All I want for Christmas is peas on Earth...
It`s a wonderful World we live in for us the lucky ones. Every night when the lights are low and my children are asleep I peak into their rooms , tuck them in, unplug earphones and chargers, kiss them unawares and go to bed knowing they are safe.
This freedom, this safety cannot be underestimated. Just lately the wars and bombs that are the stuff of gritty middle east news casts easily switched over, have exploded into all our backyards.
We cannot blithely continue living in La la land, but hitting people in their heartlands breaks my heart not just as a mother but as a human being.
25 years ago I was training to be a teacher in Leicester, beautiful children of many Faiths all got on in the playground. If ever anyone got smacked in the mouth with a football, or hit in the eye with a cricket ball a runner would be sent up to the staff room.
"Can I have the Hand of Peace please" a small boy called Jatinderpal asked me. Some genius old tartar had thought of that one, in those days before risk assessments and ice packs.
She went to the freezer and took out a rubber glove filled with frozen peas which when applied with TLC and her authoritative gentleness, could cure any ill and provide balm for hurt feelings. She never advised them to go back out and whack the perpetrator with a cricket bat, funny that.
Tonight we need to pray for Peace and balm for the hurt minds of those who wish to destroy it.
Pea guacamole
2 large avocados
juice of 1 lemon
1 clove garlic crushed
handful of peas fresh or frozen
chilli flakes
sea salt
olive oil
whizz all up in a blender, just divine!
Thursday, 26 November 2015
Wednesday, 11 November 2015
Grandad`s sprouts
On this Remembrance day, I went to church and saw my Jemima singing hymns and showing respect for the brave and fallen heroes of Wars or conflicts as they are now euphemistically called.
Proper hymns , no "cauliflowers fluffy" to be heard. To hear young voices singing and praying thanks for those who had made the ultimate sacrifice to preserve the liberty we enjoy today made me proud and made me cry. I also remember taking the twins to a similar church service when they were young and apple green!
After Church , Lily said defiantly "well I`m not going to church again!"
"Yes" James joined in "Me no like church!"
I was horrified "What do you mean, we have to say thank you for all the people in the services that died". I snapped.
(We used to go to 10 O`clock mass but we sometimes went on a Saturday at 6pm or Sunday night at 6pm so they were aware of different "services".)
" I don`t want to go and get killed in the services" Lily chimed. I explained that the armed services were a completely different matter and she wasn`t going to get shot at church!
We all owe our lives of freedom and plenty and peace to young men whose Mums never got to make them dinner again...
Tonight we had our first sprouts of the Season, despite protestations, they all had to eat a few. As a nation we eat a billion of the slippery suckers a year and 5000 years ago Chinese doctors prescribed them as medicine for you`ve guessed it bowel disorders. They are first thought to have come from Iran and Afghanistan and these green holy terrors are really good for us but that joke "What`s the difference between a brussel sprout and a bogey?" "Little boys won`t eat Brussel sprouts!!" is so true.
If you over cook them they get really nasty , no more than 4-6 mins or else the sulphorous odour and sludgy texture will offend everyone. I digress from War memories to sprout memories because whenever we have them Matty tells us about his Irish grandfather Bill, who survived the Blitz in Liverpool, bravely putting out fires allover Birkenhead, sometimes not coming home for days. He could forgive the Germans in later years for many things it seems but not for blowing up his sprouts on his allotment!
If ever a war movie came on he would look up from his Pipe and whiskey and tut "Bloody Germans , they blew up mi sprouts!!"
How to make sprouts edible
1 stem of sprouts (really fresh)
seasalt
1 pack of pancetta lardons
butter
Pepper
Boil the sprouts for 4 mins and slice roughly, fry the lardons in the butter til crispy and toss the sprouts in until golden brown on the edges, add salt and pepper and a pinch of nutmeg. Yummy not cremated like Grandad`s sprouts!
