. Once over the threshold and winding our way past the iPad3 demonstration we located the phones and tentatively started playing with it. A nice young man in his branded tee shirt came over and engaged us in conversation about the item. We asked a few questions about the phone itself and then told him how we hoped to use it as a GPS device when walking. He searched for apps that might be of interest and then demonstrated the camera. He helped us with connectivity which we'd already researched but it was reassuring that we came to the same conclusion. Once we'd made our choice he invited us up the glass stairs to the first floor. As we arrived on the landing, another assistant came out from a door on our left with the package which was handed to me with the comment, "I'm sure you'd like to unwrap it yourself". You bet I did! If you've experienced apple packaging you'll know why. I can't bear to throw it away it's so gorgeous.

We walked over to a large high table where we were handed to another assistant who was introduced as the person who would set the phone up ready for use. He popped it in its new case (which I'd chosen with no regard to cost - money somehow is irrelevant in this environment) and talked me through the registration process. While I struggled to remember my apple id, he turned to the customer on his left and helped him through an iPad 2 exchange for an iPad3 without making me feel unattended or any less special (I know what you're thinking). Then BINGO we had a connection. What else would I like him to go through, he asked. "Nothing, thank you", I said adding, "the best bit is taking it home and finding your way around it". He popped the packaging in a branded drawstring bag and wished us well.

I remembered, as we were about to leave the store, that the phone screen should be protected from the rough and tumble that goes on in a woman's handbag or in the hands of grandsons who like to play angry birds. Is there a counter or a checkout? No there isn't. I asked a friendly face who might serve us. "Anyone with one of these", he replied showing us an unapple-like black gadget which the majority of assistants (associates, specialists and creatives, to use the correct terminology) were carrying around with them. Despite the melee of iPad3 mania, I identified someone without a customer and accosted him. He showed me the product I needed for my particular phone and asked me if I would like him to apply it. "Yes please", I said, eager to prolong my apple experience as who knows when I'll have the excuse to go back. That was Friday.

I wouldn't want you to think my whole weekend was taken up with iPhone worship. We spent our first weekend of the season in our caravan. It was smashing to be back in our 'tin can on wheels'. All was well and watertight - I always worry a little when it's closed up for so long. Then, yesterday, Mothering Sunday, Becky invited us to tea along with Vicki, Paul and the boys. Becky is a very good baker, her scones are some of the lightest and most delicious I've tasted.

Not long after we arrived home there was a knock on the door - it was the florist with a beautiful tied bunch of pink roses, purple freesias and foliage. Aren't our girls the best - I wouldn't change them for all the tea in China!

a tiger in my tank

2012-03-14T19:09:00.000Z

Sorry, I meant to say there's a Lion in my operating system. You'll know what I mean if you're a mac user - not that I'm swanking (you don't hear that word much these days, do you?)

I was a little tired of not being able to sync my macbook pro with iCloud and my iPod touch so I took the plunge. I thought my iPod was a little out of date and may not play the game and I was right - so very second generation, don't you know. I'm considering an iPhone 4s but it's hard to persuade Ginger Grandpa who hates the addiction to mobile phones of any kind and despises their use in a social setting. I wonder, might he be tempted by the GPS mapping app…

Anyway, what have we been up to since I last posted? Kate and Hannah paid a visit on their way to a Christening and whilst here they chose the fabric for the patchwork cot quilt Mum is making and with guidance we ordered the pram (I've never seen such a complicated array of baby carriages). I'm pleased to report only ten more weeks until the expected arrival of Baby F-L and Kate is feeling very well. She has bags more energy than a few weeks ago and is no longer being sick.

As the flying visit cake to an end just after breakfast on Sunday and Eric was busy working on his back garden project aka Steptoe's yard - you should see it - I had time to do a bit of baking and have a girly catch up with Sheila who popped in for a cuppa after shopping in town. It was a rare treat to have a daytime visit from a girl friend - a pleasant taste of things to come as I've only 9 more days in the office until retirement. How scary is that!!

My baking this weekend continued on the non-chocolate theme. Did I say we've given up chocolate for Lent? Not for any religious reason but rather in an attempt to loose a few pounds (Ginger Grandpa has lost quite a few with all the physical work he's been doing of late and with all those released endorphins, mentally he's been feeling pretty good too).

Returning to the subject of baking, I made Dame Kiri Te Kanawa's Anzac Biscuits from my 1980s Food Aid Cookery Book and Nigella's gingerbread with lemon icing from How to be a Domestic Goddess. I'll be baking both recipes again. The boys love the biscuits as an after school snack.

