"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.

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...

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.