Sunday, 8 November 2015
What`s for dinner Clarey?: Comfort and Joy
What`s for dinner Clarey?: Comfort and Joy: We recently went to Cornwall. It was magical. No Wifi- so the teenagers were in revolt at first at finding themselves disconnected. Happily ...
Comfort and Joy
We recently went to Cornwall. It was magical. No Wifi- so the teenagers were in revolt at first at finding themselves disconnected. Happily they forgave us and we all reconnected after a few midnight paddles,Cornish pasties and family quiz nights.
I just LOVE my family.
We are by no means perfect , like every family we fall out, but we always fall in again like a pack of cards. Sitting on the beach watching my brothers playing cricket like we did 40 years ago was like being dealt a Royal flush. Swimming in the sea every morning bathed in late Autumn sunshine with Jemima was a pair of Aces. Turning up at the beach to find my Mum wearing the same dress as me was like getting a full house! Surfing in the velvety Cornish waves with my beautiful twins, who now don`t need their hands holding, made me deliriously happy, they are the Jokers in our pack.
One morning I swam alone and got caught in a rip tide, I barely had a moment to panic, I looked up and there was my big brother who had been watching me from his window, next my Matty whom I had left snoring like a walrus of love, appeared in his wetsuit and swam out to meet me. The very thought of those two coming to "rescue" me makes my heart glad,but as usual I had already got myself out of deep water.
Throughout the week I remembered all the many Summers we had spent on that very same beach,catching Mackerel with my Grandad who had been a sailor in the Royal Navy. Both my Grandfathers had loved this special place and so I`m sure they sent us the sunshine.My Poppa Roy had been a navigator in the RAF and he had brought my Dad there in the 50s after the War.So it is his map of Love that we followed to Gorran last week.
The last day we met up with friends and we chatted and laughed and somehow all managed to crash in the waves and even jumped off the Harbour wall, which looked like madness but felt like heaven.
On this Remembrance Sunday I give thanks for my Grandfathers and the legacies of Love they left me and the love and friendships of friends and family. We all have heartbreaks, worries, illnesses and sadness that can overshadow our sunny days. I was jumping off that harbour wall, holding hands with all my special loved ones who had gone before, because I could and they could not and I have never felt more alive. I believe in holidays they are essential to take stock of where we are in our lives, I believe in moonlit walks and curry on the beach and even though I`m ever so old , more than ever I still believe in love.
Lily`s Chilli
On holiday Lily made a most memorable meal , it took her three hours and she used every pan in sight but I knew the moment I tasted it, my girl has grown up.
500g minced steak
2 red onions
4 cloves of garlic
1 red chilli
1 green chilli
1 tube of tomato paste
butter
1 glass of red wine(in the chilli not the teenager)
1 tin of plum tomatoes
1tbs dark brown sugar
chilli powder
2 tins kidney beans
Fry the steak mince and onions in a little oil and butter until brown , add chillis and chilli powder and tomato puree. cook for a further 10 mins until the tomato puree has caramelised. Add the wine and tomatoes and sugar and the kidney beans. season well and serve with rice, Nachos and cheese.
Best rice ever
fry basmati rice and 2 sliced red onions in lots of butter until they go translucent. Add seasalt and boiling water and cook for 15 mins , so the rice is fluffy and the onions are sweet and tender just like Lily!
I just LOVE my family.
We are by no means perfect , like every family we fall out, but we always fall in again like a pack of cards. Sitting on the beach watching my brothers playing cricket like we did 40 years ago was like being dealt a Royal flush. Swimming in the sea every morning bathed in late Autumn sunshine with Jemima was a pair of Aces. Turning up at the beach to find my Mum wearing the same dress as me was like getting a full house! Surfing in the velvety Cornish waves with my beautiful twins, who now don`t need their hands holding, made me deliriously happy, they are the Jokers in our pack.
One morning I swam alone and got caught in a rip tide, I barely had a moment to panic, I looked up and there was my big brother who had been watching me from his window, next my Matty whom I had left snoring like a walrus of love, appeared in his wetsuit and swam out to meet me. The very thought of those two coming to "rescue" me makes my heart glad,but as usual I had already got myself out of deep water.