Oh, and guess what… my tummy has felt so much better since giving up chocolate. Now isn't that interesting.

happy sundays

2012-03-04T17:27:00.000Z

This morning we woke to moderate rain; the first for a couple of weeks. Ginger Grandpa is in the middle of a garden makeover; he's not the tidiest of workers and the contents of our dismantled shed, scattered over the garden, continued to collect water until the rain ceased mid morning. Neither of us were disappointed that the garden project enjoyed a hiatus today, as the man of the house has worked tirelessly over the last ten days or so and badly needs to take a rest - but not before emptying the 'drip' tray in the loft which is placed strategically to prevent the leaky roof causing damage to the bathroom ceiling. Don't worry, our builder's on the case.

I love the rare morning when there's no urgency to get up and we can languish in bed with the newspapers and a cuppa. It was past 10 o'clock when rumbly tummies forced us to 'stir our stumps'. Before doing so I read the paper's Motoring Section, one I usually dismiss. Alexei Sayle who's now writing a column, caught my eye. In his usual indomitable style he takes readers on a walk-in-the-past through Piccadilly to the Design Centre. He tells us that the only car to be awarded the Centre's prestigious label was the quirky Austin Montego. He refuses to blame the British car industry (or at least those on the shop floor) for their products' poor reputation, having experienced at first hand a motor manufacture related industry and able to compare the working conditions with those in other countries.

Exhausted after this week's office move, the weekend has been quiet and the kitchen doings, mostly routine: granola, bread, roast chicken and apple crumble, although I did attempt to replicate a sticky toffee cake I had the pleasure of sharing with work colleagues last week. More often than not, on Mondays, Ian brings in baked goods that he buys from a local complementary therapist who bakes for charity. Sometimes these cakes and tray bakes are very good and sometimes exceptional - this week's was in the latter category. My version is different but has a good texture and a lovely rich taste. For interested readers, I adapted John Tovey's sticky toffee pudding recipe drenching the loaf in unadulterated butterscotch sauce from Nigella's Express. I thought John Tovey was the originator of sticky toffee pudding, but not according to Felicity Cloake, who credits another Lake District Chef and attempt to find the perfect recipe.

The other members of the household have enjoyed their leisure pursuits. Mum her patchwork and Ginger Grandpa his crossword. Happy Sunday!

popover for brunch

2012-02-26T16:11:00.000Z

On my bookshelf amongst the many cookery books is a BBC publication by John Tovey, former proprietor of the Miller Howe hotel in the Lake District. Eating Out With Tovey is a smallish paperback of little more than a centimetre thickness which cost just £6.95 on publication in 1988. I can't recollect the detail of the television series but I do know one or two things about the man himself. Nigel Slater, in his early days, worked with Tovey at Miller Howe as did Galton Blackiston who stayed around a lot longer; Delia Smith and her husband are very close friends of his; he retired to South Africa after selling Miller Howe which he purchased in 1971; he has a Cumbrian cheese named after him (although he despised the 'modern' name, Cumbria, insisting on using the older name Cumberland. I've used both the past and present tense whilst writing about Tovey - I just wish I knew what he was doing now; indeed, is he still alive? I believe he is as his name is listed amongst other notable chefs as a South African Chefs Association honorary member.

Deceased or hale and hearty (the latter, I hope), I'd like to thank John Tovey for providing us with a delicious Sunday brunch dish which we shared with Vicki, Paul and Mum - lime curd popovers. The recipe is no more than individual Yorkshire Puddings with a teaspoonful of citrus curd plopped into the centre before they go in the oven. Tovey says you might wish to substitute the lime curd with marmalade or jam but I think you should try this option. As he suggested a little sifted icing sugar directly after removing from the oven. The popovers followed smoked haddock with bubble and squeak.

Knowing how fussy the boys are, I presented their popovers 'on the rocks' except for the sprinkling of sugar. William wouldn't eat his - he'd have preferred them savoury with ketchup on the side, whereas James added a slug of golden syrup (he did clean his teeth afterwards!).

