The Need to Nurture

I had an accusation thrown at me yesterday.  Not for the first time and it certainly won’t be the last.  I have been accused of a secret desire to have children.  One to which I will eventually give in.  The evidence?  I want a puppy!

Trust me when I say that our decision to remain childfree was not made on a whim nor out of an aversion to hard work, bad smells etc.  We have done a great deal of soul searching over the years and are confident that this is the correct decision for us.  I have also been accused of being selfish.  Maybe this is true but I don’t necessarily consider it to be a bad thing.  Much better to be aware of my selfishness now than after the birth of a baby whom I would resent for changing my lifestyle.  Anyway, I do not consider myself to be in any way selfish with my time, money or love for family and friends.  I just enjoy the life I have and wish it to continue without having to sacrifice long term career, travel and lifestyle goals.  Children have just never figured into the equation for me and the more I think about why we should start a family, the more I am struck by paralysing fear and hundreds of reasons why not to do it.  Luckily both our parents have been accepting and understanding of our decision.  I am aware of other women and couples who are not so fortunate in this way.  Friends and siblings however, are harder to win over and can, at times, be downright hurtful in their comments and accusations.  Especially when we mention our plan to get a dog.

Carolyn Ray, in her wonderfully eloquent essay Enlightenment: The Shame of Not Wanting Children describes perfectly the feeling of “might like someday” vs “overwhelming desire”:

“I have considered what it would be like to have a very large house. Sometimes when I have lived in cramped quarters, the idea of 20 rooms with large closets creates a quiet longing in me. But when I think about my preferred lifestyle, my preferred career, etc., it is hard for me to justify having an apartment much bigger than the one I have, let alone own a house.
On the other hand, I want a dog very badly, and the fact that I cannot currently have one is torture for me (my apartment complex doesn't allow them). I think about dogs all the time. I can't wait to have one or two or three as my constant companions. I walk other people's dogs, and have thought about working as a trainer just to be near them.
The basic difference between my feelings about a large house and my feelings about a dog boils down to: "might be nice" versus "when will the misery end?" “

It interests me that dogs too are Ray’s ward of desire and fully understand her feelings.  S and I both had dogs growing up and somehow our current life does not feel complete without a canine companion.  We often go for long walks, in the hills or along the river, and just feel there is something missing.  If someone were to come up to me today and tell me that they have seen my future and I will never have the companionship of a dog, I would fall apart, utterly devastated.  If they were to tell me that there will be no children in my life, my reaction would be at best “meh” or more honestly, a resounding, “thank f**** for that”!  I have often been heard to remark, when confronted with a new puppy, that “this must be how normal women feel about babies”.  I can’t help it, someone passes me on the street with a dog in two and my heart physically aches because I don’t have one, someone gets on the bus with a dog and I must change seats to say hello to the animal.  Replace the dog in both situations with a child, and I will edge away with no desire to make contact.

And yet, I am continually being told that my brain is doing some kind of complex transference of feelings.  That my desire to look after a pet is a reflection of my true maternal instinct.  That I should suppress no longer and join the parenting club.  What worries me is that there may even be some truth in this.

S and I have often remarked that our biggest role models in life are certain friends and family members who are a little bit older and leading the lives we hope we can in 10-20 years.  This is something about which we had discussed without too much thought but when initially having the baby debate, it suddenly occurred to us that all the folk mentioned are childfree by choice.  An aunt and uncle on my side – have a lovely home, a dog and an active social life.  S’s uncle might be single but he has travelled extensively, read copiously, has interesting friends and hobbies and is a truly interesting person – he also has dogs.  My work colleague and her husband, again have travelled a lot and gone onto further study with good careers.   Several members of my book group, whether single or in couples again follow the pattern of travel, reading, studying, culture-loving people who have nice houses, secure incomes and interesting stories to tell.  Most have dogs, some have cats.  The only exception is my work colleague – she and her husband have plants!  They look after these plants to an almost obsessive (at least to my non-green fingered outlook) level and I have seen my colleague weep true tears of despair when a plant dies.  Carolyn Ray obviously feels the same way about our canine chums and I have seen overwhelming numbers of people commenting on other childfree blogs to the same effect, mentioning their love of dogs or other animals in that place in their heart we are expected to keep for human babies. 