Throughout the week I remembered all the many Summers we had spent on that very same beach,catching Mackerel with my Grandad who had been a sailor in the Royal Navy. Both my Grandfathers had loved this special place and so I`m sure they sent us the sunshine.My Poppa Roy had been a navigator in the RAF and he had brought my Dad there in the 50s after the War.So it is his map of Love that we followed to Gorran last week.
The last day we met up with friends and we chatted and laughed and somehow all managed to crash in the waves and even jumped off the Harbour wall, which looked like madness but felt like heaven.
On this Remembrance Sunday I give thanks for my Grandfathers and the legacies of Love they left me and the love and friendships of friends and family. We all have heartbreaks, worries, illnesses and sadness that can overshadow our sunny days. I was jumping off that harbour wall, holding hands with all my special loved ones who had gone before, because I could and they could not and I have never felt more alive. I believe in holidays they are essential to take stock of where we are in our lives, I believe in moonlit walks and curry on the beach and even though I`m ever so old , more than ever I still believe in love.
Lily`s Chilli
On holiday Lily made a most memorable meal , it took her three hours and she used every pan in sight but I knew the moment I tasted it, my girl has grown up.
500g minced steak
2 red onions
4 cloves of garlic
1 red chilli
1 green chilli
1 tube of tomato paste
butter
1 glass of red wine(in the chilli not the teenager)
1 tin of plum tomatoes
1tbs dark brown sugar
chilli powder
2 tins kidney beans
Fry the steak mince and onions in a little oil and butter until brown , add chillis and chilli powder and tomato puree. cook for a further 10 mins until the tomato puree has caramelised. Add the wine and tomatoes and sugar and the kidney beans. season well and serve with rice, Nachos and cheese.
Best rice ever
fry basmati rice and 2 sliced red onions in lots of butter until they go translucent. Add seasalt and boiling water and cook for 15 mins , so the rice is fluffy and the onions are sweet and tender just like Lily!
Saturday, 19 September 2015
"Do we have any milk, where`s the butter?"
Saturday mornings are sacred in our house. No alarm clocks jangling, no teenage angst to contend with, no lost book bags, PE kits, or grumpy people. Sleepyheads rule.
It wasn`t always so peaceful...when we first had the twins it was like a tag team from the World wrestling association! Matty, all bleary eyed and beardy, wearing his half mast Star Trek pyjamas would do a comedy roll out of bed, changing nappies with one hand and warming milk in bottles with the other. If we were really lucky we might get a lie in till 7am before they had pole vaulted out of their cots and shimmied over the stair gate , one would give the other a leg up over the afore mentioned gate then would turn around and drag the other twin over. Then we would hear wicked little giggles as they crashed down the hall, burst through our door and made "Ta dah!" entrances before jumping under the duvet with us. They would never lie still or go back to sleep, twins definitely come without a snooze button.
We would spend the rest of the day trying to tire them out whilst keeping them safe! Bath time was a game where they would spookily jump up in unison and "peekaboo" in synchrony, we would play the nappy head game , where one would have a nappy strapped onto its head to distract them whilst we actually put one on the correct end of the other! Buying nappies for twins accounted for most of my salary in 2001, I had a Boots advantage gold card and could buy perfume with my points every month!!
We weren`t bank rich, but those days of sleep deprivation , Saturday morning cuddles and bath time unity were priceless. They were days of complete honesty, I once called out "Lily where are you?" to which she replied "I`m on the dining table eating butter!" and there she was gnawing on half a pound of Lurpak.
Bringing up twins has been a team sport and although my Matty is often AWOL up a mountain , he is the most doting Dad I have ever met and they are the greatest as a result.
He used to say that having twins was the best contraceptive ever, as they so often ended up like the Berlin wall draped between us in the early hours. But I must say that they are quite simply the best thing we`ve ever done. So when Jemima arrived and added another point to our star shaped family , I realised we have been blessed. Not with lots of money and all the nonsense that accompanies it but with the rarest of treasures that is Love...
