One of the hardest adjustments I am having to country life is that I don't see my dearest C as much as I used to. This is partly explained by the commute - but as it's only 20 minutes longer than it was in East Dulwich and he is often over an hour later than he used to be, it's not the whole story.
I expressed some frustration yesterday at the current state of events - he plays football Monday nights, so doesn't get back until after I'm in bed. He left early for work on Monday and Tuesday, so I was feeling a little single-parentish...
This morning he decided to stay behind a bit to see the kids and to help clean up the living room - we have just had all of our light fixtures put in, so there was a stack of packaging that needed to be taken out.
C's "helpfulness" this morning led to me uttering, for perhaps the first time in my life, the words "what on Earth possessed you?!?"
There was some polystyrene in the pile that C had let the kids destroy. There were little dots everywhere. He looked a bit bewildered at what destruction he had wrought. We eventually got it mostly cleaned up, but there are still little dabs clinging to the dog's ear, Itsyboo's sleepsuit and in my hair.
I have, however, learned my lesson, and will neither complain about not seeing enough of C nor allow him to tidy unsupervised ever again.
Wednesday, 27 March 2013
Sunday, 24 March 2013
Our new addition
Yesterday, the kids got a surprise that was better than birthdays and Christmas rolled into one. Coco arrived at our house.
Coco Doonbeg Dilnot
Coco is a ten year old Irish Water Spaniel, who loves long walks and tennis balls. She loves children, which is more than we can say for our other family pet.
I am the only child and pet you will ever need. Why do you insist on introducing others?
Pangur Ban is understandably disgusted that, in addition to having two small children, we now have a dog. She is currently haunting the upstairs of the house giving us dirty looks.
We had a great first day, going on a long walk across the fields, playing lots of ball and trying to stop Itsyboo from feeding all of his food to Coco (because it is apparently hilarious to give her toast and fish fingers).
Life here will clearly have its downsides for Coco, though. The endless rain has turned everything to mud and, for the foreseeable future, Coco will have to get hosed down after every single walk. We hope that this will be the worst thing that ever happens to her!
Wednesday, 13 March 2013
Gumbo!
*Hello? *taps microphone* Is anyone there?
Yes, it has been a very long time since I have blogged. I can't really think what I was doing in the last month that prevented me writing, but it was clearly very important. As an apology, I will give you the recipe for my slow cooker gumbo which turned out awesome.
The family is slowly adjusting to life in the countryside. We dealt with a surprise snow storm yesterday that, even more surprisingly, is mostly gone today. The playroom is slowly getting brighter and brighter as the layer of snowfall that blocked the light from the slides off an crashes to the ground in the slightly alarming ice-sheets.
The decoration is still not done, but we are settling into routines. Cleaners are nearly twice as expensive here as in London, so rather than pay someone almost £20 an hour I have been cleaning my own house. Shocking, I know. However much I used to complain about cleaning the house BC (before children), it was a doddle compared to my labours now, especially since Itsyboo feels compelled to mount the vacuum cleaner and ride it like a tiny cowboy any time I try to clean the floors.
A fabulous new butcher has opened on the Tonbridge high street, alleviating some of my longing for Lordship Lane's amenities. It was from this shop that I got the key ingredients for my awesome gumbo. Are you ready for the recipe now?
Slow cooker chicken and sausage gumbo
6 bone-in chicken thighs, skin removed (preferably free-range, organic)
4 tbs flour
4 tbs sunflower oil
packet of smoked sausage
medium onion, chopped
medium green bell pepper, chopped
two ribs celery, chopped
250g okra, chopped
4 garlic cloves, minced
400g tin tomatoes
500ml chicken stock
90 g brown shrimp (optional)
Preheat the oven to 200C. Pop your chicken thighs in for 30 mins.
Combine the flour and cooking oil in a small pan over a med low heat to make the roux. Cook, stirring constantly, until the roux is the colour of a pecan or a hazelnut (thanks to my actual Cajun friends for the reference!). Set aside.
Slice the sausage in 1cm rounds and brown.
Put the roux, sausage, onion, pepper, celery, okra, garlic and tomatoes in the slow cooker and stir well. Add the chicken thighs, nestling in to the vegetable mix. Pour chicken stock over the contents of the slow cooker. Add seasoning to taste - I didn't use any salt since I was serving this to the kids for lunch and the sausage gives it a moderate amount of seasoning.
Cover and cook on low 12 hours or overnight.
Remove chicken thighs and shred the meat, discarding the bones. Return the meat to the slow cooker and add brown shrimp if using. Give the contents of the slow cooker a good stir. Cook on low for another hour to heat through or until you are ready to eat (I let it go another three hours). The vegetables should be collapsing, the chicken and sausage meltingly tender. If not, let it cook a little longer.
