It occurs to me that anyone has been reading my blogs for a while might have concluded that my life is a trifle dull, the daily and weekly round of tasks, family business, small joys and woes of every day life. I might even have thought so myself thirty years ago, perhaps even more recently than that. It was not until I became, for a time unable to do these things that I realised how important they were, how necessary to my well being and happiness. I spent most of my youth living from one adrenalin rush to the next. I suppose you could say that I had quite an exiting time of it. At the age of seven I wanted to be David Attenborough and at fifteen landed a job on a nature reserve in Norfolk.
Unfortunately my mother felt that it would not be safe to have a young girl wandering round the fens ringing birds so she scouted my plans and instead I was packed off to Art school, it was 1968 and I was fifteen years old, I would have been safer in a tank of sharks! After that came drama school and for a time the theatre was my life. Everything, and I mean everything I learned at art school came in handy there. Life was hectic but oh so stressful even when I was having fun. I came to understand that all that really matters are the small dear homely pleasures, the comfort of the every day ordinary things that wrap us in a sense of safety and belonging. I find great joy in pleasing my family with home made treats and caring for them in any way I can. I am aware that this may seem shocking to my feminist sisters, but for me it seems no disgrace to be a mother, house wife and carer. I am so very glad I found this out, the life I have suits me, I wish I had been wise enough to have discovered it sooner.
That is quite enough philosophy for now. Back to today, my son arrived home in a cheerful mood and we chatted for ages before he went off to bed. Pa and I made do with toast and marmalade for breakfast as he had to go out and I needed the kitchen for some serious cooking. The marigold buns made yesterday did not last the evening, we polished off the lot with some assistance from the boys next door, so I made a fresh batch, they smell wonderful when they come out of the oven. Next I baked a large batch of chocolate biscuits as the tin was almost empty, then out into the garden to pick tarragon, dig up some fennel roots, and gather the windfall apples before the slugs took liberties.
Then there were courgettes to pick and the shallots to turn. They are not drying well because of the damp weather. Lastly I picked another bowl of wine berries, I note with satisfaction that there are a few young plants going nicely. Once you get them started they grow quickly. Back in the kitchen I jointed a chicken and put it in a spiced marinade, prepared the fennel and some shallots for roasting and also made lots of jacket wedges flavoured with garlic and thyme. Fennel and tarragon dip completed the preparations and as I finished Pa arrived home. We had coffee and biscuits then he went off to feed the birds and I headed out to buy some gift wrap, it has proved difficult to find any close to home so I went to the nearest Tesco and at last found some paper suitable to wrap a gift for a baby.
In spite of all I said at the beginning of this epistle I still cursed the pile of ironing that awaited my return and got it over with as fast as possible. Dinner was lovely and we finished off with the lime jelly I made yesterday. It has been a peaceful, lovely, ordinary day.
Yesterday evening however we had an intruder in the orchard, a man had climbed over the wall, I think he was lost, and the cat Tiggy ran terrified into the house so I went out to see what was occurring. I was surprised to see the strange man and asked him to leave which he seemed disinclined to do so I was obliged to see him off the property at the end of a very sharp muck fork, I always keep one handy as we have had this trouble before, thankfully he left without any trouble, I suspect he thought I was crazy, an opinion with which I am inclined to agree!
As a caveat I should add that in spite of popular legend the sketch at the top of this blog is not a self portrait!
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