Saturday mornings are a little quieter these days, but in essence they remain the same,coffee and the papers for me and Matty and the smell of bacon acts as the gentlest most effective wake up call for the children. They pad downstairs ,all sticky up blonde hair , nearly 6ft tall. Give me a hug and ask "Mum, do we have any milk, where`s the butter?"
When I die, all I need on my tombstone will be the word "Mother".
Saturday night kebabs
I should have named one of my children Donna , as in Doner Kebab! They love them , but I can`t watch them eat something that has been sawn off a greasy pole when I can make something better.
Chicken kebabs
chicken breast or thigh meat diced
lemon juice
tomato puree , half a tube,
salt
4 fat cloves of garlic (Lily doesn`t want a boyfriend yet anyhow!)
olive oil
green peppers, red peppers, red onions
wooden kebab sticks
Marinate the chicken for at least a couple of hours in the juice of a lemon, a good slug of oil, plenty of salt, tomato puree and garlic.
Thread onto skewers with peppers and onions in between, barbecue or grill.
Serve in toasted pittas with loads of sliced lettuce,onions, red cabbage and tomatoes.
Saturday mornings are sacred in our house. No alarm clocks jangling, no teenage angst to contend with, no lost book bags, PE kits, or grumpy people. Sleepyheads rule.
It wasn`t always so peaceful...when we first had the twins it was like a tag team from the World wrestling association! Matty, all bleary eyed and beardy, wearing his half mast Star Trek pyjamas would do a comedy roll out of bed, changing nappies with one hand and warming milk in bottles with the other. If we were really lucky we might get a lie in till 7am before they had pole vaulted out of their cots and shimmied over the stair gate , one would give the other a leg up over the afore mentioned gate then would turn around and drag the other twin over. Then we would hear wicked little giggles as they crashed down the hall, burst through our door and made "Ta dah!" entrances before jumping under the duvet with us. They would never lie still or go back to sleep, twins definitely come without a snooze button.
We would spend the rest of the day trying to tire them out whilst keeping them safe! Bath time was a game where they would spookily jump up in unison and "peekaboo" in synchrony, we would play the nappy head game , where one would have a nappy strapped onto its head to distract them whilst we actually put one on the correct end of the other! Buying nappies for twins accounted for most of my salary in 2001, I had a Boots advantage gold card and could buy perfume with my points every month!!
We weren`t bank rich, but those days of sleep deprivation , Saturday morning cuddles and bath time unity were priceless. They were days of complete honesty, I once called out "Lily where are you?" to which she replied "I`m on the dining table eating butter!" and there she was gnawing on half a pound of Lurpak.
Bringing up twins has been a team sport and although my Matty is often AWOL up a mountain , he is the most doting Dad I have ever met and they are the greatest as a result.
He used to say that having twins was the best contraceptive ever, as they so often ended up like the Berlin wall draped between us in the early hours. But I must say that they are quite simply the best thing we`ve ever done. So when Jemima arrived and added another point to our star shaped family , I realised we have been blessed. Not with lots of money and all the nonsense that accompanies it but with the rarest of treasures that is Love...
Saturday mornings are a little quieter these days, but in essence they remain the same,coffee and the papers for me and Matty and the smell of bacon acts as the gentlest most effective wake up call for the children. They pad downstairs ,all sticky up blonde hair , nearly 6ft tall. Give me a hug and ask "Mum, do we have any milk, where`s the butter?"
When I die, all I need on my tombstone will be the word "Mother".
Saturday night kebabs
I should have named one of my children Donna , as in Doner Kebab! They love them , but I can`t watch them eat something that has been sawn off a greasy pole when I can make something better.
Chicken kebabs
chicken breast or thigh meat diced
lemon juice
tomato puree , half a tube,
salt
4 fat cloves of garlic (Lily doesn`t want a boyfriend yet anyhow!)
olive oil
green peppers, red peppers, red onions
wooden kebab sticks
Marinate the chicken for at least a couple of hours in the juice of a lemon, a good slug of oil, plenty of salt, tomato puree and garlic.