Serve with long grain rice and a salad for a delicious meal.
Yes, it has been a very long time since I have blogged. I can't really think what I was doing in the last month that prevented me writing, but it was clearly very important. As an apology, I will give you the recipe for my slow cooker gumbo which turned out awesome.
Yum yum yum!
The family is slowly adjusting to life in the countryside. We dealt with a surprise snow storm yesterday that, even more surprisingly, is mostly gone today. The playroom is slowly getting brighter and brighter as the layer of snowfall that blocked the light from the slides off an crashes to the ground in the slightly alarming ice-sheets.
Winter is GOING, please?
The decoration is still not done, but we are settling into routines. Cleaners are nearly twice as expensive here as in London, so rather than pay someone almost £20 an hour I have been cleaning my own house. Shocking, I know. However much I used to complain about cleaning the house BC (before children), it was a doddle compared to my labours now, especially since Itsyboo feels compelled to mount the vacuum cleaner and ride it like a tiny cowboy any time I try to clean the floors.
A fabulous new butcher has opened on the Tonbridge high street, alleviating some of my longing for Lordship Lane's amenities. It was from this shop that I got the key ingredients for my awesome gumbo. Are you ready for the recipe now?
Slow cooker chicken and sausage gumbo
6 bone-in chicken thighs, skin removed (preferably free-range, organic)
4 tbs flour
4 tbs sunflower oil
packet of smoked sausage
medium onion, chopped
medium green bell pepper, chopped
two ribs celery, chopped
250g okra, chopped
4 garlic cloves, minced
400g tin tomatoes
500ml chicken stock
90 g brown shrimp (optional)
Preheat the oven to 200C. Pop your chicken thighs in for 30 mins.
Combine the flour and cooking oil in a small pan over a med low heat to make the roux. Cook, stirring constantly, until the roux is the colour of a pecan or a hazelnut (thanks to my actual Cajun friends for the reference!). Set aside.
Slice the sausage in 1cm rounds and brown.
Put the roux, sausage, onion, pepper, celery, okra, garlic and tomatoes in the slow cooker and stir well. Add the chicken thighs, nestling in to the vegetable mix. Pour chicken stock over the contents of the slow cooker. Add seasoning to taste - I didn't use any salt since I was serving this to the kids for lunch and the sausage gives it a moderate amount of seasoning.
Cover and cook on low 12 hours or overnight.
Remove chicken thighs and shred the meat, discarding the bones. Return the meat to the slow cooker and add brown shrimp if using. Give the contents of the slow cooker a good stir. Cook on low for another hour to heat through or until you are ready to eat (I let it go another three hours). The vegetables should be collapsing, the chicken and sausage meltingly tender. If not, let it cook a little longer.
Serve with long grain rice and a salad for a delicious meal.
Saturday, 9 February 2013
Winter is Coming (if you feel like waiting around for a while)
Season three of Game of Thrones is nearly upon us. I'm reasonably excited about the show, but far less so than season two. This is strange, because I love me some fantasy. It's been my favourite genre since I was small, and more than one person has accused me of secretly being a teenaged boy.
I pondered the reasons for a while - it used to be that a mere whisper of "Winter is Coming" would give me chills. I love the cast's performances. I love the sets and the costumes and the lighting. The directing is great. I know how the story is going to turn out (for the show, at least), so I mostly just appreciated the artistry of the show and seeing how they'd diverged from the original novels to make it accessible to television audiences.
But the urgency of my feelings about the series is gone. I realised that George R.R. Martin lost me with A Dance of Dragons and I'm not all that worried about when the next book will be out. I have lost a bit of interest in the conclusion. Partly it's the fact that I can't stand whipping myself into a frenzy given the general time gaps between books, but mostly, I have realised, I can't stand Daenerys.
It has always been reasonably clear that Cousin George (as we refer to him chez moi) is setting Daenerys Targayen up as the great heroine of Westeros. But I have always read her scenes feeling like I'm eating my way through a giant plate of brussels sprouts (my most hated vegetable) - theoretically it's good for me (or the story), but damn if I don't hate it.
And for those of you who want to tell me that brussels sprouts are delicious if you just cook them with a little butter and bacon, you are only confirming to me that no one actually likes brussels sprouts. Sand would taste delicious if you cooked it with enough butter and bacon.
