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!