Thread onto skewers with peppers and onions in between, barbecue or grill.
Serve in toasted pittas with loads of sliced lettuce,onions, red cabbage and tomatoes.
Wednesday, 16 September 2015
What`s for dinner Clarey?: Let`s get ready to crumble!When I was a little l...
What`s for dinner Clarey?: Let`s get ready to crumble!
When I was a little l...: Let`s get ready to crumble! When I was a little lass my best memories of childhood were set outside. We lived in a real world where blackb...
When I was a little l...: Let`s get ready to crumble! When I was a little lass my best memories of childhood were set outside. We lived in a real world where blackb...
Let`s get ready to crumble!
When I was a little lass my best memories of childhood were set outside. We lived in a real world where blackberries and apples grew on bushes and trees and were ripe for acquiring as Autumn treasures.
These days Apples and Blackberries are devices that us children of the 70s sadly now communicate on, in a virtual world where you seldom get a grass stain , rosy cheeks or anything for free.
This week I took my class of four and five year olds foraging in the local churchyard. These little farm children still have apples in their cheeks and blackberry bushes as a larder.
We plundered the blackberry Harvest, got prickled , enjoyed the last beams of late Summer and the "Oohs" and "Arrs" of this merry band as they came upon hidden whoppers was equally delicious for us to hear.
We went back to class with our gemlike booty, washed our hands, washed the fruit.We passed a bowl round and measured the flour out in handfuls, added a little butter and shared the rubbing in job and sprinkled a little sugar on for good measure. Then we went off to read and paint and model make for half an hour and then the crumble smell brought everyone to order.
We shared our lovely wild berry pudding and some even asked for seconds and thirds. We washed up and went home smiling.
Life that day really tasted as sweet as I remembered it when I was five, when apples and blackberries and the best things in life were still free.
Crumble
450g (or a big bag)hand picked blackberries
2tbs caster sugar
200g plain flour
25g oats(optional)
150g muscovado or soft brown sugar
100g butter
1tsp baking powder
Go blackberrying, get some sun on your face and a prickle up your bottom!
Wash the collected Autumn treasures and put in a shallow oven proof dish and sprinkle with caster sugar . If your children have eaten most of the berries already, add a couple of diced pears or apples as well.
Mix the flour and butter together by rubbing it in gently until it resembles breadcrumbs , stir in oats, brown sugar and baking powder.
Sprinkle on top of the fruit and bake at 180 /Gas 4 for half an hour.
Serve with ice cream, custard or cream and it tastes of Autumn days when your new school shoes rubbed and your Mum was waiting for you at home with a lovely tea.
When I was a little lass my best memories of childhood were set outside. We lived in a real world where blackberries and apples grew on bushes and trees and were ripe for acquiring as Autumn treasures.
These days Apples and Blackberries are devices that us children of the 70s sadly now communicate on, in a virtual world where you seldom get a grass stain , rosy cheeks or anything for free.
This week I took my class of four and five year olds foraging in the local churchyard. These little farm children still have apples in their cheeks and blackberry bushes as a larder.
We plundered the blackberry Harvest, got prickled , enjoyed the last beams of late Summer and the "Oohs" and "Arrs" of this merry band as they came upon hidden whoppers was equally delicious for us to hear.
We went back to class with our gemlike booty, washed our hands, washed the fruit.We passed a bowl round and measured the flour out in handfuls, added a little butter and shared the rubbing in job and sprinkled a little sugar on for good measure. Then we went off to read and paint and model make for half an hour and then the crumble smell brought everyone to order.
We shared our lovely wild berry pudding and some even asked for seconds and thirds. We washed up and went home smiling.
Life that day really tasted as sweet as I remembered it when I was five, when apples and blackberries and the best things in life were still free.
