A SAD BEGINNING

Here we are again, Monday, how quickly last week went by. I awoke this morning to the sound of the telephone ringing and I grabbed the receiver as fast as my sleep fogged brain would permit as I wanted my son to wake as late as possible, he returns to work tonight. I was sure that is was my mother and so it proved to be. Now I should tell you at once that although my lovely Mama is a dear soul she only ever calls me when something is wrong, badly wrong,I steeled myself for the worst as I glanced at the clock in disbelief, so early. The bad news was the death of one of my Aunts and of course my Mother was upset. My Father had five sisters and now only two remain. Of course I too was sad to hear the news, poor Aunt Dody has never recovered from the death of her daughter last year. It must be said that we have had more than our fair share of funerals in the past few months. Mother has a tendency towards the lugubrious and began to regale me with the details of the last hours. “It was awful.” She said and continued for some time recounting all she had heard from those who were there at the end. I have unfortunately been at a number of death beds myself and how the experience could be anything less than awful I fail to see. I fear that she has a way of dwelling on such things until she makes herself ill which does good to no one.
I always feel that my grief is my own and never feel the need to burden others with my sorrow. I have been overwhelmed by grief more than once in my life in circumstances such as this and have almost always gone away by myself to sob my heart out and then cry myself to sleep, I find an audience distracting and unnecessary. After all others have their own burden of grief to bear, why should I weigh them down with my own?

Others will be distressed enough without having to comfort me. Aunty Dody left two daughters and having lost my Father I know how they must feel today. Our concern must and should be for them, there loss is the greatest and it is for them that I grieve the most, the cousins I grew up with and played with as a child. My thoughts are with them tonight.

It is true to say that life goes on and thank the Gods for it. I went down stairs , made coffee for Pa and I the went on to bake five loaves, a split tin, a poppy seed twist, two cobs and a tomato loaf. This last was at the request of my son and here is the recipe.

1 Ib Granary flour
1Ib strong white flour
2 teaspoons on yeast
2 teaspoons of salt
2 teaspoons of sugar
2 oz melted butter
2 pints warm water
1 jar of sun dried tomatoes, do not use the dried ones,as the result will be disgusting.

Mix the flours,salt ,yeast,and sugar together. Melt the butter in a large saucepan then add the water,if at this point the water is not warm enough heat the pan for a few seconds.
Add the tomatoes and the water and mix until a dough forms then turnout on to a floured surface and knead for ten minutes. Divide in to two pieces the knead again. At this point you may put the dough in to two 2Ib loaf tins or if you prefer shape in to round loaves. Cover with greased cling film and leave until the dough has doubled in size the bake at 230c for fifteen minutes then reduce to 200c for a further fifteen minutes. Test the bread with a skewer, if the skewer comes our sticky give the loaves a further five minutes then remove from the oven cover with a clean dry tea towel and leave until cool..
This bread is very good for chicken sandwiches or with cheese and my favourite, bacon butties.
I treated the boys to fresh baked blueberry muffins this morning but I was a little distracted and was rather heavy handed with the blueberries. My son has asked if the next time I bake then we can have a little more muffin and a little less blueberry. I would have to agree.
The day has passed , we are all fed, my son will leave for work soon , I shall see Pa safely bathed and comfortably tucked up with hot chocolate and then I must write to my cousins, then there will be time enough for tears.