28/07/2008 by Brigid.

Preparation for the first of what we hope will be many summer holidays ‘ en famille’, i.e. with the cats, is becoming a bit like going back to boarding school. In fact, for retired folk like ourselves, I am beginning to wonder how much of a ‘holiday’ this trip will be.

The problem is ‘lists’.

John is currently sorting through a list of music on his MP3 player, in order to share some of our tracks with his daughter, who has just bought one of her own. Said daughter, meanwhile, has generated a, not insubstantial, list of DIY tasks for Dad and me. Though, bearing in mind Ree and her family have just moved back into her late mother’s home, and we will be spending the majority of our holiday there, it is reasonable to expect to earn our keep in some way. If the truth be known, as Ree’s new home is also the house John shared with his ex, we will be only too glad to help her put her mark on the place. Ooh err …

Thus, knowing what we were in for, John put together a list of tools to take back to the UK.

Speaking of staying in other people’s houses, the cats’ travel checklist currently comprises 26 essential bits and pieces to help them feel at home and, more importantly, to spare our hosts’ furniture and our nerves. Amongst the less obvious items we have included are Bach’s Rescue Remedy, Feliway diffusers, Soft Claws® claw covers, our own biological washing liquid (so at least our clothes smell the same), a bathroom bin and scented liners, and a dustpan and brush. At least Tiggy and The Fog seem to have taken to their Sturdishelter®.

Then there are shopping lists: one for things we want to take back to the UK and one for things we can’t buy in France. Due, mainly, to the large amount of luggage space we now have to allocate to our two furry princes and their trousseaux, we have cut back somewhat on the quantity of alcohol that we normally import for personal consumption. Conversely, the list of UK shopping has grown as we have gradually discovered things we miss or things we just can’t seem to find in France: digestive biscuits and Colman’s mustard spring to mind, along with the makings of traditional Christmas pudding and fruit cake.

We must not forget Ree’s shopping: Ikea storage jars, a wall clock and pretty lined linen basket, left behind when she flew back to the UK, as well as several items of Alex’s clothing and a red and pink spotted hippopotamus – also left behind.

With limited space remaining in the car for our own clothes, we made up another list. We will need decorating clothes, evening clothes for Cowes Week, clothes for sunny barbeques, and clothes for rainy days in Ireland.

There are also things that, individually, do not warrant a list of their own, but that don’t fit comfortably on any of the other lists: passports, mobile phones, travel cards, cameras, rechargable batteries, etc. So we created a list of those too – and cross-referenced it to the others, just to be on the safe side …

And then, of course, there is a final list of things not to forget to do before we leave: put the recylcing out, bring the bikes in, give our keys to the neighbours, and take the cats to the vet for their tapeworm and tick treatment. I’m already exhausted …

Posted in Uncategorised | Print | 1 Comment »

12/07/2008 by Brigid.

My young cousin, Catriona, has been here for a few days this week. She has been working in Paris and has been, so far as we can ascertain, mostly hungry and broke (as Parisians neither eat nor pay very often). We therefore considered it a particular honour that Catriona used her hard-earned dosh for a return ticket on the sleeper train to visit us. So we have had three (hopefully) fun-filled days of ice-cream and sight-seeing.

We arrived back from Carcassonne on Tuesday to be surprised by Flick, bearing a large carrier bag full of yellow plums from her garden. A very large carrier bag. Over 2 Kg. With the best will in the world, rather a lot for John and me. We did eat a few on our picnic on Wednesday, but today there were still nearly 4lbs left in the carrier bag – taking up a whole shelf in our fridge. They were beautifully sweet. To waste them would have been a crime. So I made jam.

I haven’t made jam before, so I found myself dusting off an old Constance Spry cookery book that dates back to my time at Winkfield Place, the Cordon-Bleu school she founded with Rosemary Hume. What can you say about a book that states “it would seem to be the simple duty of any woman with a home to run, of those with any sort of civic conscience, to understand about food and cooking … but there is still a tendency to consider the subject suitable primarily either for girls who cannot make the grade for a university or for those who intend to become teachers …”

“I aspire to perfection”, was the school moto. Though, in my case, nothing could have been further from the truth.  “I aspire to produce anything that remotely resembles the photo in the book”, could have been mine, or “I aspire to adhere to the Time Plan”, as time and time again, the teachers lamented my “too big” profiteroles, my “too yellow” custards, my “too sweet” salad dressings, or my liberal interpretation of practically any recipe you care to name. I passed the course anyway, and still use this splendidly sexist and imperial cookbook whenever I need a traditional turkey stuffing, liver pâté, jam … or just a good laugh.