After brunch we made the most of the spring-like weather and headed for the hills. There's more photos here - mostly of the boys!

inappropriate footwear and brownies

2012-02-19T18:47:00.000Z

We've packed quite a lot into a couple of days with visitors coming and going and little time to devote to any one of them. In fact our eldest daughter complained that it was too rowdy for her and why hadn't her Dad and I made do with just one child - her! I laughed. It reminded me of Flannie Flagg's Standing in the Rainbow; the bit where Bobby's sister, Anna Lee, repeatedly annoyed by her younger brother asked her mother why she'd gone on to have anther child after her. The truth of the matter is that our three children were noisy enough on their own but as their families grow, the boisterousness grows exponentially and yes, when they gather together it can be overwhelming.

Our friend's daughter-in-law stayed over on Saturday night. She'd attended a week's course in Devon and left this morning for her home in the east of England. As we waved her goodbye, we piled in our car to meet Becky, Paul and Aaron at Burlescombe for a pre-lunch walk. There was a welcome promise of spring in the air.

As well as Karen, Kate also arrived for a quick visit and when Kate arrives Becky and Vicki arrive too. They're especially keen to see her as her pregnancy progresses. Kate came with a baby bag crammed with baby F-L's 'bottom drawer' but with no night attire and no walking footwear, or as William commented, no appropriate boots!

I spent yesterday cooking and have resolved to spend time assembling a repertoire of less complicated dishes for a crowd. I'd definitely bake Lorraine Pascale's cookie and cream brownies again. They were an undisputed success - a straw poll around the table awarded them an average of 8.5/10. They're very light and fudgy without being wet.

st valentine

2012-02-14T20:17:00.000Z

When Becky was a little girl she wrote a poignant news item following Guy Fawkes' night. She drew a picture of a bonfire and fireworks and wrote, 'The is someone else's bonfire and someone else's fireworks'. Imagine how uncomfortable we felt when we read her work at a parents' evening! We'd made a high handed decision based on 'money going up in smoke' with no regard to a small child's wishes, despite being indulged with firework parties when we ourselves were children.

I regard St Valentine's Day as I do New Year's Eve, that is, an overrated festival. Or do I?

I share the office with three men. The first had red roses delivered to the office yesterday so he could present them to his wife before leaving for work this morning - he's the oldest of the three and the most romantic. The second bought his wife an iphone (but couldn't bring himself to go without so bought one for himself at the same time) and the third, at the last moment, booked a table at probably the only restaurant in town with any available tables; because, he said, his wife changed her mind and decided she did want to go out after all. If I know anything at all about the male-female relationship, he'd completely misread the first message. (image courtesy of Gordon Coldwell and David Mills)

We tell each other, in our usual common sense fashion, that it's all a waste of money and that love is for all year not just one day, but if I'm honest I wouldn't turn down a card and some flowers. Just don't tell Eric!

reading and watching

2012-01-29T19:19:00.000Z

I haven't progressed to Kindle even though most of the family are converts. I'm not reluctant, in fact I can see a number of advantages. When I'm ready to switch off my bedside light, Eric turns on his tiny over-Kindle light and continues reading and I sleep on undisturbed. Storage too would be a factor in the transition. Some of our books are in boxes in the loft. What good is that!? The reason I haven't joined the e-book revolution is that a friend passed on a number of paperbacks either written by or about Joyce Grenfell and it's taken an enjoyable few weeks to read the lot. I've loved them, every chapter. Born into the Langhorne family; (Joyce's aunt was socialite Nancy Astor who lived at Cliveden - now both a private hotel and a National Trust property) Joyce met royalty, politicians and other noteworthy folk, and appears to have lived a very full life whilst keeping her feet firmly on the ground. I was sad to discover she would have received the honour of Dame Commander of the British Empire (DBE) had she lived another few months. She was not quite 70 years old when she died. I thoroughly recommend her autobiography, "Joyce Grenfell Requests the Pleasure" and "In Pleasant Places". She paints very evocative images of life in the first half of the 20th Century, particularly: a privileged woman's contribution to war torn Britain and the bygone era of the theatre, when revue was a popular genre.

Since exhausting my Joyce Grenfell collection, I've read Secret Life of Bees and am now half way through Nevada Barr's, Bittersweet which seems very familiar. I'm not sure whether I've read it before or I'm experiencing déjà vu? Several years ago when I was visiting Hinds College, Raymond, Mississipi, I had the pleasure of meeting Nevada Barr who was presenting a guest lecture. The book I read, and enjoyed, in preparation was Deep South. It featured a death on the Natchez Trace Parkway, an atmospheric road I knew from previous visits. The link between these two books other than their setting, is simply the charity shop from whence they came.

