Prouder than a proud thing

It has been the dance school’s production of The Nutcracker this weekend. The tension and excitement has been building since Eldest was cast as Clara, and the relations and friends were primed and ready to attend so that someone would be watching her at each of three performances. We went to the last night last night. It wasn’t enough! Mother of Leading Boy14 had been on Saturday night as well, and I wished I’d done the same. Eldest was lovely; the whole school had gone up a notch since their show three years ago, and it was impossible to take it all in in one go. Miss Dance Teacher had done wonders with choreography so that all the children had the potential to look good even if all they could really do was ‘good toes, naughty toes’. The sweetness of four little angels helping the fair godmother pick stars from the sky! And the costumes were wonderful: tutus in all directions! From the smallest child who sat on the stage too struck by the presence of the audience to actually dance to the Sugar Plum Fairy in all her technical pointe shoe glory it was a delight.
Inevitably the 5 boys in the school were particularly noticeable: four of them doing a Russian dance were an absolute scream as the two little ones made a terrific stab at doing the leaps of Leading Boy14 and Leading Boy15. Wonderful! And their presence meant we were treated to pas de deux by both the Sugar Plum and her Prince, and Clara and the Nutcracker. They’re boys not men so their role was supportive rather that any sort of lifting or ‘real’ help, but what fun!
Now she is back down to earth with sore feet and a worry that it will be her last show – in three years time she will have left school.
We await the hideously expensive DVD.

Homemade is best, maybe!

As usual I’ve been thinking about my contribution to the family pot which as you know is not a financial one, despite the fact that it is me who spends the bulk of our income. This means I decide how best to spend our money, and make savings or economies where I see fit.

As a result it doesn’t matter how much I love all the folksy stuff in the shops right now I feel quite unable to buy it: I could make it myself! The problem, as Eldest points out regularly, is that I don’t! So I’m working on revising her view…
To that end I’ve had a lovely time cutting out squares and am in the throws of producing cushions and hearts for my girls: Santa’s Little Helpers are very busy!
It remains to be seen if this is a sensible use of my time. Past experience tells me that people are not always appreciative of things you make as presents. The year I gave our siblings home made hampers that included my chutney, mincemeat and fudge there were one or two distinctly underwhelmed thank-yous. It is hard to believe that someone else’s ‘home made’ produce would have been more appropriate, but I would have spent money (instead of time)…
To be fair the girls are usually pleased with homemade items. In their time they’ve received clothing, dressing-up clothes, curtains, quilts, cushions and bags. Husband has been given a waistcoat, cummerbund, bow tie and a tiny teddy all made by his wife. And he’s worn them! I have made wedding and bridesmaid dresses for several friends and relations; my labour being their wedding present. These are labours of love that people have been pleased with, but it is not always so!
An early gift of a garage for my younger brothers, suitable for their matchbox cars, and made in secret from a Weetabix box and a great deal of Copydex was, perhaps deservedly, looked upon with derision, although my kind mother made them thank me. I have no idea what the uncles did with their polystyrene boats, made the same year. Blue Peter has a lot to answer for.