The point is that we all seem to need something in our life which we can look after.  Something that depends on us and allows us to satisfy the need to nurture.  Friends will point to tales of adults who travel with a family of teddy bears, or feel the need to dress up their cats, declaring this to be a way of filling an otherwise empty, meaningless and childless life.  I don’t doubt that there are people who desperately wish to conceive a child and have never gotten over the grief of infertility, who turn to pets, plants or toys as a way of filling a very real void in their lives.  I wish I can say that my desire for a puppy is not a way of filling such a void but perhaps it is?  Maybe this is a very basic component of our genetic make-up, what makes us human or what simply makes us alive?  After all, we have all seen wildlife programmes and experiments where childless animals (often chimps) are given a doll or similar which they care for and protect as if it were a baby. 

But then there are those who want both – take my friend T for example; she has two clearly defined holes in her life, one in the shape of a baby, the other is a dog.  My parents must have has similar yearnings otherwise I wouldn’t have grown up with a canine sibling!  Perhaps then the yearnings are different, I am not taking the easy way out after all and I will never know how the child desire feels?   Maybe lots of people have a desire for a family pet but it only those of us without the “family” to go with it who stand out as oddly visible thus provoking a rush of questions and examination of our feelings and motives?

I don’t have any answers to this but am hoping to inspire debate with intelligent comments and insights from both sides of the fence (please, no haters).  There must also be someone out their who does not desire children but also has no plans for pets, cannot keep a houseplant alive and does not own a collection of ragdolls or teddy bears! 

Flippin' 'Eck!

Shrove Tuesday, Fat Tuesday, Mardi Gras…  Whatever you want to call it, Pancake Day is upon us at last!  There are few foods in life better than a pancake.  Three simple ingredients, minimal effort but can lead to worlds of glorious flavour combinations – sweet or savoury!

I have already mentioned my wonderful grandmother in this blog, who taught me so much about life and love.  I wish I could say my love of cooking came from her.  Sadly she was no great shakes in the kitchen.  In fact, her cooking was atrocious with one exception – pancakes!  Not the delicate crepes or indulgent American varieties that dominate our mardi gras nowadays but podgy little scotch pancakes, cooked on a massive girdle over the hob.  Yes, for the non-Scots out there, I do mean girdle.  A girdle is a Scottish griddle man or bakestone – like this one and Grandma didn’t need a particular day of the year or religious belief to bring it from the bottom shelf in the larder.  I can still remember the mouthwatering anticipation when the girdle was produced.  I used to love helping make the pancakes, dropping perfect rounds of batter onto the greased pan and watching them colour.  We would eat them hot, straight from the girdle, slathered in butter or cold with a good dollop of homemade raspberry jam. 

These days, I tend to favour the French style crepes – at least for Shrove Tuesday.  My recipe comes from my mother’s old Good Housekeeping book – a true kitchen antique if ever there was one.  I remember how amazed she was when I insisted on keeping it when she was going to toss it.  It’s old, worn, stained with over a century’s worth of spills and splashes – but it is my go to guide for all the old fashioned puddings and traditional British dishes.  It was, as I said, my mum’s but I think even she picked it up at a fair age in a charity shop – the publication date is before she was born! 

My cookery bible gives the following recipe for pancake batter:

4oz flour

½ pint milk

1 egg

¼ tsp salt (I don’t tend to add this).

Mix in a food processor (ok, the recipe says beat with a wooden spoon) and leave to rest for at least 30 mins before giving a final stir just before starting the cooking process.  Mum would always make the batter in the morning and leave to rest all day until teatime.  The recipe suggests heating lard until bubbling in a frying pan, I follow mum’s method of swirling a dab of butter in a non-stick pan before adding the batter one pancake’s worth at a time.  When it starts to show pits and bubbles, it is time to flip!  The above recipe yields around 10 pancakes depending on thickness.