And, what on television is worthy of note? Without a doubt, the Danish political drama Borgen, created by the same production company as the Killing, (which I didn't watch). It makes a Saturday night in front of the TV entirely tolerable. Not that we relied on TV entertainment yesterday evening...

a, b, c

2012-01-22T17:05:00.000Z

At the risk of repeating myself, did I tell you the weekend begins on Friday. I'm in the office on Friday, just as any other day, but the feeling of anticipation heralding the eagerly awaited 48 hours of rest and relaxation is there from the minute I get into work, turn on my computer and walk down the corridor to place my lunch in the fridge. There's a different atmosphere - Ian is just one of a number who work from home on Fridays; the car park and the meeting rooms remain largely empty and there are fewer phone calls. This Friday just after midday a very excited Kate and Hannah, fresh from their 20 (21) week scan, called from their car to say that baby F-L, who is developing as expected, is almost certainly a GIRL! How exciting and what a surprise; a granddaughter.

That wasn't the only exciting news. At bedtime, as I was snug in my bed with my Joomla text book (I admit, not everyone's cup of tea), Kate called with confirmation of my milestone birthday weekend booking. She's discovered a small manor house rental with room for all the family, a swimming pool and a full size pool table. In recent months, suggestions for gifts to mark the occasion have ranged from an ipad to an expensive piece of jewellery but this is far nicer and something to look forward to.

So that was Friday...

Yesterday we popped over to Becky and Paul's with their calendar. It's been the custom over the last few years for Eric to create a family photo calendar and there was much dissent in the ranks when we decided to make a saving and there were no calendars under the Christmas tree. Not wishing to prolong family disharmony and receiving an email alert, from the photo website, to a substantial discount, Eric quickly designed a late calendar and the rest, you know...

Savings and budgets are in the forefront of our minds as retirement approaches and we spent this morning sieving through our regular and anticipated expenditure. For some reason I woke up this morning with money on my mind but with the job done I'm enjoying that feeling I get when I know exactly what's financially what. It's much like the sense of satisfaction you get when you 'spring clean' cupboards, file paperwork or put CDs and books into alphabetical order. And, that wasn't all; I was culinarily industrious this morning - I find that comforting too. I made a number of shepherds pies for the freezer and another for lunch. It's surprising how far you can stretch minced lamb with the addition of some vegetables and lentils. Despite being out of season, I also bought plums at the supermarket. They were on offer and tempted me to make a crumble - Nigel Slater's plum (greengage) and almond crumble (Kitchen Diaries) to be precise. A double dose of comfort food - tasty!

wassail weekend

2012-01-15T21:07:00.000Z

I love Friday evenings; the promise of the weekend and two mornings without an alarm call. It won't be long before this becomes the norm which is a very pleasing thought. So how did we pass the weekend? I made pastry: a Yotam Ottolenghi quiche recipe which used up 200g of the leftover Christmas Stilton and the 'perfect' apple pie - according to Si and Dave, the Hairy Bikers. The pastry for the pie had added grated lemon zest; a delicious twist.

We walked around Cothelstone Hill on Saturday afternoon, observing some wonderful skies, then in the evening caught up with the first two episodes of Borgen. As West Wing devotees, who've watched all seven series no less than three times, and are eager for a good political drama fix, we are happy to declare it, promising.

Today Vicki, Paul and the boys came over to lunch (roast pork and apple pie) and afterwards as the daylight began to fade, we made our way to the local Community Orchard for the Wassail - the annual ceremony to ensure a fruitful crop of apples. Armed with whistles and bells and muffled against the cold we followed a line of folk along a trail of lanterns into the orchard and towards the spectacular bonfire, mulled cider and apple cake. More images here.

Old apple tree, We wassail thee
And hoping thou will bear
For the Lord doth know where we shall be and apples another year.
For to bear well and to bloom well so merry let us be,
Let every man take off his hat and shout to the old apple tree.
Old Apple Tree we wassail thee and hoping thou will bear
Hats full, caps full, three bushel bags full
And a little heap under the stairs.

PS. As I prepared Sunday lunch I listened to Paul Johnson, the guest on Desert Island Discs. What an interesting chap (over 80 years old and still writing five hours a day on a regular basis - oh, and painting a watercolour each morning!); a great playlist too. I particularly liked 'Look for the Silver Lining' by Margaret Whiting.

dabchicks on the river otter

2012-01-08T14:59:00.000Z

Dabchicks or little grebes, as their nickname suggests, dive (or dab) under the water in a frenzy of activity and for that reason we didn't manage to get a decent photo of any of the four pairs we were reliably told are present on the River Otter, between Otterton and Budleigh Salterton, at the moment. We watched fascinated, trying to predict where the little duckling-like bird would emerge from its underwater foray.

