Today

Such a stern message to read with my breakfast coffee.  With the weight of our democratic responsibilities heavy on our shoulders, we stopped by the polling station on the way to the supermarket this morning and joined a queue to place our crosses in – we hope – the right boxes.

We can do no more.

No need for a further reminder!

As I put the fresh tulips into the vase, I had other things on my mind, for it would have been Mummy’s 85th birthday today.  My ears pricked up as I heard a conversation on Womans Hour with Daphne Todd, shortlisted for the BP Portrait Award, talking about the portrait she painted of her mother.

Of course, I couldn’t help myself but google…

and reach a very quick and positive conclusion that I prefer to remember my own mother like this.  The kind of memory which Daphne Todd’s extraordinary work provokes are best left undisturbed for now, because believe me, they don’t go away, however hard I try.

One thing is certain, she would not have wanted us to mope.  Time to get on with making further serious decisions…which pillow would we prefer when we are in Montreal shortly?

St George’s Day

I was listening to a radio discussion about patron saints recently, pricking my ears up when someone proposed that there could be a more appropriate patron saint of England than St George.  But as is the way with listening to the radio on a car journey, I missed the start of the argument, when the reasons why good old St George will no longer do were stated and switched off before the end as well.  Though I intended to go online and listen again, life somehow moved on and I forgot all about it.

Googling this morning, to find the original programme, I find that a discussion has taken place and listeners have voted in favour of St Alban (who is not so easy to google and is very much overshadowed by the eponymous city)

But see what happens when my back is turned?  All of those stories of a brave knight in shining armour told at Brownie pack meetings, images of dragons and white flags with red crosses – all could be overturned in the wink of an eye.

I doubt it.

For now, enjoy this clipping from today’s paper to celebrate St George’s Day which amused me this morning.  I had fun spotting as many features associated with England as I could: any advance on 17 18?

Enough

I suppose the name of my blog gives a clue to my philosophy of life - if I could be grand enough to have such a thing.   I think the ability to recognise "enough" is greatly under rated and think back to a poster on the wall of the library in the first school I worked.  It was a cartoon of a small rowing boat with two or three hippos squashed in; another one was about to leap onboard and the caption said it all:

More is not always better.

So yesterday, dawdling in the bathroom as often happens on a Sunday morning, I found myself nodding along with Clive James as he spent five minutes voicing a few thoughts on matters of taste, ostentation, yachts, wealth and the US election.  I didn't realise we felt similarly about so many things.

The script of his programme can be read here and there's a listen again link alongside.

Russian Oligarchs may find some parts of the programme upsetting.

Disaster averted

I enjoy cooking and like any excuse to spend a morning in the kitchen with Radio 4 and no time constraints. This morning, I had to make one of my brown rice salads to take to Cherington later, where my WI is entertaining a party of Highgrove garden visitors to lunch. Whilst I was listening to Desert Island Discs (Richard Ingrams, surprisingly interesting and entertaining I thought) I decided to get on and bake an apple cake from the Ottolenghi recipe book. Ottolenghi in Islington is one of Edward's favourite restaurants and having shared a great, relaxing meal there with him I bought the book intending to give it to him. No chance though - when I saw the yummy things inside I hung on to it and have made a couple of things very successfully already.

So, with friends coming over for supper tomorrow and a few things from the book chosen, I gathered the ingredients for the Apple and Maple Syrup cake and set to following the rather unusual recipe which begins by whisking sugar, vanilla and eggs into olive oil.

As I peeled the Bramley apples, I had the same thought I always have when I do this: I thought of my Nan who baked several apple pies almost every Saturday for friends and family. she'd peel the apples using an ordinary knife and would always challenge herself to get the peel off in one long strip - no breaks. On the odd occasion when she did this, she'd pass the peel to one of us to throw in the air to see what letter formed - that would be the initial of our husband to be! (I've just googled this and found a few variations on this story here It would appear that it's wasn't just my Nan who did such things)

I can't peel anything using a knife and struggle to get the peel off in one go using a peeler, even. Perhaps apples these days don't have such tough skins? who knows... But today, I did it. For the first time I can remember, I managed to peel one of the three apples in one go. I threw it into the air and watched it fall and tried to interpret the letter on the kitchen floor just for old time's sake - a bit late to identify a husband!

I continued through the recipe, stirring in the apple mixture, folding in egg whites and poured the batter into the prepared tin. I thought that the instruction to level the top with a knife was a little superfluous since the runny batter needed no levelling at all and put it into the oven. As I gathered up the bowls for washing up I found the bowl of sifted flour, spices and baking powder!

I quickly opened the over door, poured out the mixture into the bowl again thinking how surprising just two minutes (or even less) in an oven starts the cooking process - quickly folded in the flour, greased a new tin and shot it back in the oven as quickly as I could.

We'll see how it turns out!

As for the letter on the floor - you'll have to go here to see.

Knitting a poem

My Grumpy chum alerted me to this series which is on Radio 4 several days this week - really great and worth a listen.