I had, in anticipation, lined up the potential toppings, ready to do their duty.  In the end only the maple syrup lived to fight another day.  S, who has a seriously sweet tooth, slathered 3 pancakes in nutella and filled two with a banana/nutella combo.  I had 2 x classic sugar and lemon, 2 x nutella and 1 x nutella and banana.  Don’t judge me – it’s the one day of the year we can feast like pigs!

Pancakes are for life, not just for Shrove Tuesday and they do occasionally make an appearance as dessert or lunch at other times of the year.  I thought I would take the opportunity to share with you my top ten pancake dishes

1.                  Lemon and sugar.   There’s a reason classics are so called and this is seriously hard to beat. 

2.                  Nutella.  I was introduced to nutella late in life after having spent my childhood maintaining that it looked yuck.  Big mistake.  I became addicted quickly.  I am allowed to buy one small jar a year for the purposes of Shrove Tuesday only.  Without this routine I would happily sit in pyjamas all day everyday, eating nutella from the jar with my fingers.

3.                  Nutella and banana.  See above but with a healthy addition!

4.                  Banana flambé pancakes.  Wrap a banana in a warm crepe.  Pour over the liqueur of your choice – dark rum is good, kahlua is better!  Flambé and serve warm with a spoonful of Chantilly cream.  Heaven!

5.                  Banana pancakes.  Not to be confused with the above banana variations, this involves blitzing ripe bananas with the batter mix (3-4 bananas is perfect for the above batter quantity) and cooking small thick scotch pancake or drop-scone like rounds with a slightly squidgy banana flavoured centre.  Good hot or cold spread with butter.  Better warm and topped with toffee sauce. 

6.                  Maple Syrup and Ice Cream.   A la Pancake Place.  This was my favourite childhood indulgence but I am sorry to say, it’s too sickly sweet for me to contemplate these days. 

7.                  Maple Syrup and Bacon.  When I first went to the USA as an 11 year old, I was both shocked and intrigued by the breakfast options but they have it so very right.  The bacon has to be perfectly crisp and salty to be complemented by the sweet syrup, all presented on a fluffy pancake base.  Clogged arteries have never tasted so good!

8.                  Cheese and mushroom.  Classic savoury version and a quick and tasty lunch.

9.                  Cheese, mushroom, egg and tomato.  More indulgent version of the above.  Bacon is also an optional extra. 

10.              Jam and cream.  Who says it’s just for scones!

Mad March Hair

How hard can it be to find a good hairdresser?  I used to have a great stylist who listened to my wants and needs and gave my great looking, easy to style at home hair.  Then she left the salon.  Her replacement did a good job but I didn’t really gel with her.  It was a fairly expensive salon and as S and I were trying to watch the pennies, it seemed a good idea to try shopping around.  The last straw came on my third visit to the replacement stylist when, after not even having had my presence acknowledged when she came over and started grumpily cutting my locks, I tried to make conversation by commenting something innocuous along the lines of “town seems busy today, doesn’t it?”.  She responded by walking off, only to return with a bundle of magazines which she dumped on my lap, telling me that these would keep me occupied whist she concentrates of the hair!  So I had to concede that my £50 wasn’t being well spent on customer service and really seemed excessive anyway for, what I thought, was a simple cut and blow-dry.  Thus began the search for a hairdresser, who would (a) do a good job; (b) be nice and (c) cost less than £35.00 .  It has been two years.  In these two years I have experienced disaster after disaster.  These include:

• The realisation that hair straighteners are not standard salon equipment.  One salon told me that they are too expensive to buy.  Unfortunately my hair tends to be quite frizzy – there are ways to dry it into soft frizz-free curls, which is good.  Attempting to make it straight without the aid of straighteners does not work.  I know this.  Why couldn’t they see it, or at least not wait until my hair was a bushy mess before dropping the non-straightner bombshell.

• Apparently conditioner is also too expensive for some saloons to keep in stock.

• The stylist who “got hungry” in the middle of doing my hair, went off to the shop down the road to get a bar of chocolate, having dried one side of my head nicely.  During this hiatus, the other side dried of its own accord – frizz central.  Upon returning, she remarked there was noting she could do about that now and sent me off like the half-man half-woman ladyboy act.