The first line of the recipe reads, “Stone plums. Break about half the stones, extract the kernels, and blanch.” Constance Spry, unlike Delia Smith, credits her reader with a little too much common-sense. I am sure Delia’s recipe would have included some idiot-proof method of breaking plum stones, but Constance Spry’s didn’t. I discovered quickly that a mis-hit with a rolling pin turned them into sticky little missiles, while a well-aimed smack reduced the whole to a mass of pulp and nut shards. I really, truly, hope they add some flavour to the finished jam.

When finished, I had filled eight little jars with a pleasantly amber-coloured concoction. As I came to label them, I was reminded of a story about an old family friend, jazz singer and art critic, George Melly. As a small boy he had been taken to tea with an elderly (and rather prim) aunt. As his mother and aunt exchanged polite conversation, George suddenly piped up, “Mummy, why do you always say that Auntie looks like a monkey?!” The aunt glowered, while George’s embarrassed mother searched for words to change the subject. “Lovely plums …”, she said, looking into the aunt’s fruit bowl.

Milk and then just as it comes dear,
I’m afraid the preserve’s full of stones,
Beg pardon, I’m soiling the doileys
With afternoon teacakes and scones
from “How to get on in Society”, by John Betjeman

Posted in Uncategorised | Print | No Comments »

04/07/2008 by Brigid.

It is the usual expectation that, by the very nature of the role, grandparents have successfully raised at least one child to adulthood. Though baby equipment and advice might have changed since they had to do it, the fundamentals have not. So, while the average first-time grandparent might gaze in baffled wonderment at the latest in buggies, car seats, and dietary no-nos, the actual nurturing of the new infant is familiar territory. Thus, grandparents can generally be relied upon as a sort of afterhours helpline: a source of advice and reassurance, long after the local midwife has gone home and switched on the answer-machine.

Not so for me. Where babies are concerned, I am a complete novice. The last ten days have, therefore, been something of an education.

• Bottle feeding: A good ‘seal’ is required between mouth and teet to avoid spillage. If more milk appears to be arriving on bib than in stomach, suspect a leak and adjust positioning of baby: head at the top, feet at the bottom.

• Feeding solids: Let’s face it, before baby’s first teeth arrive, the very word “solid”, when applied to food, is an exaggeration. Unfortunately, since feeding with a spoon requires aim and coordination, as well as the cooperation of baby to open its mouth, a certain amount of spillage is inevitable. The exact level is partly dependent on the skill of the feeder and can range from a minor seepage to a full “blow back” event (see below).

• Burping: If baby appears to be suffering from wind, cease feeding immediately and burp. Failure to do so can produce colourful results, especially on pale clothing. When burping baby, it is preferable to shield your clothing with a muslin or other washable material before rubbing or patting its back. If no suitable cloth available, don’t worry, you don’t have eyes in the back of your head and what the eye doesn’t see the heart doesn’t grieve over.

• Entertainment: baby is easy to entertain and wont mind in the least if you have forgotten all but the first verse of ‘Horsey, horsey’. Distracting him while feeding can be messy, but then a scrunched up piece of kitchen paper makes a great toy.

• Nappies: A healthy baby’s nappy holds no mysteries. The colour of the contents usually more or less reflects the colour of whatever baby was eating a couple of hours ago, though with a slightly more solid consistency. The smell is added simply as a warning of a potential overflow situation.

• Sleeping: most babies easily become desensitised to normal household noises, whether it be the Hoover, washing machine, hairdryer, or Led Zepplin being played at full volume. Tip-toe across a creeky wooden floorboard in your socks, however, and you can expect baby to immediately wake from the deepest sleep.

• Dinnerware: Tempting though it may be to buy that charming Peter Rabbit place setting in preparation for baby’s visit, remember that a single baby will quickly create a dishwasher load of sticky bottles, plastic bowls and spoons, not to mention anything else within range of the highchair. Unless you want to spend all day at the kitchen sink, buy at least six of everything.

• Baby buggies: If you labour under the illusion that modern buggies don’t take up too much space when folded, don’t risk filling your car with flat-pack furniture from Ikea on the way to the airport to collect baby – unless you have a roof rack.

Congratulations to Mike and Dee, John’s brother and sister-in-law, on the birth of their first grandchild yesterday, and best wishes to proud parents, Paula and Chris.

Posted in Uncategorised | Print | No Comments »