Saturday 31 December 2016

Hibernation - the new Hygge?

Who knew that brushed cotton bed linen and comfy pyjamas could be so dangerous? They have turned me from someone who got up with the lark into a slug-a-bed who would happily stay here all day. In fact I actually am writing this in bed. 

What an indulgence!
My lovely husband brought me my breakfast, the cat is snuggled up at my feet, and I can honestly see no reason to move! I feel totally shameless in embracing hibernation as my lifestyle of choice.
Now, I realise that this choice is afforded to me by
  1. the fact that I have retired
  2. the fact that I have a husband lovely / daft enough to bring me breakfast in bed and
  3. the fact that he knows, as well as I do, that this will quickly pass and the need for fresh air and activity will motivate me to power through this post Christmas malaise
I have no need to move...

I’ve written before about ‘hygge’, the Danish way of life that is all about comfort and kindness and such a part of their culture that they also describe things as being ‘unhyggelic’ when they are unpleasant. As I write this, it is New Year’s Eve and I have to say that in many ways, 2016 has been ‘unhyggelic’. 
When I was younger, my parents always called 31st December ‘Old Year’s Night’ and would feel nostalgia for the year’s passing, not the excitement of new beginnings and resolutions. This notion has remained with me, and I have always felt wistful as Big Ben chimed in a new year. This year, however, I feel differently. On a personal level, 2016 has been better than fine - all my family are in reasonable health, as am I, I find myself with more time to do things that I really want to, and I have discovered that I can make new friends and be connected to people in ways other than as a colleague or teacher. 
But in terms of the wider world, oh my! This time last year, when I wished my friends and family a happy and prosperous 2016 I had no idea how much political turmoil it would bring and, in turn, how much it would affect me. Brexit, for me, was a huge shock and I am still desperately upset at the impact it is likely to have, not only on me and my family but also on where my country sits in the World. And as if that wasn't enough, the USA joined in where the UK had left off and elected Donald Trump - the figure that had been mocked, vilified and lambasted by anyone with half a brain - as their next President! If it was a screenplay, it would have been rejected as too far-fetched - there is no way that Trump and Farage would ever share a stage to thunderous applause…oh wait. And then there is Syria, the immigrant crisis, the increase in terrorist attacks in cities that are extremely close to home, problems with funding public services… Unhyggelic indeed.
So, I am unsure what 2017 will bring. The political landscape is very different now, and there will undoubtedly be a period of coming to terms with what has happened, alongside much to frustrate and anger many of us but, on a personal level I wish everybody well. 

Bigger than your average bottle...
Don't feel the need to make loads of resolutions - as a dear friend put it, doing the best you can do is undoubtedly good enough!

Now, if Im going to do justice to that prosecco, I suppose I should get up! 

Tuesday 20 December 2016

My Big Christmas Giveaway…

Have you ever googled yourself? It’s amazing what you find. Fortunately I didn't find out that I was wanted in France for toll avoidance, or by the fashion police for crimes against style, but I did find out that I am available on Amazon, iTunes, eBay and youtube!

So in honour of the season, my giveaway to you is a secret from my dim and distant past. (Sorry - no freebies here!) 

Back in 1972, in the days of cheesecloth shirts, batak print skirts and afghan coats that smelt so bad they would walk home on their own if you let them, a friend of mine asked me to sing in his take on the nativity at the local methodist church. I loved singing, was okay at it and was cast as Mary for the night. The following January, the same friend asked if I wanted to join his folk band. He was a keen song writer, drawing his inspiration largely from local legends and myths and wanted to move away from purely solo work at local folk clubs. The proposed band would be a trio - me singing, with Ken and another musician, Paul. Now Paul just happened to be drop dead gorgeous, so it would have been positively rude of me not to join!

Ah, the seventies!
As an almost seventeen year old, studying for A levels, this was the perfect escape. We would practise at Paul’s house (!) once a week, and perform at our local folk club each Friday. Although I loved working on new songs (not just because it was at Paul’s house) and developing our ‘sound’, I never really felt comfortable in the spotlight of performing. I couldn't quite bring myself to look the audience in the eye, and seemed to spend all my time looking at my knees, with my long hair curtaining me from view. Nevertheless, I had a great time, making good friends in the process.