• The stylist who gave me a 45 minute appointment and as soon as this was up – to the very second – announced that my appointment was over – despite the fact she hadn’t finished cutting my hair!! 

• The “Senior Stylist” fro whom I had paid extra, having a friend come in to show off her new baby and handing me over to the junior member of staff to do most of the styling whilst she chatted for 35 minutes.  I wasn’t given a reduction on the appointment cost.

Not once in the past 24 months have I come away from a saloon actually feeling happy with my hair.  This has resulted in my leaving longer than usual between appointments, whilst I try to find the next place to try and my hair has grown far longer than I am comfortable.  And each time, no matter how upset I have been, I have smiled and paid up like a fool. 

Today, I really thought it would be different.  The salon looked nice and the big selling point was 50% off on the first visit.  Nevertheless I scoped it out before booking.  They had straighteners (GHDs no less!), the staff had modern but not stupid haircuts, people were smiling and leaving with nice hair!  I was actually looking forward to my visit and spent the morning pampering myself in anticipation.

Upon entering, I was greeting with a warm smile (good!) and asked if I would like a tea or coffee (very good!), having asked for a black tea, I was a bit disappointed when a black coffee arrived.  I can’t drink black coffee.  Mistakes happen however so I tentatively ventured an “I’m sorry about this but it was tea I had asked for”.  Only to be told in no uncertain terms that I did not (very bad).  Yes, that’s right, I’m in the habit of requesting a drink I find vile and even if I had slipped up, what happened to the customer is always right or service with a smile? 

After the drink debacle, I was left waiting 15 minutes past the time the appointment should have started.  Not good but I had nothing planned so didn’t really mind – after all, workplaces get busy and I would rather someone else wasn’t ejected before being finished the way I had previously.  Eventually I was taken to be washed.  The girl who washed my hair was friendly and gave a truly excellent head massage whilst applying the conditioner (very good!)  I was just drifting off and enjoying the salon’s choice of music when I was sadly jolted back to reality by the arrival of the stylist who would be cutting my hair.  This was where things went downhill fast.  At no point did she ask what I wanted done – just started cutting, and not cutting very much at all.  When I did muster up the courage to say, “er, sorry but I was kind of hoping, you know, maybe, for a few inches taken off” she seemed genuinely puzzled, telling me that I don’t have many split ends so I don’t need much cut away at all.

 “Yes”, I ventured, “but I don’t really like the length and was hoping it could be shorter”

“No, it looks fine and you don’t need it”

“But I want it”

“But you don’t need it”

And so on it went until, inevitably, I paid up for the “service”, mentally cursing myself and went about the rest of my day under a black cloud of grump. 

Had I been given an opportunity to explain, I would have mentioned that I either like to wear my hear naturally curly or sleek and straight so layers are needed to give shape to the curls, otherwise I end up with triangle head.  Apart from that, I feel I am getting a bit too old for long hair and prefer a just below chin length style with not too much hair falling around my face – gets in the way when I am cooking.  I have the opposite to all this and most annoyingly, so little was cut that I look exactly the same as I did when I went in – the look I wanted to have changed! 

I had planned an afternoon of shopping, but every time I caught sight of myself in a mirror I just wanted to burst into tears.  And that made me mad at myself for getting so angry over something so self-obsessive and trivial.  Hair will grow back or can be cut again, it doesn’t matter.  But it does matter.  And the money matters.  It matters a lot – I feel like I have just been throwing bundles of £0 notes down the drain over the past few years.  So I think I need to explain to S that I have to start going to expensive salons again – or at least give one a try to see if it makes me happier.  £50 every 3-4 months is better than £35 in have that time because I am unhappy or the style hasn’t lasted. 

And my hair now?  Well, upon coming home I almost did the unthinkable and got out the kitchen scissors.  Don’t worry, I stopped myself just in time.  Then I nearly called a very expensive salon to see if they could see me today, before I shook myself out of it and realised it’s not a hideous cut.  Just not what I wanted.  And far far too long for my liking.  That said, I’m going to give it a few days, try washing and styling myself and see how it goes.  If I am still as upset, I will make that other appointment before going on holiday at the end of the month. 