So I find myself startled to realise that I really don't care when Winds of Winter comes out, and if Daenerys becomes queen of Westeros, then by God, I pity the people she rules. But she will most likely get distracted by someone she decides to save along the way and will eventually arrive in Westeros ten years too late when the White Walkers have already eaten everyone.
I am, however, waiting with bated breath for a few other sequels. I am on the verge of finding Brent Weeks' phone number and calling him weeping to let me know what happens in the next Lightbringer book. Does Liv have to break the halo to do what Koios wants her to do?!? I want to go hold Patrick Rothfuss' hand until he finishes the next Kingkiller book (metaphorically, obviously, since typing would be hard if I wouldn't let go of his hand). Why is Kvothe in such an enormous sulk?
The truth is, there are legions of great fiction writers out there, and while I enjoy Cousin George's writing, he's only one of the people you should be reading. Go out there, find some new authors and enjoy.
PS: I did read My Boyfriend Wrote a Book About Me. It was like hiding in a toilet stall while people outside gossip about someone you know. Dirty, but fun. I had to shower afterwards. And I know more about Chad's pubic hair than I ever wanted to.
I pondered the reasons for a while - it used to be that a mere whisper of "Winter is Coming" would give me chills. I love the cast's performances. I love the sets and the costumes and the lighting. The directing is great. I know how the story is going to turn out (for the show, at least), so I mostly just appreciated the artistry of the show and seeing how they'd diverged from the original novels to make it accessible to television audiences.
But the urgency of my feelings about the series is gone. I realised that George R.R. Martin lost me with A Dance of Dragons and I'm not all that worried about when the next book will be out. I have lost a bit of interest in the conclusion. Partly it's the fact that I can't stand whipping myself into a frenzy given the general time gaps between books, but mostly, I have realised, I can't stand Daenerys.
It has always been reasonably clear that Cousin George (as we refer to him chez moi) is setting Daenerys Targayen up as the great heroine of Westeros. But I have always read her scenes feeling like I'm eating my way through a giant plate of brussels sprouts (my most hated vegetable) - theoretically it's good for me (or the story), but damn if I don't hate it.
And for those of you who want to tell me that brussels sprouts are delicious if you just cook them with a little butter and bacon, you are only confirming to me that no one actually likes brussels sprouts. Sand would taste delicious if you cooked it with enough butter and bacon.
So I find myself startled to realise that I really don't care when Winds of Winter comes out, and if Daenerys becomes queen of Westeros, then by God, I pity the people she rules. But she will most likely get distracted by someone she decides to save along the way and will eventually arrive in Westeros ten years too late when the White Walkers have already eaten everyone.
I am, however, waiting with bated breath for a few other sequels. I am on the verge of finding Brent Weeks' phone number and calling him weeping to let me know what happens in the next Lightbringer book. Does Liv have to break the halo to do what Koios wants her to do?!? I want to go hold Patrick Rothfuss' hand until he finishes the next Kingkiller book (metaphorically, obviously, since typing would be hard if I wouldn't let go of his hand). Why is Kvothe in such an enormous sulk?
The truth is, there are legions of great fiction writers out there, and while I enjoy Cousin George's writing, he's only one of the people you should be reading. Go out there, find some new authors and enjoy.
PS: I did read My Boyfriend Wrote a Book About Me. It was like hiding in a toilet stall while people outside gossip about someone you know. Dirty, but fun. I had to shower afterwards. And I know more about Chad's pubic hair than I ever wanted to.
Saturday, 26 January 2013
What's my age again?
I keep having these moments where I realise that I am now properly grown up. I often forget (not deliberately) exactly how old I am, having settled in my mind simply on early 30s.
They included things like seeing someone who used to be part of my weekly pub quiz team take a role in national politics. The birth of my children. My tenth wedding anniversary. My mother's retirement. Hearing a friend from grad school on the Today Programme as a pundit. Finding out the title of the book I wanted to read referred to a guy I ate lunch with every day in high school.
They included things like seeing someone who used to be part of my weekly pub quiz team take a role in national politics. The birth of my children. My tenth wedding anniversary. My mother's retirement. Hearing a friend from grad school on the Today Programme as a pundit. Finding out the title of the book I wanted to read referred to a guy I ate lunch with every day in high school.
It is apparently not a very flattering portrait...
I heard about this book ages ago. And thought it would be a funny read. Then today, I read a piece in the NY Times that made the startling connection for me.
I was a smart kid and sat with other smart kids. You might even go so far as to say we were the nerd table. Except that I think there was at least one other table of equally smart kids who probably worked harder in school than we did. It is, however, hard to reconcile the teenager who drew a lot of muscle-bound superheroes in his notebooks with the author of Average American Male.
With added controversy for your reading pleasure!