Crumble
450g (or a big bag)hand picked blackberries
2tbs caster sugar
200g plain flour
25g oats(optional)
150g muscovado or soft brown sugar
100g butter
1tsp baking powder
Go blackberrying, get some sun on your face and a prickle up your bottom!
Wash the collected Autumn treasures and put in a shallow oven proof dish and sprinkle with caster sugar . If your children have eaten most of the berries already, add a couple of diced pears or apples as well.
Mix the flour and butter together by rubbing it in gently until it resembles breadcrumbs , stir in oats, brown sugar and baking powder.
Sprinkle on top of the fruit and bake at 180 /Gas 4 for half an hour.
Serve with ice cream, custard or cream and it tastes of Autumn days when your new school shoes rubbed and your Mum was waiting for you at home with a lovely tea.
Wednesday, 29 July 2015
It`s not a beach day
It`s not a beach day
I live in one of the most amazing beautiful places on Earth, mountains, lakes and sheep set out before me like a farm set of the Gods. The only problem is I`m a beach girl!
My idea of Heaven is a Whitby crab and a dip in the ocean preferably off the East coast of Yorkshire or South West coast of Cornwall. When I am swimming I feel like a mermaid, sleek, strong and cool , when I am walking up a steep mountain grabbing onto Matty`s rucksack for dear life and a leg up I am Hagrid!! And a huffing and puffing hairy Clarey is not a wonderful sight to behold.
I am not obsessed with sun tanning , I don`t have the attention span or Nannies to watch my adorables to enable me to read books all holiday. I will not be an orange permatanned yummy Mummy after the hols raring to go to book club (where let`s face it , they just get sloshed and verbally assassinate their beloveds.)
I don`t need a holiday from my life. Because all your worries and fears don`t get stamped out at Passport control, they might miss the flight but when you get home they`re waiting for you like a bottle of sour milk in your refrigerator.
So applying the Mary Poppins "Everyday`s a holiday with Mary #Clarey" technique is my modus operandi for surviving the seven week "rest" with my delightful children!
1. Eat only pain au chocolat for breakfast, no washing up and no leftovers
2. Squirt your teenagers with dry shampoo, deodorant and perfume as they shuffle past you grunting
3. "Lose" your credit card on a regular basis so they cannot top up their phones
4. Take the fuse out of the PlayStation and say the repair man is coming tomorrow (always tomorrow)
5. Never say these words "It`s not a beach day" "It`s too wet for a barbecue"
6. Make them swim in sea, Lake,tarn, water, pool everyday(no need to badger them to bathe later!)
7. Switch off literally, all mobile devices rot the brain and destroy the art of real conversation
8. Eat, drink and be merry together but not in front of the telly (a sausage sarnie and a kitkat consumed outdoors looking at a sunset or lovely view is far better than a feast mindlessly chomped slumped infront of the Xbox!)
9. Breathe, sounds simple, but just take time to relax and listen to your breathing and be thankful for something or someone who made you smile today, or be that person
10. Do something kind for someone else, don`t forget to say please and thank you , happiness rests on little things like these words.
Now we are in holiday mode , disarm those poor people not as enlightened as you by being like this everyday . There are only two types of people Charming or tedious, its up to you which one you choose to be.
Now you have to have something lovely to eat or drink, this smoothie is divine and fat free
Life on Quark
2 pots of Yorkshire Quark (fat free cheese)
2 boxes of frozen fruits raspberries or strawberries
Vanilla extract
Artificial sweetener or maple syrup (a couple of spoonfulls)
Whizz it all up in a liquidiser and drink outside with someone you just LOVE! xx
Arrows darlings (What you say when you score highly at a game of Darts) That`s what Summer holidays are like aiming high and dodging any misery guts` arrows who dare tell me "It`s not a beach day!"
I live in one of the most amazing beautiful places on Earth, mountains, lakes and sheep set out before me like a farm set of the Gods. The only problem is I`m a beach girl!