Lavender Blue (dilly dilly)

Today, I had planned a luxurious girlie day all to myself, which is being topped off with dinner at my sister’s house so no need to cook, clean or anything else boring.  To get myself in the mood, I had a steamy shower and slathered myself in lavender products.

I adore lavender.  It looks so pretty and smells incredible – fresh, feminine, floral and clean.  Most of all it reminds me of my grandmother, who was one of my closest friends and strongest inspirations in life.  A truly remarkable woman, I treasured every moment with her and although this month will mark four years since she passed, I still have to stop myself from instinctively calling her up from time to time, forgetting she is no longer around.  The scent of lavender evokes strong and happy memories of grandma – she was never without a bottle of lavender “toilet water” and used to dab lavender oil onto cotton handkerchiefs which she would inhale or let flutter around to let the scent permeate the air.  I was intoxicated and addicted to the scent even before grandma dies and my usage became a way of keeping her memory close to me.   Funnily enough, she once told me that the reason she herself was such a lavender-addict (lavendict?) was due to the influence of her own step-mother.  Grandma’s birth mother had died whilst she was still very young and her father remarried after a time, shortly producing a younger sister.  Grandma was unsure of how to take to the new mother (and she was “mother” – it was forbidden to refer to her as step-mother or allude to the fact that there had been a previous wife) and family arrangement until one day her mother took her shopping – just the two of them as a kind of bonding experience.  Grandma had not been around many women up until then, and those she did now were calloused old fishwives) so she was amazed be her new mother’s clothes, jewellery and beauty regime.  Particularly her habit of sprinkling lavender oil onto a clean white handkerchief.  During the shopping trip, she asked why she did this and her mother replied that no matter what troubles surround you, a breath of lavender would always reassure her of the beauty in the world.  She then purchased for grandma as a gift, her own bottle of lavender oil and new handkerchiefs and impressed on her that she was not a child but a young woman.  From then on, not only were they firm friends with a good mother/daughter relationship but grandma kept the lavender tradition ongoing every day of her life. 

Now I have inherited this family trait.  Well, not quite – I don’t do the hanky thing (not yet anyway) but I use a lavender perfume as my everyday perfume (evenings and occasions are scented with Marc Jacob’s Daisy) and have dried sprigs of the flower perfuming my drawers and wardrobe.  S understand the emotional ties but can’t quite get his head around the fact that it is a scent from grannies and keeps telling me how I am too young to wear it just yet.  He draws the line at my plan to hang sprigs from doorknobs but has conceded that when we eventually move and have a garden, I can have a lavender bed – which I look forward to being populated by busy bees and butterflies!  I also plan to try cooking with the flower this summer - inspired mainly by Mat Follas' Masterchef winning white chocolate and lavender mousse.

Luckily, such is the current trend for pretty china teacups, floral dresses and chintz, lavender toiletries are becoming more and more common on the high street so I was surprised and delighted to receive from S this past Christmas a gorgeous package of Arran Aromatics lavender products.  I have been keeping them for a day like today and since the sun is shining and it truly feels like spring is underway, I have enjoyed pampering my body and mind with these wonderful products. 

All About Me

Well hello there and welcome to my blog.  Have a seat, get comfortable and make yourself at home.  Hopefully this is the beginning of a wonderful friendship…

Let me tell you a bit about myself…

I am a Scottish (wah-hey!) woman, living in Edinburgh.  I’m really lucky to live in such a wonderful city and am sure I would have found my way here eventually, even if I hadn’t been born here.  I spent a brief period in my early twenties living and working abroad but having met the love of my life at a much earlier age than expected, I just couldn’t stay away from him and ended up returning to Edinburgh where we set up home together and eventually married in 2007. 

Blogging has been on my mind for a while.  In truth I’ve always harboured fantasies about having regular newspaper or magazine column – you know, those women that get paid for writing about their lives, loves and opinions on the world each week.  Given that I never pursued my dream of becoming either a travel writer or a food critic, I think it’s safe to say that neither the Guardian nor even the Scotsman is going to come knocking on my door for hilarious anecdotes or worldly views any time soon.  So blogging it is then!  But what to blog about?  There are a lot of experts out there in cyberspace who tell me that a blog must have a theme and should stick to one subject only.  Food blogs should be about food only, travel blogs likewise… What to choose? Who am I?  What do I do?