Our band, Midwinter, became quite well known locally, and, thinking back, I’m not sure how I got my school work done - we seemed to be always off gigging somewhere, and would also travel around in Ken’s old Humber car, seeking out old instruments to use on new tracks. We even made a demo tape at a local studio. Ken funded this himself (he was the only one of us in gainful employment)and we spent several hours recording our favourite songs, drafting in friends as erstwhile session musicians. 

As with all good things, my time in Midwinter had to come to an end when, in 1974, I went off to study in Liverpool. I took part in an emotional farewell gig, and that, as they say, was that.

Or so I thought. I’d kept in touch with Ken over the years, largely through Christmas cards, but in 1993 he rang me out of the blue. By this time I’d almost forgotten I’d ever been in a band. It was consigned to the past with all the other daft things I’d got up to (I’m not going to list them - you’re only getting one secret!) Ken told me that he had sold our tape to some nerdy folk buff who had digitally remastered it (I never felt a thing) and released it on CD. It had had some minor success, and we were ‘big in Japan’ and Norway! 

 

Unfortunately, there was no money coming my way, but I did get several copies with that year’s Christmas card to give to my family! I was sort of proud, but also vaguely embarrassed. Just as I had been uncomfortable performing, I was equally uncomfortable hearing myself sing, so the CD was consigned to the shelf and, again, I pushed it out of my mind.

Christmasses came and went, and each year Ken would send me a clipping from a random folk magazine, giving reviews of our recording - all of them shockingly complimentary. I also had the extraordinary experience of having to visit Ken so that I could sign old posters of the band to send to our German fan club! 

Last year, I received a new vinyl pressing of our album with my Christmas card, and it was around this time that my daughter discovered that she could stream Midwinter on iTunes. She then took great delight in doing so at every available opportunity, playing our ancient music to her friends and family - we even provided the sound track for her New Year’s Party last year! 



That was when I googled myself. People actually made nice comments about my voice and our music, bemoaning the fact that we only made one album! Although I continue to cringe when I think about it, if I can steal myself to listen to a little bit, I suppose it isn’t too bad - in an ‘acid folk’ seventies kind of way. For years I have avoided telling friends and colleagues that I was in a band called Midwinter, but I suppose I am sharing my secret now because, underneath it all, I’m quite chuffed that Amazon actually sells an album of me singing, and that people seem to be willing to pay good money for it! Have a listen, see what you think - it’s my gift to you this Christmas! I hope it doesn’t make your ears bleed!!!


Tuesday 6 December 2016

Enjoy being a stirrer! Cheap Thrill: #12

Life, as Christmas draws nearer, gets more and more frenetic, even if you haven't got to plan the Christmas play and manage children who struggle to cope with the necessary changes to routine that go hand in hand with the festivities - why would they want to go to school in a Christmas jumper when everyone knows that you go to school in your uniform? 
Despite being retired, I still find myself writing this in the middle of the night:
  1. because I can't sleep
  2. because my husband is snoring and
  3. because in the morning I have to bake sausage rolls and banana muffins for a girly gathering tomorrow evening!
So, my latest cheap thrill involves taking time to relish and enjoy nourishing my family, whilst sneaking a few cheeky minutes to myself. Yes, I give you…risotto! 

Roast squash, sage, chestnut and pancetta risotto (thank you Jamie Oliver!)

I love risotto. It is so comforting to eat and can be made from the simplest of ingredients, which I usually have in my store cupboard. Now I have to admit to oven baking risottos on occasion, but for maximum creaminess, nothing beats the traditional method of slowly adding hot stock to rice and stirring gently until it is absorbed.

Watching the magic happen
For me it is a labour of love which cannot be rushed and is truly mesmerising and cathartic. I turn on the radio, stand at the stove and stir. My mind wanders as the rice releases its starch and I unpick my troubles or worries and they seem to evaporate with the steam. (A glass of wine to hand is also mesmerising and cathartic, but maybe thats another cheap thrill!) 
I am fascinated by the way the texture of the rice changes as the starch seeps from it, and it is up there with bread making in ticking my ‘earth mother’ boxes. All in all, it takes about twenty minutes to make, but in those twenty minutes I have to stay by the stove and pay it close and loving attention - no multi-tasking, no trying to fit in checking my bank balance or ordering another Christmas present - just carefully stirring the pan, waiting for the magic to happen. Bliss. And I am not alone - we visited my daughter last week who made us a delicious meal. ‘I love making risotto, Mum, it’s so therapeutic.’ Great minds!

