Wombling along

What else is there to do when it’s misty on the moors but womble about inside turning the cosy up to 11?

When all there is to do is hula for hours in your pyjamas?

And you care about freshly-made beds, and there’s not a kid in the land who gives a shit?

Again it’s been a week of disrupted routines and me sewing the edges together as best I can. Of robbing Peter to pay Paul when it comes to time, and maybe a little too much screen time for one young lass as I fit all the puzzle pieces together in my days to see how I can do it tomorrow easier and faster.

They say how you spend your days is how you spend your life and tbh that’s wigging me out a bit. Next year the little one goes to school and this year is half over and I can’t say I like how I’ve spent it, despite making great changes so I could hang out more at home. I keep thinking it will calm down soon but soon doesn’t ever seem to arrive.

Mother’s Day did arrive, and in a flurry of flowers and French food on Sunday drives, and was a fabulous day all round. I didn’t lift a finger for meals all day, and got to cosy up with books and tea while the bath and bed combo was wrought.

It gets me thinking a great deal about my experience of motherhood, and how very much I enjoy it. Daydreaming about adding to the bunch but knowing that realistically that’s not financially possible. I don’t suppose that’s something that will ever go away, I suppose I will always have the thought in the back of my mind, evolution creating us to breed, and all. Biologically that’s what’s supposed to happen, and I’m sure it’s thanks to that I’ll never feel “done”. Let’s check back in when I hit menopause!

I am sure I can turn my mind to other things, however. I have thought about writing a book for the last few years and it probably wasn’t until the Mother’s Day weekend that I finally figured out what it would consist of. I mean, I’ve had plenty of ideas but there was always one that felt elusive – like a recipe book but also with stories – that I couldn’t quite articulate. I’m no expert in anything except eating, and I like writing blog-style most of all, rather than technical. So how would they come together, and more importantly – would anyone even read it or find it useful?

So I was sat reading Annie’s Farmhouse Kitchen by Annie Smithers, which is a beautiful, watercolour-illustrated set of seasonal menus of traditional French recipes, and after that I was reading Stephanie’s Journal, the diary Stephanie Alexander kept in 1997 chronicling her year of closing Stephanie’s the restaurant, and opening of Richmond Hill Cafe and Larder, and all the foodie/gardening tidbits of her life in between. Annie used to work for Stephanie and I didn’t know that until I randomly picked up these two books to read on the same day, one after the other.

And then I thought why not a combination of the two? a little journal of domesticity, separated into seasons with recipes I make throughout the year, with sweet, homely watercolour illustrations and beautiful photographs and bits of kitchen gardens and the native environment that I love. THAT’S the book I’d like to write, because that’s the book I’d like to read. A real person’s meander through the year, simple and comforting, with real, easy, non-fancy everyday recipes and maybe a knitting or crochet pattern thrown in for good measure.

Funnily, a few days after that revelation, I dreamed I was on holiday with Annie Smithers, whom I’ve never met, and had never heard of until last weekend. Think of the thousands of cookbooks I’ve ever read, and I’ve literally never dreamed of the author, ever. Come to think of it, I’ve only ever dreamed of one author, and it was that one time I dreamed about John Safran and me going on a date (to the State Library of all places, I’m a nerd even in my dreams) and I had to show my ID to Jacquie Lambie. Maybe in my next dream Annie will present me with four loaves of Turkish bread, just like Dream John did.

Anyway, that’s enough dream for now, I’m about to make the magical veggie sausage rolls and probably finally scrub the bathroom that I’ve been putting off all week. I’ve got THE most gorgeous eucalyptus-scented Koala Eco spray as an incentive, so that helps.

Until next time, womblers x