My work patterns are a-changing this Autumn and, for September at least, I have Fridays off – what a treat! How to celebrate? Well what better than a walk on a glorious sunny morning, followed by a chocolate muffin!
It is 21 years since I last had a ‘free Friday’. Back then, Prom-dress daughter was a new-born and whilst I still wanted to balance some work with two under 2s, four days a week was quite enough. I loved it then and I am loving it today.
There are no ‘Toddler Groups’ or ‘Ballet Classes’ today but I do have company, the sun is shining and my mood is ecstatic. We hike around a beautiful reservoir, catching up on lots of news and enjoying some stunning views and countryside. It is peaceful, calm and beautiful. Away from the hustle and bustle of work, the overwhelming stress of a punishing workload, and the chaos of gridlocked commuter traffic, this feels like living!
And, of course, we have cake. Not a specialist bakery today but a ‘Tesco finest Belgian Triple Chocolate Muffin’. Do we recommend? We certainly do. Mini chocolate cakes with white, dark and milk chocolate chunks, filled with a rich gooey chocolatey sauce. The buttercream topping finishes off the indulgent, velvety experience of these post-walk delights. Truly delicious and a fitting reward for our morning exertions.
It also sets me up for a more frantic afternoon of shopping for my mum, who is really immobile these days, helping Small-boy to get packed for University and gathering up Prom-dress daughter from the train station. We all have a busy weekend ahead. Thank the Lord it will last three days instead of two!
Can there be a better way to finish a bracing walk than with a 10 out of 10 slice of cake?
Victoria Sponge at Pearsons
Running is definitely out for me for the next few weeks. Despite daily yoga and a renewed commitment to my arthritis exercises, my knee joint is incredibly sore and not able to take the impact of even my modest jogging.
But, as the wise old adage goes, ‘every cloud has a silver lining‘ and for me it is walking. To quote the Arthritis Foundation
What’s not to like about walking? It’s free. It’s easy to do, and it’s not just easy on joints but it also keeps them lubricated and flexible.
And on this sunny August Saturday, we enjoy a marvellous 4 mile stroll through the lovely Lancashire countryside, exploring new tracks, discovering little churches and pretty lanes and rounding it off with a trip to Pearson’s cafe: and that Victoria Sponge.
Oh it is glorious. A firm, delicious cake, thick rich cream and a fruity shot of jam. It is a taste sensation and I savour every mouthful, trying to put off the moment when the plate is finished. Perfection on a plate and our first score of 10 out of 10. Now that is what I call a great morning …
Week 1 of the Summer holidays takes me to The Lake District, to quote William Wordsworth
” the loveliest spot that man hath found”
I’m joining friends who have recently purchased a cosy wooden lodge, a few miles north of Ambleside … and I am instantly in love. The setting is just so glorious. I actually feel as if I’m in a tree house with lush, vibrant greenery in every direction. It’s peaceful, it’s magical…its perfect.
And I am not the only person to find trees such a source of bliss. There is much research about the benefits to both physical and mental well-being in aboretal locations.
So as the Easter weekend dawns and the sun breaks out from behind the rain clouds, I do have to face the garden for a good few hours of mowing, weeding ,pruning and …. I know, bring me a pipe and slipper and call me ‘grandad‘ … but thereafter, I fire up the lap top and sit down to muse bank on March and forward to April.
Quite frankly, what didn’t happen in March? As I look back, I can see exactly why my beloved blog had to take a backseat.
Prom-dress daughter first learned that she has a severe case of glandular fever (with some alarming complications). This was, and still is, a real worry on many fronts and has led to several weekends of pelting up and down the M6 and M74 to Edinburgh and, for me, wondering what is the best course of action for her health, her happiness, her degree course and my financial survival.
Small boy was, and still is, balancing a ramping up of A level workload with a grade 8 piano exam, tons of playing in Youth Orchestras and college productions plus … far too many 18th birthday parties. At times, he has been too exhausted to eat. So, as his ‘kick ass single -mum’, I am insisting that he hears the word ‘no’ more often than usual and this has led to conflict on more than one occasion!