Food!  I love cooking and love eating even more.  I love watching cookery programmes, reading cookery books and in the spirit of the most passionate Masterchef contestant, I think about food constantly; always considering ingredients and recipes and I just love feeding friends and family and seeing that look on their face when I know I have hit a flavour combination just right!  I don’t want to just talk about food though.  Aside from anything else, I’ve usually halfway through dinner before I remember that I meant to take a photo of the impressive looking dish.  Plus, there are so many great food blogs out there.  Can I really compete with the likes of the wonderful Kavey Eats or Bon Apetit?

Travel!  I love going places and experiencing new things.  Well, going places and eating new things mainly…  Problem is, I haven’t travelled particularly extensively despite an ever growing must-go list.  We live on a bit of a budget; both get limited holidays from work and the clincher – my parents retired abroad.  Great decision for them.  Means that my choice of holiday destination is now somewhat limited though. 

I’m a film geek!  That’s right.  I’m not ashamed to admit it.  I love film and hubby and I are regularly greeted by staff at the local cinema as if we are old friends.  Yep, if the cinema were a bar in Boston, we would be Norm.  I love most films apart from really scary ones and rom coms.  Unfortunately this makes me somewhat of a pariah amongst fellow female friends.  Knowing how many films I watch, they are constantly trying to get my opinion on the latest Katherine Heigl/Matthew MCaughney/Kate Hudson love fest with the fabulous shoes and oh so cute ickle baby…  They don’t understand when I would rather talk about Almodovar’s vintage work or the sheer awesomeness of the latest comic book adaptation/Frank Miller effort etc.  So could I use my blog to review films?  Well, I may certainly enthuse about a movie I have loved but it’s a rather restrictive topic really, and I don’t want to turn my cinema trips into a chore by feeling that I have to blog after each and every film.

What about books?  I read a lot but not always new titles so not sure if there is an audience out there.  Also, I am already in a bookgroup so have space to share opinions on most of my reading material.

Music is good.  It makes, so a wise woman once said, the people come together.  Personally I listen to anything from hard rock to jazz with a bit of classical thrown in.  My tastes are eclectic and I love discovering new bands.  Can’t really see a blog being shaped around all this though…

Families feature heavily in a lot of blogs.  Personally OH and I are child free.  This is a conscious decision and contrary to popular belief, not one that was taken lightly.  A great deal of the thoughts swirling around my head on any given day tend to revolve around this issue and it is one I am constantly being asked to defend.  Yes, the childfree stance on life may be a regular feature of my blog but I don’t want to restrict my writings to just that.  There are already great blogs out there on this topic, such as Childfree Me and I don’t necessarily want to reinvent the wheel.  Neither do I want to set this out as the very essence of my being and the most interesting thing about me.  Above all I don’t want to attract haters.  I know you can’t please all the people all of the time but I feel us childfree women (never the men) attract a lot of bad press by those who don’t understand our views and I want this blog to be, well, a nicer place than that!

Life is an ongoing struggle.  OH and I live on a tight budget.  We would like nothing better than to move to a bigger, nicer house or even have the money to make our little flat look and feel a bit more homely but with ever rising prices, we are finding things tough.  It certainly doesn’t allow us to travel to the places we want to see or even be able to feast on the food we would like but we are doing our best to get by with the hand which we have been dealt.  Living on a budget could be a good blog theme – it would certainly encompass all the above aspects of our daily life – what we eat, how we travel frugally etc but then, that just brings me back to talking about general life with a bit of all the above elements thrown in from time to time.  Yes, a bit like those magazine columnists really! 

So I guess I’m going to be telling you more about my life and habitual musings.

So, now you have gotten to know a bit about me, I hope you will continue to read and interact with my rambling streams of thought.  Perhaps you will recognise bits of your own life, thirty-something or not. 

Welcome to the world of blog!