With Sheila and Mike we started our six mile walk with a light lunch at Otterton Mill, popped into Budleigh Salterton for an ice-cream (sadly the creamery was closed) and consequently made do with a cup of tea from Tea and Tittle Tattle (our usual destination The Cosy Teapot was also closed), then made our way back from whence we came as the winter light faded. More photos here.

That was yesterday...

I don't feel I've achieved much today. I made a fruit cake that we we enjoyed with some traditional Double Gloucester this evening, and prepared a post-festive-style lunch, consisting of stuffed turkey legs which Eric removed from our Christmas bird previously and deboned. The stuffing consisting of pork sausage meat, sautéed onion. vacuumed pack chestnuts, chopped soft dried prunes, chopped apple, oats, parsley, nutmeg and beaten egg was a variation of the one we had on Christmas Day which, in that instance, included apricots and lemon zest.

The main reason for my lack of focus is that we still are no further forward with our house sale/relocation and until we have a decision from the interested party we're unable to plan. The one certainty I can plan for is life after full-time employment, which will begin twelve working weeks from now.

big year ahead

2012-01-01T20:41:00.000Z

We waved goodbye to the family after lunch today. The festive season has passed in a flash and as I catch up with this week's Archers Omnibus I'm reflecting on the two family gatherings. On the whole and considering the number of people in a confined space, it all went swimmingly. It's a shame James was poorly today and I hope he recovers speedily as children usually do.

We just about stayed awake to see the arrival of 2012 and turned on the television to see Boris Johnson's firework display - eleven minutes of pyrotechnic fantasy. Observing from afar on a 32 inch screen with a family who were looking forward to their bed, I'm afraid I found 11 minutes over-long but I understand London's mayor regarded it as a herald to a special year. In addition to the London Olympics and the Queen's Jubilee, we're looking forward to celebrating a birth and two milestone birthdays not to mention my early retirement (redundancy). If I know anything about the passage of time, the months will fly by.

We dedicated New Year's Eve to our belated Christmas family celebration, Secret Santa and all. I decided to cook the main meal at lunch time for three reasons - it suits the children, it suits my temperamental digestion and most of all I suspected I wouldn't have the stamina to cater in the evening for such numbers. After lunch we retired to the living room to receive our Secret Santa presents; I may have mentioned previously that each adult in the immediate family buys for just one other adult (drawn secretly) although we still buy for all the children. There were a couple of surprise presents this year - have I ever mentioned that a couple of years ago, in an attempt to clear some space I sold Kate's prized Sylvanian Family toys to a work colleague. She's never forgiven me so in an attempt to appease her and spotting a special Sylvanian Family John Lewis store on the JLP website, we ordered it, let all the family into the secret and presented it to the unsuspecting recipient. Suffice it to say it went down well and caused much laughter. The other surprise gift was one from Mum to both Kate and Hannah - a dear little cream knitted jacket for Baby F-L's layette.

Food always features prominently in our family gatherings and you may be interested in a few new and successful recipes we tried. One was an Ottolenghi red cabbage and beetroot slaw (I'm intending to use a lot of his fresh ideas for vegetables this year), another Nigella's Key Lime Pie from her book Kitchen and finally Rose Prince's delicious alternative leek dish which we served as an accompaniment to yesterday's roast beef.

For a photographic record of our festive activities click on this link to flickr.

yuletide greetings

2011-12-26T18:29:00.000Z

Festive greetings to all our dear friends and absent family. Picture it if you will... we're sitting here like Darby and Joan, on the one hand luxuriating in the peace of our own company (after yesterday's boisterous family gathering) and on the other, looking forward to the New Year gathering of the clan when Kate and Hannah will join us and Becky and Paul will return with Aaron.

The boys had a great Christmas day. By tea time, William caused some amusement by writing an advertisement for his Christmas present pogo stick. He put on it a price of £15.99 - a fair deal, he reasoned, for something you can only use in good weather! James however was overjoyed and repeatedly (without prompting) thanked his other grandparents for their gift - a hexbug track. Undoubtedly his favourite gift.