My eldest, who is ever buried under a mammoth medical-student workload, received the exciting news that she had been accepted, via random ballot, for the Great North Run in September 2024, … alongside the bombshell that none of her friends had. In consequence, many lonely months of training for a half marathon looms…and is, understandably, in something of a panic.
And somewhere in he middle is me. The sponge expected to soak it all up and somehow solve it all and always say ‘yes ‘ and ‘where to‘ and ‘what time’ and always be on hand ‘for a chat‘.
Only I seem to be aware that I also have a full time job, worries of my own and the occasional dream… that no- one hears about. So, all in all, it has been a month when it has felt incredibly tough to be me! On Thursday, when I left for work, realised I’d left my laptop at home, drove back, located the machine, popped into the kitchen for a quick glass of water and them promptly set off without it again, I thought ‘Blimey I am tired…I may even ‘be done’?’
But that was Thursday, I have slept since then and April is a new month, so a new start. And come what may, I resolve to make sure I find time for a weekly pause to blog back and then look forward. It can only help …
As other Gen X-ers will know, when you first get a pair of reading glasses it is… well there is no other word for it; bloody fantastic!
You pop on those simple frames and a minor miracle occurs. The years roll away, the world brightens, sharpens and comes into focus; it is simply amazing. I just had to shout out,
“Woah… now I remember what the world is supposed to look like!”
And I would probably use the same phrase to sum up the wondrous ‘half term’ I’ve just enjoyed. A refreshing week away from work is the perfect way to recharge the batteries and recall what living is ‘supposed to look like!’ I catch up with many friends. I spend time with Small boy, sorting out the myriad of little things that build up when you regularly work an 11 hour day. And I do a show, playing in the band for a local production.
I absolutely love it and find myself pondering the following. If someone were to tell me that I’d played my last ever gig, would I be more or less devastated than being told I’d taught my last ever lesson at school? I’m not sure that I know, though in my defence not much of my life is devoted to such musings.
No, alas, as single mum, you are allowed precious few moments to think about yourself. Small boy was only 3 when his dad left and he has just turned 18. That makes 15 tough years,in which I doubt I have spent even 5 minutes thinking about what I’d actually like to be doing. But in this week of contentment I do find myself wondering whether or not the life I’ve lived in the last seven days is now the life I’d like to be living far more of the time.
Eek! If only seeing clearly through this conundrum were as easy as popping on my reading glasses … !
Golly gosh folks, one moment I’m in my thirties, in a Southwest hospital, high on gas and air and crooning Nat King Cole songs to any unfortunate soul passing by the birthing pool room, and the next; nearly 2 decades have past and my son, the new little being who was born that memorable day, and I are trundling around Tesco stocking up on Vodka and Moretti beer for his coming of age party. Where does the time go?
Where indeed? And on this particular eighteenth, I am also facing the reality that all of my children are now viewed as adults, in the eyes of the law at least. They can vote, serve on a jury and, or course, go to the pub! It is a truly epic journey from the days of formula milk, car seats, ballet classes and Saturday morning football… for me as well as them. Looking back, I actually cannot understand how I ever found the energy to fit everything in!
Exhaustion aside, however, the trip down memory lane is a real joy for this single mum, as she ponders her role in the era of adult offspring. Years and years of good times, shared adventures, crazy capers and much laughter. Of course there have been tense and tricky times too, but one of the nice tricks of my mind, maybe everybody’s is that it tends to filter those out or at least push them into the background letting the brighter pictures and reminiscences dance and shine.
But back to the eve of Small boy’s party, where there is precious little time for looking backwards! We have a house to clear, disco lights to set up, a play list to perfect and costumes to finish off. Costumes? Why yes, my son has a theme; ‘come dressed as a musician‘ is his choice. He and two pals are going as the Bee Gees so, as I blog, he is strutting around the house, in white flares, face-timing his sisters for advice about wigs!
My costume? Now don’t be silly! If 40+ eighteen years olds are descending on my house then I am off out; at least for the first few hours. But if I was to dress up… did I mention that I do great Nat King Cole? Back in the birthing pool, I was singing ‘Let there be love’ . And what a perfect way to end this post, because, as lyrics go, there is no better advice I could give to my grown-up offspring as they launch into the world. Live with your heart, always respect the hearts of others and … the rest will sort itself out!