A Dependant's Tale

There has always been a soldier in my life. When I left home, and before I was married, I was not strictly dependant upon one, but my ‘escape’ was relatively brief.
I was born in a British Military Hospital in Münster when my parents were in Germany with the Royal Artillery (the Gunners). At the time they were living in a caravan because they were considered too young to be married (they were 22) and so the Army wouldn’t provide them with a married quarter. My imminent arrival resulted in two house-sitting arrangements until a quarter could be found. We later moved to Hanover and then Hildesheim, before moving to Larkhill on Salisbury Plain in time for me to go to school. We moved again as Father’s career took him through further training at Staff College, first at Shrivenham, then Camberley and on to Barton Stacey. I went to 4 schools before becoming a boarder in Kent when I was 10. I stayed at that school for 6 years, moving to another for the 6th form. My parents and ‘home’ continued to move, including another posting to Germany and one to Northern Ireland. By the time my parents bought a home of their own I had lived in 15 quarters, 2 schools (at 4 addresses) and 4 student addresses in London and Leeds. I was 21. This is not unusual in the services.
Husband was a soldier for 30 years; he left the Army last month. We were married as the first of the recent Gulf Wars came to an end in 1991; I was very glad he was in a desk job, as he has been during the current conflicts. We were separated soon after Eldest was born when he did a tour in Northern Ireland, and again when he served in Bosnia (he missed her first two Christmases). As a 'dependant' you have to expect this, it is their job after all, but none of us like it. Lucky Youngest has never been without him. Since we married we have lived at 9 addresses and this we plan will be our last.
My uncle and one of my brothers both missed our wedding as they were in the Gulf, one an RAF navigator and the other a Gunner, like Husband. Father did three tours in Northern Ireland in the 1970s when I was away at boarding school. I got all my friends to write to him!
Paternal Grandfather was in the Army Education Corps. He and his family were in Singapore when the Japanese attacked in WW2, and his wife and children were evacuated on the last ship out. He died in Changi. On my mother’s side, Great-Grandfather, commanded the 1st Battalion The Black Watch and was killed in early September 1914 at the Battle of The Aisne. He left a wife and four children. His only son was also in The Black Watch, and was killed in France in 1940.
I will count my blessings on Remembrance Sunday once again.

Circular skirts

From this:...........................to six of these!

Not as easy a trick as I might have hoped. Youngest considered the fabric 'so lush' she wanted something made for her, but it came from Miss Danceteacher with a request for circular skirts for the Liquorish Allsorts. Eldest is performing in The Nutcracker with her dance school and I had offered my sewing skills once more. Miss Danceteacher's mother had already made 6 and had lost the will to live, so would I finish the job? Polyester satin that will look stunning on the modern dancing Allsorts with matching leggings and black T-shirts, but the fabric was thin and slippery making level hems frankly impossible. They do not bear any sort of inspection but should hold together and look great on stage!

This weekend we have to report on Saturday to learn what hairstyles and make-up our children will require, and then on Sunday they get their photos taken so they can make a bit of extra money when we all see our darlings caught in costume! Of course we've already contributed to the cost of costumes and bought tickets to the shows, not to mention the families' commitment to all the rehearsals.

Half-term break

That's half-term over for another term then. The girls and I have been to our favorite other place: the Isle of Purbeck in Dorset. We've had glorious weather, enjoyed a number of fine walks, eaten a scrumptious cream tea (well, strictly speaking only I ate a scrumptious cream tea. For some unknown reason Eldest doesn't like clotted cream, and Youngest prefers a toasted teacake. Foolishly they dared me to eat both portions of clotted cream, something that I'm able to report I had no difficulty in achieving.), read several novels, did lots of Times puzzles and generally chilled out. The cottage is petite and there is no TV so it is a great place for quality family time.

But the best laid plans can go awry! Husband came down after uni on Tuesday night and joined us for a walk and pub lunch the next day. I put him back on the train on Thursday at 6.20am and he stayed in a hotel overnight. Got a call on Friday saying he was on his way. The train broke down: it took him 2 1/2 hours to get from Bristol to Bath where he gave up and cadged a bed off the in-laws. On reflection it didn't seem worth his while to come south on Saturday since we needed to get back early on Sunday for Eldest's inevitable ballet. So we came home on Saturday afternoon so he wouldn't be alone and we wouldn't be under pressure on Sunday morning.

The girls are convinced I kiboshed British Rail so we could be home for Strictly......

Crab Apple Jelly

Having just swapped a jar of my Crab Apple Jelly for one of Quince and Apple Jelly made by Cooking Neighbour it is time I reported on the making. Husband returned from the allotment with a bagful of windfalls from the hedgerow. Covered these with a pint of water per pound of crab apples, and boiled them up in my jam pan, simmering until they were mushy. Strain this through a jelly bag and then you can cook up the apple again with half the amount of liquid used on the first simmer. Once again this will need straining through your jelly bag. Measure your strained liquid.