Vicki and I organised the food between us. Eric butchered the turkey, removing the legs and thighs and de-boning them for the freezer. On another occasion they'll make a good meal, stuffed with sausage meat, rolled and roasted, although Becky a lover of the brown meat was disappointed to be robbed of this more flavourful aspect of our bronze bird. For future reference we roasted the resulting crown to a temperature of 70°C, not the 85°C stated. It rested for nearly 90mins and was perfectly cooked through and moist to the knife on carving. Nigel Slater's chocolate brownie and Christmas Pudding rounded off the meal and left us feeling full to the brim, as usual.

move over kirstie allsop

2011-12-18T19:52:00.000Z

I would have completed the Christmas decorating (or trimming) if not for a back spasm which has rendered me helpless. I can't believe it. I'd spent the morning in the kitchen and after a late lunch took gifts upstairs for wrapping. On hands and knees with sticking tape, scissors and gift wrap, I'd just completed my second parcel when aaah!

I'm waiting for the painkillers to work...

Returning to this morning - it struck me as I watched my 83 year old Mum, on the kitchen step ladder bedecking the stair spindles that she's quite something. Not only is she still able to climb a ladder to put up her own festive decorations, she continues to makes them for herself and for the family. This year, inspired by the Merry Christmas bunting I bought from John Lewis in 2010, she set up a production line, crafting far better products than my JLP version. Kate and Hannah who returned from their holiday yesterday sent a photo of their living room with their bunting festooning the fire place. It's not terribly clear but when my back is behaving normally, I'll take a photo of the one Mum made for herself and add to my flickr Christmas set.

While all this was going on, I was slow roasting a shoulder of lamb, which our butcher at Rumwell Farm shop apologetically priced at three times the cost of a free range chicken. (Come March when I'm retired it's unlikely we'll be eating lamb very often, if the price remains so high.) Being a woman and able to multi task I was also compiling my Christmas food shopping list, baking bread and a dessert and a constructing a festive refrigerator cake. This last was a take on Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's crammed with chestnuts, dried fruit soaked in brandy and crushed ginger biscuits - a nice alternative to our favourite Rocky Road but unfortunately it didn't curry favour with the grandchildren.

that time of year again

2011-12-11T20:21:00.000Z

Every year at about now my darling husband says, as I embark on the Christmas card marathon, we (read you) should get it done earlier. And, every year I reply, "if you would like to take it on...". I should say that I never miss the 2nd class post deadline, although I invariably miss the international deadlines. Next year will be the test as unless my semi-retirement plans go awry, I will have the luxury of time. But, do I really want my cards to be the first on the door mat?

This year I haven't even made the Christmas puds. It's a job for this weekend, after Saturday morning's charity collection and the supermarket shop and the remainder of the present shopping and the wrapping and the...

Last weekend when perhaps I should have started my Christmas preparations, I spent Saturday morning with the boys visiting Santa on the Bridgwater & Taunton Canal and a very pleasurable Sunday with Ferndale friends at a pre-Christmas get together. We lunched at the Elizabethan Inn in Luton, highly recommended for its fantastic service, lively atmosphere and good Devon food.

herman the friendly cake

2011-12-05T20:52:00.000Z

Herman is cooling on a wire tray in the kitchen. He's stuffed full of grated carrot, coconut and walnuts and when his temperature is normal I'll smoother him with a st. clement cream cheese topping which awaits in the fridge. (I wish I'd read Dan Lepard's cream cheese topping tips before I made it. It didn't emulsify quite as it should have.)

Ten days ago I was surprised to receive, from Vicki, a pot of live cake starter reminding me of the 1970s when the children were small and a friend tempted me with a similar gift. I remember making numerous cakes of the same recipe i.e. apples, dried fruit and cinnamon. The first few were delicious but then we began tiring of the same old thing week in, week out and I'm afraid to say I deposited the remaining starter in the kitchen sink. I'm not one to feel intimidated by chain emails and the like.

However, I do have an appreciation of how bakers love and nurture their sourdough starters (often generations of years old) as if they were children. They carefully tend to their needs and if they are going to be away for any length of time they entrust it to a kindred spirit or as a last resort, pop it in the freezer until their return when they will bring it round from suspended animation and shower it with their love and attention until it's brimming over with yeasty happiness once again.

I'm not making any promises. The starter may not outlive 2011 but I'm looking forward to trying the carrot cake version and I'll search for other variations. For anyone interested here's the recipe including a starter for those without friends (my little joke!).