I scroll through the article with sceptical eyes. It has been such a grim 12 months for humanity, from conflicts and the cost of living crisis to chaotic government and what appears to be an ever-accelerating climate catastrophe, that good news is difficult to comprehend… let alone believe.
Indeed, in a year that witnessed more record-breaking temperatures, flash flooding and wild fires, a previous edition of the same newspaper reported scientists grimly heralding 2023 as a year in which ‘humanity exposed its inability to tackle climate crisis…’ And against this terrifying backdrop of visible destructive change, disappointment at the outcomes of COP 28 was so palpable that I couldn’t summons up the enthusiasm to write the annual blog about our attempts to ‘go a bit greener’ … until now!
The Guardian article is cautious and emphasises that the world is still years behind a schedule of true hope. Nonetheless, there is some optimism that “emissions from energy use may have peaked” which is an important milestone. And I don’t know about you, but I decide that I’ll take any green shoots on offer. Furthermore, I sit myself down, to take stock of our household eco-efforts this year. So come along … to the bathroom
I remain almost plastic free in the smallest room with soap for face, hands, body and hair. And to keep everything tidily in place and soap-scum free, I have discovered the fabulous Smol magnets, (these things are genius), plus a soap bag picked up at a Summer market in Edinburgh.
Fussy deodorants keeps me smelling fresh and waste packaging to a minimum. And you’ll also spot a new razor suckered to the shower wall, courtesy of my eldest daughter, who introduced the house to the wonderful world of Estrid Razors; believe me those things are built to last! The replacement blades are delivered via subscription service, so not only is it greener but also hugely convenient!
But wait, I did say ‘almost‘ plastic free! Alas, my quest to find a hair-conditioner bar is yet to meet with success and I have, for now, reverted to a plastic tub of conditioner to tame my curly locks. But, I search on!
Getting back to our home, I descend to the kitchen, where Smol is again my current company of choice, following a colleague’s recommendation. These days, I swerve the supermarket ‘household product’ aisle completely, as Smol post tabs for the dishwasher, clothes washer and cleaning sprays to my door. For me, these products do the job and managing delivery dates is so easy and flexible, that it feels like good value too.
And where better to finish than by the bin, with my recycling of ‘soft plastic’ at the local supermarket? This one was inspired last year by Jen Gale, ‘Zero waste mum’ who only puts her bin out once per year. The sustainable super star, motivated our rather more modest commitment to putting our grey bin (of non-recycling) out every 6 weeks instead of every 3. And we have managed it!
But have I made a difference? Well Smol, for one, tell me I have.
And I hope so, however small it, because, when despairing of our political leaders and energy companies, I find it helpful to switch them off, avoid the tendency to mope and moan and do something… do anything! In any case I shall carry on trying in 2024 and keep you posted but in the meantime, a very Happy New Year to all…
Woohoo everyone; two days until the ‘Big Day’ and what a frenzied and frantic December it has been! Three cheers to Smallboy and his French Horn, who have broken every family record for the number of Christmas concerts a person can appear but, this is the first moment of quiet I’ve found for a blog post and, before it is too late, I must write something about my Advent Calendar…
Ooh yes, just look at the jammy treats hiding behind the doors of my Christmas count-down creation!
Now; I have to confess that I’ve previously scorned the trend for lavish Advent Calendars. And spending hundreds, sometimes thousands of pounds on luxury epics from Fortnum and Mason, Liberty or Dior still seems like insanity itself and the preserve of those with ‘more money than sense’. But, speaking of preserves….
This year, my daughter sends me the ‘Bonne Maman‘ calendar and … it is fantastic! Every morning a little jar that is so delicious I find five minutes, in my usually strict no-breakfast dash for work, to indulge in a hot buttered crumpet topped with a dash of the latest jam. Strawberry, apricot, caramel, blackcurrant; it is all utterly scrumptious.