Lovely lemon and prawn risotto
So next time you’re stressed and wonder where you're going to find a minute to yourself, try making a risotto. Not only do you sneak some time, you also get to provide a delicious meal for your family or friends! Joy, pure joy!

Tuesday 22 November 2016

I did something spontaneous...and didn't combust!

It’s been a while since my last post - who knew retirement could be so relentlessly busy! The main reason is because I lost my blogging space while we redecorated the kitchen. Anyhow…

I'm a worry gut...
Anyone who knows me appreciates that I am probably the world's least spontaneous person. The closest I come is an impulse purchase of a cuddly jumper if I am out in cold weather. That said, I usually get home and decide to return it because I'm not cold any more!

I have a need to plan, making sure I have dotted ‘i’s and crossed 't’s.  This affords me many opportunities to worry, stress and wish I wasn't doing the thing that I planned in the first place. This mindset applies equally to holidays, big purchases or, in that former life of mine, lesson ideas.

Last Monday evening I had a message from a friend asking if I wanted her two spare tickets for the ATP Tennis Finals the following Wednesday. Now during the summer I had fleetingly thought that I would love to go to the ATP Finals, but didn't do anything about it. Now, faced with this unexpected opportunity, I immediately replied... ‘Sorry, a bit too short notice for me.’ What my friend said next kept me awake half that night.

Food for thought!

I tossed and turned worrying that I would be missing out, and okay, I could go next year, but what if I died in the mean time (I know…that’s how I roll!) I was still awake at 4am, stressing about the fact that my need to plan ahead was preventing me from doing something that I would undoubtedly love - what planning did it need? Go, enjoy, return! 

Having given myself a severe talking to, when I woke up, I immediately messaged my friend asking if she still had the tickets. One brief encounter at Asda later, I had the tickets in my hot little hand, and the strangest thing happened. I wasn't stressed or worried, I was actually excited and looking forward to seeing a professional tennis match for the first time in my life.

Apparently so spontaneous, no time to shave!
So we went off on our great adventure, and had a brilliant day - first tennis match and it was Andy Murray no less. 

Let's go Andy, let's go!

The atmosphere was fab and I was so excited I spent an inordinate amount of money on a T shirt - just to prove I was there! 

Bragging rights t-shirt!

But the best thing was that feeling of disbelief that we were in the O2, watching something amazing when, two days earlier, we had no idea we would be there. And I proved to myself that I can be spontaneous and that, if you’re going to worry, you may as well worry about doing something rather than worry about not doing something and missing out. 


For most people, this wouldn't have been a big thing, but for me it has been huge. Watch out world - I might be coming for you!! 

Sunday 6 November 2016

Wishing I was Danish!

Time for candles and relaxation!
I underestimated November. It has been so ridiculously mild and sunny that I quite forgot that it can be cold. I went to the football yesterday totally underprepared - no hat, gloves, thermal socks or warm coat - and it was freeeeezing. And wet. And miserable. This, combined with my team’s unfailing ability to clutch defeat from the jaws of victory, meant that I spent the majority of the second half feeling thoroughly peed off and wishing I was Danish!

Last autumn I shared an article on facebook, saying that I at last knew what I would be doing in my retirement. You can read that  article here: How to banish the winter blues – Danish style 
Since then hygge has become very trendy - lots of shops are embracing all that is hygge, and selling the accoutrements required for a hygge lifestyle. 