My idea of Heaven is a Whitby crab and a dip in the ocean preferably off the East coast of Yorkshire or South West coast of Cornwall. When I am swimming I feel like a mermaid, sleek, strong and cool , when I am walking up a steep mountain grabbing onto Matty`s rucksack for dear life and a leg up I am Hagrid!! And a huffing and puffing hairy Clarey is not a wonderful sight to behold.
I am not obsessed with sun tanning , I don`t have the attention span or Nannies to watch my adorables to enable me to read books all holiday. I will not be an orange permatanned yummy Mummy after the hols raring to go to book club (where let`s face it , they just get sloshed and verbally assassinate their beloveds.)
I don`t need a holiday from my life. Because all your worries and fears don`t get stamped out at Passport control, they might miss the flight but when you get home they`re waiting for you like a bottle of sour milk in your refrigerator.
So applying the Mary Poppins "Everyday`s a holiday with Mary #Clarey" technique is my modus operandi for surviving the seven week "rest" with my delightful children!
1. Eat only pain au chocolat for breakfast, no washing up and no leftovers
2. Squirt your teenagers with dry shampoo, deodorant and perfume as they shuffle past you grunting
3. "Lose" your credit card on a regular basis so they cannot top up their phones
4. Take the fuse out of the PlayStation and say the repair man is coming tomorrow (always tomorrow)
5. Never say these words "It`s not a beach day" "It`s too wet for a barbecue"
6. Make them swim in sea, Lake,tarn, water, pool everyday(no need to badger them to bathe later!)
7. Switch off literally, all mobile devices rot the brain and destroy the art of real conversation
8. Eat, drink and be merry together but not in front of the telly (a sausage sarnie and a kitkat consumed outdoors looking at a sunset or lovely view is far better than a feast mindlessly chomped slumped infront of the Xbox!)
9. Breathe, sounds simple, but just take time to relax and listen to your breathing and be thankful for something or someone who made you smile today, or be that person
10. Do something kind for someone else, don`t forget to say please and thank you , happiness rests on little things like these words.
Now we are in holiday mode , disarm those poor people not as enlightened as you by being like this everyday . There are only two types of people Charming or tedious, its up to you which one you choose to be.
Now you have to have something lovely to eat or drink, this smoothie is divine and fat free
Life on Quark
2 pots of Yorkshire Quark (fat free cheese)
2 boxes of frozen fruits raspberries or strawberries
Vanilla extract
Artificial sweetener or maple syrup (a couple of spoonfulls)
Whizz it all up in a liquidiser and drink outside with someone you just LOVE! xx
Arrows darlings (What you say when you score highly at a game of Darts) That`s what Summer holidays are like aiming high and dodging any misery guts` arrows who dare tell me "It`s not a beach day!"
Tuesday, 10 February 2015
What`s for dinner Clarey?: Granny sittingI am writing from a single bed, al...
What`s for dinner Clarey?: Granny sitting
I am writing from a single bed, al...: Granny sitting I am writing from a single bed, all is quiet, no teenagers stomping about homework, no bedtime story for Jemima , no fallin...
I am writing from a single bed, al...: Granny sitting I am writing from a single bed, all is quiet, no teenagers stomping about homework, no bedtime story for Jemima , no fallin...
Granny sitting
I am writing from a single bed, all is quiet, no teenagers stomping about homework, no bedtime story for Jemima , no falling asleep on the sofa with Matty tonight, no I am Granny sitting! I feel deliciously tranquil , schoolwork and homework and housework have been shelved, let the spiders spin their webs, let's the Inspectors judge and condemn and rattle their clipboards, I am not home or responsible for anyone apart from Grandma. What a lovely occupation . Today we have looked through many photograph albums, I have seen her in her Rita Hayworth heyday, all 1950s teeny waisted, wrinkle free, girlish and with the sunshine on her face. The man at Ellesmere Port who asked her to stand on a spot to take the photo for her disabled badge didn't see the pin up I could see. The physio who came and talked very loudly and clearly as if she was talking to an alien didn't see the Jiving champion 1959 I could see. So I took her to see her sister who is nearly 90, whose memories were the same as Grandmas, she could instantly see the little sister skipping up the path, not the old lady tripping up the path now with a cronky old walking stick.
