The Homemade Heart

Mum, listen to this

We are a music loving family. Derek and I both love music (our tastes differ in this, as in so many things, but it never seems to matter) and so do the boys. When they were babies, and toddlers, I had no idea of the particular joy I would experience when their adult personalities and tastes started to develop, and they would share their musical discoveries with me. Neither did I anticipate that peculiar sensation of nostalgia ( combined with a wry inward smile) when they 'discover' a song that instantly transports me back to my own youth.  One of my favourite phrases is 'Mum, listen to this'. So many of my own musical memories are now overlaid with the happiness of seeing my boys enjoy the same music.

Jacob's tastes range from Frank Sinatra, to Pink Floyd and Bruce Springsteen. One of his highlights of last year was seeing The Who live.  He even manages to study with earphones in, absorbing music along with his revision notes. One of his favourite bands is Walk Off The Earth. Significant for him as they were the first (and thus far the only) band he has seen with a friend, rather than a parent, when they played recently in Glasgow. (That was a long evening, even though we drove them there, and home). I have to agree with Jacob though, they are an amazing band; inventive, theatrical, musical.

Here they are singing their mesmerising version of Adele's 'Hello' (I always prefer Adele's songs performed by other people).

Isaac, who's guitar lesson a Saturday morning is the highlight of his week, sucks music up like a dry sponge, constantly finding new artists that he loves, and learning how to play their songs on the guitar. He favours singer songwriters; idolises Passenger (he looks daily for UK tour tickets), and loves Imagine Dragons, who he saw live last year in Newcastle. He's also partial to an '80's power ballad when the mood takes him. 

One of his recent discoveries is Jesse Daniel Smith Here is Jesse singing one of his own songs 'Simple Friday Night' It's beautiful.

deeply salty

When I wrote my first post for this blog in January 2014, I had no concept of the warm friendliness I would encounter from other bloggers, nor did I imagine the relationships I would form. I did not anticipate meeting other bloggers in 'real life' or making blog-friends with others whom I may never meet in the flesh, but whose words and thoughts I have the privilege of reading, whose photographs I have the pleasure of admiring, and whose lives - or those parts of it they choose to share- I have come to care warmly about.

One such blog-friend is Linda, whose blog, Linda's Life Journal, is a total delight. Linda writes straight from the heart about her day to day life in Texas with her family. She has immense energy, and such a zest for life her joie de vivre jumps straight off the page and smacks you (in the best possible way) right between the eyes.

Linda and I are occasional real life correspondents too; sending Christmas cards, and now and then chatting by email, so I recognised her handwriting on the surprise air mail package I received last week. When I opened it, I laughed aloud to see a substantial bag of the idiosyncratically named 'Texas Trash' that Linda makes for friends and family at holiday times. I had commented on her blog that it looked absolutely delicious when she blogged about it pre-Christmas, and Linda, with her characteristic kindness and sense of fun, decided to send me some.

The boys were back from school and clustered round, keen to taste. We all crunched our first mouthful curiously. It was crispy, deeply salty and savoury, and absolutely delicious. There were mini pretzel sticks, tiny crispy wafers, nuts (my favourite!) and tiny pieces of savoury biscuit, all of which were smothered in flavour. Linda makes up a mixture of secret ingredients and bakes the 'Trash' in the oven. We couldn't stop eating it! 

As you can see from the photograph above, taken hastily last night, before it all disappeared, there is now only a small bowlful left. What remains is earmarked for my exclusive enjoyment, on Friday evening,with a nice cold beer, which I will raise in a toast to Linda, and her kindness. 

 

The seasonal thermostat tipped

At last we are waking up in the mornings to frost, ice and snow. I feel that the universe (or at least the Scottish winter) has returned to its rightful pattern. The unnaturally mild, stormy weather of December has passed. I am reassured, actually relieved, to look outside and see snow falling, covering with silent efficiency the back garden; our newly planted patch of hedge, our fir trees, our garden bench, as well as forgotten footballs, the dustbins at the back door, and Meg's abandoned, sodden, squeaky toys. Snow is nothing if not egalitarian.

The road outside the house remains a dark grey ribbon, the temperatures not sufficiently low to turn it slippery white. The grass, trees, gravel path, last year's brown leaves and the fledgling daffodil spears in the front garden have all but disappeared, cleansed and glorified by Nature's bright white winter quilt.

We depend on the weather, and the corresponding behaviour of animals, birds, plants and flowers, to gauge where we are in the slow turn of the year. We feel the seasons in our heartbeat, in the thrum of blood in our veins. Growing up in the north of Scotland, the weather shaped our lives. Now, living in a village in central Scotland, the weather shapes my days, but those early years have made me acutely aware of the seasons, particularly winter. However even life long city dwellers recognise the signs. That first step outside in the morning, be it to pick up milk from the doorstep, walk to the station, or run the children to school tells us with one sniff of the air, one glance at the sky, and the light, where we are in the season, how comparatively warm, or cold, wet or windy it is for the time of year, and places us in the world for that day.

Our tolerance for variations within the seasonal norm is comparatively narrow, and when weather misbehaves as it did in December, it throws our seasonal clock off kilter. I spent December in a state of uneasy apprehension; the world didn't feel right. Temperatures were too high. The rain was incessant. Local fields flooded; cocky seagulls floated on the temporary lochans. Berries remained on trees, the birds able to find food not usually available in winter. Winter duvets were too thick. Winter coats were too warm. Cosy jumpers could not be worn indoors. The fire was not on all day (a particular winter pleasure that I missed very much).  

Even if the snowy weather turns milder again, as currently forecast, at least I will know that the seasonal thermostat tipped fleetingly to 'winter'. I will feel happier knowing that the rhythms of our year, at our particular spot on the planet, held true.

The Cookery Calendar Challenge '16- January

I tend to cook the same recipes for family meals, and hardly ever plan ahead. My family (dear to me as they are in every way) isn't the easiest to feed, and I have found family cooking has become a stressor in my life, rather than a pleasure. I have lots of recipe books, some well used and loved, some never used, though all bought with the very best of intentions.
My new year's resolution is to regain control and confidence in the kitchen by meal planning; shopping and cooking in a more organised, systematic fashion. In the name of accountability, I have also decided to blog about it, and set myself a monthly cookery challenge: The Cookery Calendar Challenge. 

The first week of each month I will select a cookery book from my shelf and cook a minimum of two new recipes from it. The book may be one that has been long-neglected, or one from which I cook the same things repeatedly, neglecting many of the recipes within. The recipes will be for any meal, though I suspect it will be mainly family dinner recipes, as that is my main stressor. Cakes and bakes are excluded, but puddings are included. At the beginning of the every month I will report back on the recipes, give a short review of the book, and announce my cookery book choice for the following month.  My goals for this challenge are:

1) to reinvigorate my repertoire of family meals

2) to revisit my cookery book collection in a systematic manner

3) to encourage me to plan and shop for family meals in an organised way 

If you would like to join with the Cookery Calendar Challenge, please do! It would be fun to do this with others. Start at any time; this will be an ongoing project, open to all, free to join, leave, or return whenever you like. If you blog about it, please link back to my Cookery Calendar Challenge post in your post. There's a grab badge in the side bar for you to display on your blog too if you like. (Just copy and paste the code into your blog dashboard to display) I will also be posting on Instagram using hashtag #cookerycalendarchallenge. (You'll find me @penny.homemadeheart). There is also the Cookery Calendar Challenge page here, with all the information you need.

My cookery book for January 2016 is 'Mary Berry Cooks' published in 2014 by BBC Books.