Reflections in, on and round about…with a lot of cooking on the side
Stories that don’t fit elsewhere and add to the rich fabric of life….
The other day, someone asked me, Do you miss him? I was a little girl – probably nine or ten – when I first encountered a death in the family. My father’s mother. We called her Wee Granny. I don’t remember her. Hardly surprising because the only time I did ever meet her, I was … Continue reading Different people. Different grief.
For the first time in 23 years, I celebrate The Husband's birthday without him. He didn't "do" birthdays. I did. That photograph, I took of him in 2016 and used it for the invitation to celebrate his 70th birthday. Seven years ago. Exactly a month ago, on 5 June, I said goodbye to him forever. … Continue reading This day, 23 years later, will never be the same
There are some days that one never forgets. What happened, where you were, what you were doing and what followed. I was standing in my kitchen starting to get supper ready when I heard the news that Queen Elizabeth II had died. It got me thinking about how, in my life, I've lived history. It's … Continue reading Some September Stuff
Whenever I hear Abba's Waterloo, my eleven year old self remembers the first "pop" song that appealed to her - the very first time she heard it. https://youtu.be/3FsVeMz1F5c It was a weekday afternoon and the radio was on - we had one of those radiograms that had the radio in the middle, a turntable on … Continue reading Six decades, only six songs? Impossible
The Husband groans every time some of my regular customers arrive at the market, bulging bag in hand and make a bee-line for me. I take great delight in these deliveries: they're usually glass jars (and the odd bottle) that they have emptied and saved. Sometimes for me to refill or to fill afresh. Before … Continue reading The quest to use less plastic
For the last couple of days, I have been musing on the heady, awful and wonderful days of the mid-1980s. At the moment, there's a kind of pall hanging over South Africa which is a function of the nearly fifteen years of electrickery drama, ongoing corruption and impunity, only the surface of which Zondo has scratched. … Continue reading The dying memories of the 1980s: looking back to look at the now
I have a to-do list of promises that is as long as my arm (and the other and both legs) of recipes that I've said I'll write up and share. This promise was made two years ago. It's weird that it's two years ago. It also seems that the phrase "two years" is running through … Continue reading Sourdough – it’s a journey of constant learning
It's Mothers' Day today. Growing up, Mothers' Day was not a thing. I do, though, remember sermons about Mothering Sunday. Until I went to boarding school where peer group pressure made me pay attention and "do the right thing". My mother's response was less than enthusiastic which, with hindsight, I still don't understand. Was I … Continue reading Musings on Mothers, Motherhood and Choices
An opening word - or three I wrote this post as an experiment in November 2018 in response to a challenge: pick one favourite song. For me, that is a virtually impossible task. I have favourites depending on my mood, what I'm hearing, the context, where I am... I delighted in rising to that challenge … Continue reading The soundtrack to my life – a kind of musical “back story”
Pickled fish is an iconic traditional South African dish. I first ate pickled fish at the ripe old age of about seven. It was the starter for Christmas lunch: the first I really remember. I was instantly smitten. Auntie Doris made it every year and for all the years we "had Christmas" at number 10, … Continue reading Pickled Fish: a South African Tradition