Blogging, hygge style!
For those of you that don’t know, ‘hygge’ (pronounced ‘hyoogah’ apparently) is a Danish concept and way of life that embraces all that is cosy, comforting and relaxed. Rumour has it that this has helped the Danes become one of the happiest nations on the planet, although their vast consumption of anti-depressants may also be a factor!
Whatever the rationale, the idea of hygge really appeals to me. It is about appreciating the small things - comfy blankets, daft films, hot chocolate and good company - but more importantly about valuing these things as something worth doing, not an indulgence when you really should be doing something perceived as more ‘useful’. My friend over at The Salted Tail recently wrote about making time to be kind to herself, and this is at the heart of hygge. It’s about snuggling up and reading a book, or enjoying a coffee with a friend, but more importantly about seeing that as the activity in itself - not about thinking, ‘This is nice, but I really should be getting on’, and feeling lazy or non-productive.

The Salted Tail: being kind to herself...
This has been an unsettling year, for me, personally, but also for lots of others - Brexit, whatever your feelings about it, has certainly made us all wonder about what is coming next, and the upcoming US election could yet add another scary layer to that uncertainty. 

Comfort food for changing times
So maybe its time to take a leaf out of the Danes book. Develop an appreciation of all that is cosy. Spend time with our friends and families and value every second. Slow down and make tea in a teapot, or cook comfort food to relish and enjoy. Then do what I intend to do this afternoon - snuggle under a blanket and watch some ludicrous film that will do nothing but entertain. 

Hygge (which will be forever ‘higgle’ thanks to Apple’s ridiculous self correcting software) - embrace and enjoy!

Friday 28 October 2016

Making a Connection - Cheap Thrill: #11

Making a connection!
Since my retirement, my hubby and I have been at odds, at various times, over the most ridiculous things. I have to admit that these times have been largely of my making, as I continue to come to terms with this massive change in my life.
However, regardless of how cross or agitated I feel, it all goes away the second he takes my hand in his. This simple gesture makes me feel loved, protected and cared for - not emotions that I have always experienced as an adult. If for any reason we can’t hold hands, there is a kind of ‘disconnect’ that troubles us both, and just feels weird. Equally, if I pull away from the gesture, he knows he is in big trouble!!
Holding hands is a basic human instinct - we are thrilled when our babies first clutch at our fingers, and whenever there is a perceived danger, you hear parents saying, ‘Hold my hand!’, implying that it will keep them safe. 
When I was at work, we spent considerable time and effort as the students got older, teaching them to link arms instead of holding hands. It is such an intimate gesture that, while we clearly needed to keep them safe, holding hands with a student in their teens just seems inappropriate and somehow wrong.

Such good friends!
This week we took my grand-daughter and my great niece out for the day. Although there is almost a three year age difference, they get on really well, and ran off together, holding hands. They didn't need to, but they just wanted to make that connection. And when they want to connect with me - they reach for my hand and it is the most wonderful feeling, when you take the time to appreciate it.

The best feeling...

So, this week’s Cheap Thrill is hand holding. We all do it, whether it's with one of our children or grandchildren, with our partners and loved ones, but take a moment to appreciate how it makes you feel - safe, loved, protected: joy, pure joy!

Sunday 23 October 2016

Adventures in Dough!

I love bread. Whenever I have been trying to lose weight, it has always grieved me that the first thing to go is bread, although to be honest, its not the bread, its the butter and cheese that I have with it that challenges my many and various bids for a sylphlike figure! 
Anyway, bread. I have always enjoyed baking with yeast, but this has usually been limited to making my own hot cross buns at Easter. During my career break, when the children were small, I did bake most of my own bread, but I always remember it being worthy, wholemeal loaves that didn’t always rise, but that we ate anyway!

New book!
As part of my retirement basket of goodies, my daughter gave me Brilliant Bread by James Morton and it’s reignited my passion for baking my own loaves. I started at the beginning (a very good place to start) and made the first loaf in the book. It was a genius recipe that involved lots of time waiting for the dough to rise, but minimal kneading and faffing about. James Morton is not a lover of faff, and this makes his recipes relatively simple to follow.
My first baking success
My first loaf was amazing and I thought I had this bread business cracked…then I baked another loaf, following exactly the same recipe. Disaster! Not a taste disaster, but it stuck, wouldn't slice and, although we devoured it while it was still warm, would never have passed muster as a loaf of bread!

My second baking...