But hey, we all grow up, don't we? It wasn't even the most surreal of those moments - the prize for which goes to someone who was talking about their polyamoury on facebook. I had a moment where I thought "he can't be polyamorous, he's only eight years old!" before I realised that the man in question had been eight years old at the same time I had been eight years old and had presumably aged at an identical rate.
The weirdest part of the article for me, though, was when they printed his age. "35?" I thought. "He can't be 35 because I'm only... aww crap."
Friday, 25 January 2013
The new supervillain in town
All is quiet in the house. Miss A is having calm quiet time in her room. Itsyboo, having slept a bit on the school run is resolutely not napping, but cooing away in his room. I am doing my lesson planning (clever me!). On the baby monitor, I hear a small crash. I pick it up to look, and the temperature in Itsyboo's room jumps from a balmy 20 degrees to 27. The heat alarm starts beeping frantically.
Our central heating is warming the house up, but not that much and not that quickly. There can be only one explanation.
Itsyboo is eating the baby monitor. It's only a half hour after lunch, so you'd think he would be satisfied. Two and a half fish fingers, four sweet potato "chips" and a handful of peas cannot sate the...
...BITINGEST BABY EVER.
Our central heating is warming the house up, but not that much and not that quickly. There can be only one explanation.
Itsyboo is eating the baby monitor. It's only a half hour after lunch, so you'd think he would be satisfied. Two and a half fish fingers, four sweet potato "chips" and a handful of peas cannot sate the...
...BITINGEST BABY EVER.
Yes, that's how he kisses. He made another baby cry today while showering him with affection.
Don't be fooled by the angelic face - this baby means biting business.
Coming soon to a playgroup near you! (If you live near Tonbridge, that is...)
Wednesday, 23 January 2013
It's my job
When we put the house on the market in August, I got in to some bad habits. Before then, I had planned activities very carefully for the three days a week I had Miss A. We had a rota of painting, baking and gardening that we did during Istyboo's morning nap. Istyboo mostly just needed interesting things to look at, so was pretty easy to keep entertained.
During the whole moving house process, my primary concern was keeping the house in reasonable shape for potential buyers. We often had viewings every day and evacuated the house at the weekends. I made the most of the fabulous East Dulwich infrastructure. We had the fabulous local parks (especially Goose Green, tiny but brilliant), the libraries, and playgroups, all within walking distance and all guaranteed to keep my house sparkling and tidy.
One of the advantages of the new house is the play room. I finally have a place where all the toys live. We do lots and lots of free play, so it normally looks like this:
Now that we are (mostly) settled in, I feel like I should start planning activities again. I like a plan and find it much easier to make a big mess if I've planned it out and made sure I've got all the necessary stuff. I have Miss A all but two mornings a week, so there's extra time to fill. Also, Itsyboo needs more stimulation these days and I'd like to make sure there are some age-appropriate activities for him.
I came to the conclusion that, as a stay-at-home mum, I should really be doing something akin to a weekly lesson plan. I've done lesson planning before, during the five summers I spent working at the amazing Concordia Language Villages (my kids are so going there when they are older).
During the whole moving house process, my primary concern was keeping the house in reasonable shape for potential buyers. We often had viewings every day and evacuated the house at the weekends. I made the most of the fabulous East Dulwich infrastructure. We had the fabulous local parks (especially Goose Green, tiny but brilliant), the libraries, and playgroups, all within walking distance and all guaranteed to keep my house sparkling and tidy.
One of the advantages of the new house is the play room. I finally have a place where all the toys live. We do lots and lots of free play, so it normally looks like this:
Why, yes, we do tidy up every evening. Why do you ask?
Now that we are (mostly) settled in, I feel like I should start planning activities again. I like a plan and find it much easier to make a big mess if I've planned it out and made sure I've got all the necessary stuff. I have Miss A all but two mornings a week, so there's extra time to fill. Also, Itsyboo needs more stimulation these days and I'd like to make sure there are some age-appropriate activities for him.
I came to the conclusion that, as a stay-at-home mum, I should really be doing something akin to a weekly lesson plan. I've done lesson planning before, during the five summers I spent working at the amazing Concordia Language Villages (my kids are so going there when they are older).
Mildly embarrassing photographic evidence here.
There are so many fabulous resources, too. My favourites are Imagination Tree, the Artful Parent, and Rainy Day Mum, but my twitter feed is constantly pointing me towards new ones.
So this week, my resolution is to start my weekly lesson planning. We will have fun!
What are your favourite at-home activities with your children? Are there any sources of inspiration that you'd recommend? I look forward to your tips!
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