So amidst the relentlessly busy days and nights of December, I have my breakfast moments to savour. Goodness gracious, those jams are so tasty I actually look forward to getting up on the dark and chilly mornings. I also discover that racing off to work with some food in my stomach really does makes the day feel a lot better!
But if I thought the Bonne Maman bonanza couldn’t get any better, Small boy, in a creative moment of pure genius, spots that the empty jars are the perfect size for a shot of Baby Guinnes. It is a cocktail of Christmassy delight and, as my offspring all return for the Yuletide holidays, proves to be a universal household hit!
Well, this settles any dispute for me; his year I’ve definitely made it through December with the best Advent Calendar in the world!
And so, this evening, I raise a mini-jam jar of coffee liqueur and Baileys, to one and all. Whatever your festive holidays look like this year, try to find five minutes for yourself in each day, appreciate the gifts from those who care about you, go with the flow of any teenage ‘good ideas‘ and … enjoy!
A 6am text pings into the darkness of Sunday morning,
“Mum, I’m in A &E…”
It is Prom-dress daughter.
A Saturday night out has ended with my younger daughter slipping on the wet Edinburgh cobbles and splitting her head open.
“Apparently, I sprung up ready to party on!”
she tells me later, shouting,
“Whose round is it next?”
Fortunately for us all, her friends insist instead that she heads to A &E, by which time she is throwing up, blacking out, slurring her speech… and is admitted for a severe concussion.
By the time she calls me, she has been in the hospital for over 6 hours and is being ‘glued’ back together, and a few hours after that is finally allowed to leave but under strict instructions to do very little for the next week….and her matted and blood stained hair must definitely go nowhere near a shower!
It seems a good time to come home!
So I drive up to the Scottish capital and bring her back to our corner of the North West for a few days. And this, when she stops the distinctly alarming trait of suddenly falling asleep or randomly sitting down with her head between her knees with a dizzy spell, is rather lovely. Both Small Boy and I find it lots of fun to have our usual house of two suddenly swelled to three. Throw in the good fortune of a Friday off work (disaggregated CPD day for the fellow educators out there) and it becomes a top time for us all. Who would have thought it? Maybe those who penned the wise old adage ‘every cloud has a silver lining‘.
I am happy to report that, by the end of the week, Prom-dress daughter is fully recovered, can finally wash her hair and is booking a return train to Uni land. Circumstances aside, however, it has been an unexpected treat to have her back for few days and we shall miss her as she inter-cities North….
After a pretty terrible few weeks, half term seems like a gift from the Gods…
From literary exploits in lkley, then a catch-up with my eldest daughter on beautiful Tynemouth beach, to lunching and coffees with friends and family upon my return to the Northwest, the precious week passes by in a happy haze.
Could I also brand it as successful?
‘Well in the Expert Editor blog post ‘8 things unsuccessful people do in their free time’, failing to make time for loved ones comes in at number 4, so maybe I can. Furthermore, the same cautionary list cites ‘ignoring their health’ as the third common trait of the unsuccessful and this week I become something of a fitness fiend with daily yoga on top of gruelling arthritis exercises and lots of walking!
So good fortune is clearly in the air and, lo and behold better is to come. On Thursday night, Smallboy and I are grappling with some A level Physics revision and up to our ears in quarks, baryons and antimatter when a email notification pops onto the screen.
“Oh no mum… it’s from UCAS…it says I have one decision..”
In what feels like an age, my son manages to log into his portal, and sure enough a ‘decision awaits’, He descends into talking gibberish and is clearly in a bit of a panic,
“I think this means a rejection mum, someone at college got an offer last week and she showed me her screen and I’m sure it said offer … not decision.”
But, other UCAS hopefuls take heart, because this is not the case at all. Instead we find Small boy’s first University offer and he is over the moon. Quarks are cast aside as he races off to text… everyone! And to open two celebratory beers to mark the moment,
“This means if I get my grades… I am actually off to Uni”
he repeats several times, as if unable to believe that it is all real. He is excitement and relief all rolled into one.
So, that seals the deal for this half term; a happy and very successful week…
Smashing Single Parenthood 