I was a little disheartened, but persevered, and when my daughter sent me photos of the bread she had made on a french bakery course, I determined to prove myself (little baking joke there!) and had a go at baguettes. Unfortunately I mis-read James Morton’s recipe and, having made his ‘poolish’ pre ferment, realised that it used a sourdough starter that I didn't have. If I’d only done as he suggested and worked through the book from the beginning instead of jumping ahead, I would have known what to do, but I hadn’t, so I didn’t. Suffice to say that following about three different recipes from the internet does not produce professional baguettes! Again, they were tasty and we very much enjoyed them dipped in home made soup, but no self respecting Frenchman would have carried one home under his arm!

Bamber - our faithful, frothy friend
Undeterred, I decided to try making a sourdough starter. Sourdough is, after all, the holy grail of breads, and how hard can it be?! I followed the instructions to the letter, even the bit that says to tip 75% of the mix away after two days, and now have a jar of bubbling, fermenting stuff. As it needs feeding and nurturing I felt it had to have a name - it’s like my surrogate child! After much deliberation, we decided on Bamber, as he’s our ‘starter for’, oh well, never mind! 
I then went out and bought rye flour, semolina, a proving basket and a lame, for cutting the top of the dough. Up until that point, I’d intended ‘baking bread’ to be a cheap thrill. £15 later, I thought maybe not!
Last night I used 100grams of Bamber in the dough for a Pain de Campagne. After kneading (in my Kitchenaid, I can not tell a lie, because I was trying to watch Strictly at the same time!)I did the windowpane test, just like on the Bake Off, and left the dough in the fridge overnight.

New proving basket
This morning, I shaped it, proved it again in my new basket, and baked it. I felt so proud when I got it out of the oven, smelling delicious, and so crusty! 
Crusty!
I suppose we should have eaten it with a baked Camembert for authenticity, but we had Stilton instead. Yummy.

Yummy!
I haven't progressed to a loaf that uses only the sourdough starter as a raising agent, but in time I’m sure I will. In the meantime, there’s an interesting Marmite Bread that I might try next…

So baking bread is a luxury that I can enjoy because I am retired - poor Bamber wouldn't have survived a nanosecond this time last year - and having the time to indulge myself, and my family is, I have to admit, ever so slightly wonderful!

Friday 14 October 2016

Gloop - Cheap Thrill: #10


On Monday I read an interview with Shirley, creator of Muse Retreats, in which she talks, amongst many things, about how adults lose the confidence to play and be creative that they once had as children (thank you The Salted Tail, for the post!)
This morning I had coffee with a friend, and we were discussing our various creative pursuits. She has recently started pottery classes and said something I found really interesting: ‘With sewing you start with fabric, with knitting you start with wool, but with pottery, you just start with, well, mud!’ And its true. The form your creation takes needn't follow rules or a set pattern, it can just grow from your imagination. And if you don't like it, you can scrunch it up and start again. How liberating!

The calm before...the five year olds!
It got me thinking about my grandchildren’s recent birthday party. It was in the village hall, and my daughter-in-law had hired in someone to set up a circuit of crafting and messy play activities. The children were completely absorbed and it was strangely calm for a 2 and 5 year olds birthday party! After a while, though, the children moved away to throw, kick and whop each other with balloons, but their parents…they continued to be completely absorbed. Squishing play dough, pouring water through funnels onto drowning dinosaurs, listening to beans and lentils tipping through plastic pipes into metal dishes and, best of all, exploring the strange and seemingly magical properties of ‘gloop’. If the adults there had thought about what they were doing - indulging in sensory, messy play - they probably would have quickly become self-conscious and embarrassed. But because they were ostensibly there with their children, it didn't matter, and they had a lovely, messy time.


Gloop!

So this week’s Cheap Thrill - mix 2 or 3 tablespoons of cornflour with about the same amount of water and play with it. It defies belief the way this mixture behaves.  

I know there is a rational scientific explanation (thixotropy, apparently) but ignore that - its magic! Gloop…joy, pure joy!

Tuesday 11 October 2016

Deleting a Piece of my Soul - Photomarathon Sheffield Adventures


Last weekend we went up to Sheffield to visit my daughter. We needed to take her birthday presents, but the reason for going this particular weekend was so we could take part in Photomarathon Sheffield
My daughter and I were so excited that we’d each got one of the 150 places available and, although we weren’t exactly sure of what it would involve, we were reasonably confident that running 26 miles wasn't going to be part of the requirements! Hubby was coming along for the ride (fortunately, as will be revealed later) and we headed to the city centre to register.