For every pint of apple 'juice' you need a pound of sugar. Put them together in your jam pan and heat gently stirring regularly until the sugar has dissolved. Bring the mixture up to a rolling boil and test for set. I find it worth using a jam thermometer to see if it's reached 'setting point' before it's worth testing for a set. You need to put a teaspoon of the mixture onto a cold plate and pop it in the fridge for a few minutes. If the jelly wrinkles when you push a finger across it it is ready, if you just get a wet finger it is not! Jelly usually needs skimming as it gets very frothy. The froth tastes OK but it doesn't look pretty. Pot the jelly in warm sterilised jars before it cools, add a wax circle and a lid. Label when cold (otherwise you'll find the label difficult to remove when you recycle the jars next time around).

You can throw in chopped herbs to make say, mint jelly, but you need a surprising amount to make a real impression, and there wasn't enough mint or sage worth using left in my garden. The advantage of not adding anything is that you can use this jelly as an accompaniment to any roast meat, but it is also delicious on a piece of bread and butter - or on a drop scone was how my granny served it!

Climate Change

According to the blogosphere today is the day to take action and write about climate change. To do this properly you have to sign up with e-mails and passwords and things. Since this space at the bottom of the bottom drawer in the filing cabinet belongs to me I didn’t want to sign, and I couldn’t make them give me a badge. I’m just not techi enough.
Thought I could think about what we do and don’t do all on my lonesome; I can confess without fear of ridicule.
It used to be that only hippies and earth mothers were into growing their own food and making things for themselves. Now the allotments have waiting lists, crafts (particularly knitting) are the thing to be seen to do, and the whole recycling movement is the fashion for all. The march away from free plastic bags has brought a revolution in alternative bags. So, in our bid to be fashionable, and maybe save the planet from climate change while we’re at it, this is what our family is doing:

• Husband has an allotment and grows more and more of the family’s food. I use his produce for our meals but am also getting better at finding ways to prolong our use of those gluts. Lots of pickle, jelly and jam, but also best ways to freeze things for later.
• We choose local in goods and services when possible, then Wiltshire, then England and so on.
• We re-use plastic bags when we get them, and carry a hessian bag in order to turn down the offer of plastic as much as possible.
• The girls go to and from school on a bus. Our rural idyll means my taxi service for after school clubs is busy most nights, but I try to save other errands to be done on the same outing. Sainsburys deliver my weekly groceries.
• As they’ve needed replacing we’ve swapped to low energy light bulbs - despite their size and poor ambient light.
• I’ve made a portion of my own clothes since I was eleven, and I mend too. I keep looking at the Re-Fashion and Make pledge and will investigate again.
• I line dry in summer and tumble in poor weather. Love the smell of line dried laundry but get complaints from the family about softness. Tumble drying means I don’t need to use fabric softener, and I console myself that I rarely iron anything. Washing is sorted by colour and temperature and only washed when there is a full load.
• We ought to save more water. There’s only one water butt, and though I save washing-up water, vegetable cleaning water and the condenser tumble dryer water for the garden in dry weather I haven’t yet found a use for grey water otherwise… Most of us bath or shower daily and we have no plans to stop. The water is softened so at least we don’t use much product to get things clean.
• Wiltshire collects our paper, glass, clothes, shoes and tins. We compost food waste, cardboard and garden waste. We can’t fill our ordinary wheely bin. But we fail to save and recycle plastic. Could do better.
• We save envelopes, cards, postage stamps, wrapping paper, string and ribbons and anything else we think might prove useful. I haven't yet turned into my grandmother: a clever woman of slender means and thrifty habits it was perfectly normal to receive on your birthday the front half of a used card with her greeting on the back sent in a re-used envelope that the postman must have enjoyed deciphering!

I'm off to see what other people have been writing about in the hope that someone will have succeeded in being funny. It may be important, but the post is dull!