Thursday, 25 April 2013
Friday, 19 April 2013
Goddess of domesticity
Something most remarkable has happened in our neck of the woods - the domesticity goddess came to visit a couple of weeks ago and is still here. It started off with a need to either throw out all my good hair bands (for clients) because the velcro had worn out or else to pick the velcro off and sew on new extra long patches. Amazingly, I fetched the sewing machine from my sister and took the latter option. Having completed a job (double yay that I completed something) I then looked around at what else I could sew and took a couple of sizes off my favourite summer shift dress. It is a simple blue gingham Marks & Spencer number that I bought from a charity shop over six years ago and I still wear even though it was getting baggier with my shrinking weight. Now it fits me fabulously, all slim and curvy. All enthused I then hemmed some gorgeous sarong fabric I have and used exciting stitches as it is a computer sewing machine. It took some work getting the tension right and there are still issues which I will work out in due course.
A couple of days later, somewhere out of the blue, I decided to make my first loaf of bread. It was an incredible success. Delicious, risen and not the slightest whiff or taste of yeast. A delight. That weekend followed with waking up unnecessarily at 6am and wandering into the kitchen. By the end of Saturday I had made at least three different types of bread, including wholemeal, a tin loaf, Paul Hollywood's eight plait loaf, and Chelsea Buns. I had always thought Chelsea Buns were too difficult but not in the least. At the end of the day I took my basket of baked goods and walked over to my sis and family to share my wares with suitably impressed responses.
Sunday was a similar story and by the end I had made whole grain malt bread (aka Granary but apparently Granary is a trademarked name!) which I consider to be one of my best breads so far, burger buns (just four so that my son could make us burgers for dinner), bagels, and started a sourdough starter. The bagels were mixed by hand as I do not have one of those fancy kitchen mixers and my goodness the workout I received. They were actually good and tasted like bagels - maybe not the best bagels but not too bready. When making them and with all the workout I thought I'm never doing this again. It was like having a baby, once the finished article was there I am full of excitement to do them again and how to improve (that last bit is definitely not like having a baby because they all come out looking perfect no matter what!). Talking of which, my son actually took a picture of my bagels to show his friend and even wanted to to take some in to work to give to his baking friends! I declined as they are just my first batch and will hopefully be better other times.
Since then I have had a full work schedule though somehow have managed to experiment with making crumpets and yesterday I made French baguettes. Oh my goodness. The baguettes looked like something out of a proper bakery and tasted pretty good. I don't have any fancy equipment and used a floured tea towel to help shape them and put them onto a regular baking tray to cook - I don't have a baking stone. The French sticks can still be better and so I am looking forward to making those again. From 500 gm of bread flour plus a little yeast, salt and water yielded 4 medium sticks. A bag of bread flour costs 80 pence and contains three times that amount of flour. I reckon the cost of running the oven for twenty minutes plus heating time cost as much as the flour.
The sourdough starter is being nursed. I am just using the flour and water variety and currently it is at the stinky stage. By early next week it should transform into something supposedly lovely and can be used as a yeast substitute. I am gobsmacked that at last in my life I can eat homemade bread and think "wow" this tastes amazing and not taste the yeast.
One wonders how long this curiosity and enjoyment will last so I am just enjoying it for now. Part of me wants to retire and just bake bread and sew! I have lots of photos of course - just like a new parent. However, as I am off to work shortly it was either a case of what baked goods could I make before going or write a blog post. Photos will have to be added another time.
Busy day and weekend ahead. Have to be somewhere at 6am on Saturday and Sunday as I am volunteering at a community event. Oh joy, when I said I would help I had no idea it would mean 6am starts. And bread making will have to take a back seat. At least I can tend to my sourdough starter.
A couple of days later, somewhere out of the blue, I decided to make my first loaf of bread. It was an incredible success. Delicious, risen and not the slightest whiff or taste of yeast. A delight. That weekend followed with waking up unnecessarily at 6am and wandering into the kitchen. By the end of Saturday I had made at least three different types of bread, including wholemeal, a tin loaf, Paul Hollywood's eight plait loaf, and Chelsea Buns. I had always thought Chelsea Buns were too difficult but not in the least. At the end of the day I took my basket of baked goods and walked over to my sis and family to share my wares with suitably impressed responses.
Sunday was a similar story and by the end I had made whole grain malt bread (aka Granary but apparently Granary is a trademarked name!) which I consider to be one of my best breads so far, burger buns (just four so that my son could make us burgers for dinner), bagels, and started a sourdough starter. The bagels were mixed by hand as I do not have one of those fancy kitchen mixers and my goodness the workout I received. They were actually good and tasted like bagels - maybe not the best bagels but not too bready. When making them and with all the workout I thought I'm never doing this again. It was like having a baby, once the finished article was there I am full of excitement to do them again and how to improve (that last bit is definitely not like having a baby because they all come out looking perfect no matter what!). Talking of which, my son actually took a picture of my bagels to show his friend and even wanted to to take some in to work to give to his baking friends! I declined as they are just my first batch and will hopefully be better other times.
Since then I have had a full work schedule though somehow have managed to experiment with making crumpets and yesterday I made French baguettes. Oh my goodness. The baguettes looked like something out of a proper bakery and tasted pretty good. I don't have any fancy equipment and used a floured tea towel to help shape them and put them onto a regular baking tray to cook - I don't have a baking stone. The French sticks can still be better and so I am looking forward to making those again. From 500 gm of bread flour plus a little yeast, salt and water yielded 4 medium sticks. A bag of bread flour costs 80 pence and contains three times that amount of flour. I reckon the cost of running the oven for twenty minutes plus heating time cost as much as the flour.