Love a badge!
We were given a badge - exciting - and a copy of the rules. Then, like the the keen photographers that we  are, we headed to the nearest coffee establishment for brunch…I mean, to plan our day! 
Incidentally, if you are ever in Sheffield, Tamper Coffee is THE coolest place you will ever find, and served probably the best coffee I have ever tasted. Food was delicious too. 

Them's the rules!
Anyway, we perused the rules over our coffee. We had to take pictures related to six topics - not a problem, so we thought - but when we had finished, the last six pictures on our memory card would be submitted. That meant that, realistically, we would have to shoot the topics in the order given, and then choose one for each category and delete the rest. We decided we would allow 40 minutes for each topic, and then have half an hour to decide which photos to keep. 

I think all that water is making a noise...

We set about topic 1: Making Shapes. Then my daughter’s borrowed camera went wrong…cue annoyance, stress, lots of ‘I’ll just try it again’, more annoyance, emergency phone calls and, eventually, the decision to use hubby’s camera (good job he came along!) Crisis averted, we continued to look for shapes in the environment, trying to be creative and not too literal.


Topic 1: Making Shapes

Suddenly, the 40 minutes was up - time for topic 2: Making a Noise. How do you photograph that? Somehow a photo of an intruder alarm didn't cut it! 

Topic 2: Making a Noise

We wandered around the city, clicking away, then - ‘Time’s up, topic 3: Making History’ - ‘Time’s up, topic 4: Making a Meal’


Topic 3: Making History

At this point we headed to an indoor market, where we got completely distracted by haberdasheries, sari stalls and miniature succulents! 


Topic 4: Making a Meal

Then the battery on the replacement camera ran out. Luckily my ‘be prepared’ although not an ex boy scout of a husband had his charger, so we stopped for coffee and used the opportunity to do some photo pruning. It was incredibly difficult, knowing that, to get to the final six pictures, I would have to delete, yes, delete photos that I quite liked but just didn’t fulfil the brief. The hardest ones were some of my daughter randomly playing the piano on Sheffield station. It felt like deleting a little bit of her. 
We managed to whittle the photos so far down to about three in each category and, battery charged, continued with topic 5: Making Connections. 

Topic 5: Making Connections

Both of us got our ‘money shot’ quite quickly and moved onto the final topic 6: Making Faces. Ugh - this was the hardest of all. How many times do you look at something and see a face in it - door knobs, drain covers. In fact my nephew has a whole instagram feed #Iseefaceseverywhere. Not in Sheffield he wouldn’t. Nothing, nada, zilch. We wandered around, aimlessly gazing at benches, road markings, reflections until, ‘Time’s up - time to choose your final six’ 

Topic 6: Making Faces - not sure it fits the brief, but my favourite of the six

We ignored my husband’s constant muttering about cake, and headed back to the Winter Gardens, where we sat on a bench and went through our photos. There was much ‘Which is best? This one or this one? I don’t like that one. Well I do, so I’m ignoring you’ and some seriously regretful deletions. We eventually succeeded in selecting the six photos to submit, and handed over our memory cards. Done. There is an exhibition of all of the photographs submitted at the Millennium Gallery in November. A good excuse, as if I needed one, to visit my girlie again. It will be intriguing to see how other people interpreted the topics, and see how our efforts compared. The photos included in this post are my final six. I'd be interested to know what you think!

Roll on next year!

Honestly, the most difficult part of this challenge, and it was a challenge, was not taking the photos, but choosing the favourite, and deleting the rest. In this age of digital photography, we are click happy, and rarely consider the merits of the images we accrue - they sit there up in the cloud, in their infinite naffness, taking up space but largely ignored. Only when we get an email warning us about our available capacity do we revisit and cull the accidental photos of our crotch or the selfie that, seriously, no one should ever view. It’s kind of ironic that, in this throw away and largely secular society we still secretly feel that throwing away a photo is like throwing away a little piece of someone’s soul.