They chatted about pillow fights when their Auntie made them pick up all the feathers without the aid of a Hoover as the leccy was expensive. They talked about their babies , all grown up and grey ing now and about their fellas and what lovely lives they'd led and how St.Anthony helped them find anything that they'd lost like passports, keys, tickets even their memories. They kissed like two little girls, who shared an absolutely beautiful album only they could view.
We all of us must get old one day and our memories and marbles go and turn to forgetteries , we will find ourselves moaning as we bend down to do up our laces and groaning as we can't find our glasses. Time is our most precious commodity which we waste when we are young and busy and then want to go back to reclaim when we have the time and yet are too weary to enjoy.
I think I will try to slow down when I go home to my normal life, solve more crosswords and speak less cross words over cobwebs and washing up and messy bedrooms which are of no real importance. Perhaps these last few days, Granny has been infact looking after me.
Granny sitting steak with a sauce I can't remember...
My memory is like one of those silver things with holes in you find in the kitchen!
2fillet steaks seasoned with sea salt and black pepper
Butter
1red onion sliced
1tbs whole grain mustard
1pot double cream
1slug of pale cream sherry
1small beef stock pot
Chips
Salad
Fry the steaks in butter with the onions until golden add the sherry and cream, mustard and beef stock and reduce serve with chips and a green salad whilst doing your pelvic floor muscles without sliding off the leather reclining sofa. Ta dah!
I am writing from a single bed, all is quiet, no teenagers stomping about homework, no bedtime story for Jemima , no falling asleep on the sofa with Matty tonight, no I am Granny sitting! I feel deliciously tranquil , schoolwork and homework and housework have been shelved, let the spiders spin their webs, let's the Inspectors judge and condemn and rattle their clipboards, I am not home or responsible for anyone apart from Grandma. What a lovely occupation . Today we have looked through many photograph albums, I have seen her in her Rita Hayworth heyday, all 1950s teeny waisted, wrinkle free, girlish and with the sunshine on her face. The man at Ellesmere Port who asked her to stand on a spot to take the photo for her disabled badge didn't see the pin up I could see. The physio who came and talked very loudly and clearly as if she was talking to an alien didn't see the Jiving champion 1959 I could see. So I took her to see her sister who is nearly 90, whose memories were the same as Grandmas, she could instantly see the little sister skipping up the path, not the old lady tripping up the path now with a cronky old walking stick.
They chatted about pillow fights when their Auntie made them pick up all the feathers without the aid of a Hoover as the leccy was expensive. They talked about their babies , all grown up and grey ing now and about their fellas and what lovely lives they'd led and how St.Anthony helped them find anything that they'd lost like passports, keys, tickets even their memories. They kissed like two little girls, who shared an absolutely beautiful album only they could view.
We all of us must get old one day and our memories and marbles go and turn to forgetteries , we will find ourselves moaning as we bend down to do up our laces and groaning as we can't find our glasses. Time is our most precious commodity which we waste when we are young and busy and then want to go back to reclaim when we have the time and yet are too weary to enjoy.
I think I will try to slow down when I go home to my normal life, solve more crosswords and speak less cross words over cobwebs and washing up and messy bedrooms which are of no real importance. Perhaps these last few days, Granny has been infact looking after me.
Granny sitting steak with a sauce I can't remember...
My memory is like one of those silver things with holes in you find in the kitchen!
2fillet steaks seasoned with sea salt and black pepper
Butter
1red onion sliced
1tbs whole grain mustard
1pot double cream
1slug of pale cream sherry
1small beef stock pot
Chips
Salad
Fry the steaks in butter with the onions until golden add the sherry and cream, mustard and beef stock and reduce serve with chips and a green salad whilst doing your pelvic floor muscles without sliding off the leather reclining sofa. Ta dah!
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