Jolly Super
Last Saturday saw the start of English Wine Week and to celebrate we shared a selection of some of my current favourites on Saturday Kitchen.
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The Female of the Species
The Knackered Mother (knackeredus maternius) is most commonly seen in her natural habitat, the kitchen. Here, she slaves away putting food on the table for her children to flick all over the floor, occasionally falling silent to actually eat some of it. She exists on a diet of sandwich crusts, leftover fish fingers and mint kitkats with the odd half-cup of lukewarm tea if she’s lucky.
Plane Truths
My 6yo boy’s favourite current pastime is writing secret agent-type notes, folding them into paper aeroplanes and pinging them round the door of the kitchen.
Festival Hype
I don’t get big festivals. There was a massive festival on the Isle of Wight at the weekend and a friend came back complaining of feeling old.
Press For Change
Three brave fellow British Mummy Bloggers have just returned from a visit to Bangladesh with Save The Children to raise awareness for the Press For Change campaign, one that aims to help prevent the deaths of children.
The Naked Truth
Half-watching How To Look Good Naked whilst slowly sewing name tapes to school uniform sweatshirts/trousers/polo shirts before eldest boy goes back next week, I started thinking about my own failsafe rules.
Reality Bytes
Following two weeks away on holiday (we did a Bromsgroves, Mrs T), I feel somewhat restored by my break from the norm.
Mistresses on BBC1 makes me want to…
1. Smoke (I know, I know…). 2. Cry for all those failed pregnancy tests I used to do 3. Have a functional kitchen like Katie 4.
Flying Solo
I used to travel abroad alot in my old, full-time, pre-children job. In fact, so often I had a bag that remained permanently half-packed, ready to be topped up last minute.
You had me at ‘Let’s Cook’
Dear Celebrity Masterchef, I thought I could do it. I thought I could go cold turkey, perhaps even use the time I used to spend with you doing something more productive. Perhaps take up the hem on the trousers I bought over a month ago, maybe finish the book I have been reading for the last two. Of course, I’d forgotten how seductive you are, with your cooking-with-medical-urgency theme tune, your big-swell music when you announce the finalists, your increasingly tenuous celebrity contestants (who I usually love by the end) and your shouty presenters that cry when they hit on a culinary revelation.
Not tonight dear…
“Ohmigod, that’s a headache wine” said a friend the other day after sipping a Spanish white wine. Then Ladybird World Mother said that she too got wretched headaches when drinking wine and doesn’t even throw it back like the old days (her words, not mine).
