Birthday Traditions

Monday Supper day and as it is Dave's birthday tomorrow we had cake for dessert, got out the fancy vintage china and put two candles on his cake.

These are traditional arrangements. We always do it. According to Miss Martha anyway.

Our Birthday Traditions

1. Making Monday supper for Martha's folks. This has been happening since Martha was a foetus. Around ten years now.

2. Having a birthday cake on the Monday closest to someone's birthday. Been going on since Martha was old enough to take notice of birthdays. Six or seven years.

3. Getting the old bone china out. I did that once for Martha's birthday. Next birthday along had to do it again. Because we always do that. Been doing it ever since. Couple of years now. Last week, Evie's birthday, I trotted out some old pastry forks I found in a charity shop. New tradition. Martha is talking about getting napkins.

4. Having a system for candles on an adult's cake. Add the individual numbers of their new age. If needs be, add them again until a number between 1 and 9 is produced. There are two candles on Dave's cake. Care to guess what age he will be tomorrow?

The cake was flavoured with ginger and the filling was lemon butter icing with a lemon glazing. It was a bit wobbly (my trademark) and was delicious.

One Day At A Time

When I decided to write up the blog every day in October I had no idea how significant this October was going to be. But, like all months, it will just have to be lived one day at a time.

And this day was a beauty. Blue skies, dry, and a mild, mild air.

I took these pictures.

I was hoping for free seed from these beauties. But they're mouldering on the plants. Guess I'll just have to invest in a packet for next year if I want these beautiful, dark sunflowers. Some of them are close to black. Free seed I did collect today from helenium, nasturtiums (four kinds), verbascum, Californian poppies and sidalcea. The Californian poppy was particularly generous. Too late for sowing, all will have to wait until spring. I already have lots of sweet william, aquilegia, foxglove and verbascum growing from seed collected earlier in the season.

Despite his aching ribs, Bert started to repair his drystone wall.

Brendan, my brother-in-law, helped Bert build the wall around ten years ago. Bert recalled him saying, use every stone, for every stone has a place. He followed that rule today.

We have Martha and Evie staying with us this evening.

Monday Suppers

Zoe's last task of the year, pruning and tying in raspberries

Zoe and family have been growing vegetables here in Springhill for many years and

I’ve been cooking Monday supper for them all for most of those years. At first, it seemed like a lot of work, especially the part where I’d have to decide what to make. Then, earlier this year, I had a great idea. Instead of me choosing what to cook I’d ask everyone, in turn, to pick the menu starting with the youngest, Miss Evie and working up to myself, the most senior member of the family.

Typical menu choices would be,

1. Evie – Hot Dogs, Steamed Chocolate Pudding with Chocolate Sauce and Popping Candy Ice Cream.

2. Martha – Pizza, Cake with Icing and Sprinkles

3. Zoe – Lasagne, Fruit Crumble

4. Dave – Lamb Tagine, Lemon Meringue Pie

5. Bert - Mince and Onions, Mashed Potato, Apple Tart

6. Me - Cottage Pie, Trifle

And then it would be Evie again who would choose Hot Dogs, Steamed Chocolate Pudding with Chocolate Sauce and Popping Candy Ice Cream. Her menu choice has never varied since we began taking turns. Martha always has pizza but sometimes varies her dessert. Zoe will choose something that she knows I find easy to make and Dave won’t. I’ve tried a few new dishes thanks to Dave and I’m glad of it.

Yesterday was the final Monday supper of the season as they won’t be gardening again until February. We had Pollo Verde, which was Dave’s choice, and Apple Crumble. I made a salad of lettuce, apples, flaked almonds and tomatoes and dressed it with a mustard and honey dressing. In keeping with the plan to use up ancient foodstuffs the honey (our own) had fermented but that only added to the piquancy of the dressing.

Bert said it was the best Monday supper ever. My portion was moderate and delicious and, at one point, sitting there with the family, I experienced such a rare and delightful feeling of utter contentment. All felt right with my world. Roll on February!

Martha watering strawberries back in 2012.

On Reading Books

One great disadvantage of a rural childhood was not having access to the public library. There was a library of sorts at our primary school but one large cardboard box would have held all that it contained. Our teacher Cassie was horrible and we only got to read occasionally. I don't remember being allowed to choose the books either. She'd just give one to us and that was that. The only book I remember from school was The Wind In The Willows and I recall being really confused at the part where Pan appears to Mole and Ratty and feeling much easier when the story returned to the adventures of Toad.

At home there never seemed to be enough books because we all read them so fast. I usually got first go at fresh books because I was the oldest. Our mother must have noticed this. She returned one day from shopping in Ballymena with a book for my younger sister, also a voracious reader. The book Matty brought for Anne was My Friend Flicka by Mary O'Hara. She informed us that Anne would get to read it first, then it would be her turn and, after that, the book was up for grabs. I could hardly bear having to wait but wait I did. Matty stood firm. My Friend Flicka was the first book in a trilogy and Matty also bought the next two, Thunderhead and The Green Grass of Wyoming. Anne got first dibs on those as well. They were a terrific read and well worth waiting for.

Christmas time brought great reading opportunities. Everyone got one or two books at Christmas, usually Puffin or Armada paperbacks and these would be hidden away with the other presents. I'd search the house until I found the stash of books, usually hidden on the high shelf in her wardrobe. For several days every chance I got, I'd be up there, standing beside the wardrobe in our parent's bedroom reading hungrily, nervous, praying not to be discovered. And I never was.

Of course when Christmas Day arrived I hadn't a thing to read and I used to look jealously on Anne as she sat there enjoying her new books. Much later when I confessed all to Matty she said it explained a lot for she could never understand why I showed so little interest in the Christmas books.

It's often a thankless task being a parent. Imagine my poor mother carefully picking out my books only to see me ignore them. I hadn't even the sense to pretend to read them. I wonder would she have preferred to know then that she had reared a sneak without a notion how to defer gratification despite the lesson with the Mary O'Hara trilogy.

Sometime soon I shall explain why it is that I particularly love dusty old books.