The sourdough starter is being nursed. I am just using the flour and water variety and currently it is at the stinky stage. By early next week it should transform into something supposedly lovely and can be used as a yeast substitute. I am gobsmacked that at last in my life I can eat homemade bread and think "wow" this tastes amazing and not taste the yeast.
One wonders how long this curiosity and enjoyment will last so I am just enjoying it for now. Part of me wants to retire and just bake bread and sew! I have lots of photos of course - just like a new parent. However, as I am off to work shortly it was either a case of what baked goods could I make before going or write a blog post. Photos will have to be added another time.
Busy day and weekend ahead. Have to be somewhere at 6am on Saturday and Sunday as I am volunteering at a community event. Oh joy, when I said I would help I had no idea it would mean 6am starts. And bread making will have to take a back seat. At least I can tend to my sourdough starter.
Tuesday, 9 April 2013
Croak and splutter
Here I am, once again, weeks later and still with an impressive cough. My voice croaks but at good times sounds impressively gravelly and sexy. I am taking really good supplements and my diet is not too bad. I drink plenty of fluids. I have dabbled again in hydrogen peroxide therapy but can not seem to get past about five or six drops of the stuff at any one time. Dairy is eliminated from my diet apart from one or two isolated incidents which I will endeavour to also desist from. And I have been back on my warrior diet for over a month now, which is about the body healing itself rather than being just in growth mode. I am writing this down here as an aide memoir.
It seems to me that possibly I seem to have a weakness in my coughing faculties. Or perhaps, it is not a weakness and is a strength? How is that for a positive spin ..... after all, my body is trying to expel whatever it is .... so what am I trying to hold on to? Maybe that is at the heart of it all.
Or maybe instead of having my lifelong monthly migraine blowouts, which I no longer have except on a rare occasion these days, my body has transferred to the cough/cold as its illness of choice? It would be true to recognise that I have had an emotionally battered time during the first months of this year. Coping with a dying friend and even though it is not I that is ill, there is something about life and death which keeps punching you in the gut. Something about the mysteries of life as well as actually seeing someone in difficulty and discomfort.
Sometimes I feel like my shoulders are too tiny to cope with the things I do. Or is that just the little child in me wanting to run away or to have an all powerful parent to come and protect.
At this moment, the sun is shining through the windows straight into my eyes. The windows are already open with the cool fresh air of the morning sweeping through. The house is quiet and son will soon be up to get dressed smartly for work: luckily his journey is only a few minutes and he is on flexi time so he will not be late. I might still go give him a call. Mr Doris goes to bed late so he earns the right to get up late... so it is just me here right now with the lovely breeze, and my cough.
It seems to me that possibly I seem to have a weakness in my coughing faculties. Or perhaps, it is not a weakness and is a strength? How is that for a positive spin ..... after all, my body is trying to expel whatever it is .... so what am I trying to hold on to? Maybe that is at the heart of it all.
Or maybe instead of having my lifelong monthly migraine blowouts, which I no longer have except on a rare occasion these days, my body has transferred to the cough/cold as its illness of choice? It would be true to recognise that I have had an emotionally battered time during the first months of this year. Coping with a dying friend and even though it is not I that is ill, there is something about life and death which keeps punching you in the gut. Something about the mysteries of life as well as actually seeing someone in difficulty and discomfort.
Sometimes I feel like my shoulders are too tiny to cope with the things I do. Or is that just the little child in me wanting to run away or to have an all powerful parent to come and protect.
At this moment, the sun is shining through the windows straight into my eyes. The windows are already open with the cool fresh air of the morning sweeping through. The house is quiet and son will soon be up to get dressed smartly for work: luckily his journey is only a few minutes and he is on flexi time so he will not be late. I might still go give him a call. Mr Doris goes to bed late so he earns the right to get up late... so it is just me here right now with the lovely breeze, and my cough.
Sunday, 7 April 2013
Tumbled
Yesterday morning I could feel it coming on. Persistently like a dark cloud rolling quietly in rather sneakily and not in any dramatic way. Everything I did seem to add to its weight until the point I arrived at work and proceeded to burst into tears. Tears and work just do not mix. Not professionally and not practically. The tears help I suppose by letting the pressure off a little and then I manage to pull myself together because I have to pull myself together for others. My first client soon arrived and that was it, get on with it and do a good job. Which I did and is what I do. Put on a happy face. They do not know and have no idea.
Saturday, 6 April 2013
Precariat
According to a BBC article that is being read like the gospel, the UK now has seven classes. As in "Class". So of course one takes the handy online calculator because we all like a good online quiz. The end results are baffling on two fronts. One is that my husband and I are both scored as "Precariats" which is defined as: "This is the most deprived class of all with low levels of economic,
cultural and social capital. The everyday lives of members of this class
are precarious." And the other is, according to this "quiz", where is the financial depression swamping this country? Either there is wealth involved (income and savings) or people are taking part in activities that require money. Playing computer games apparently scores you more points - so who owns the computer or pays for the electricity supply to enable that? Going to the gym scores you more points - who pays for the gym membership?
What sort of quiz can give one the label of "Elite: This is the most privileged class in Great Britain who have high levels of all three capitals. Their high amount of economic capital sets them apart from everyone else." when you put in the highest income, house value and savings and yet score nothing for social and cultural capital.
The old class system is antiquated and wrong and I reckon any new classification system is inherently wrong too. Leave me out of it.
What sort of quiz can give one the label of "Elite: This is the most privileged class in Great Britain who have high levels of all three capitals. Their high amount of economic capital sets them apart from everyone else." when you put in the highest income, house value and savings and yet score nothing for social and cultural capital.
The old class system is antiquated and wrong and I reckon any new classification system is inherently wrong too. Leave me out of it.
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