Like Water...

Thought for the day...

A parent always hopes that, like water, their children will eventually find their own way and even when sometimes they appear lost to themselves as well as to others, the faith holds that the river runs deep; sometimes it just takes a while for the banks to be rebuilt and for flora and fauna to take root, regrow and blossom...

Wanted one new car to Bond with careful owner...

The day of reckoning looks as though it has finally come for my dear old Cabriolet.  We've been together for eight years, and spent many happy hours meandering through country lanes in search of the creative muse or powering up hills to watch the sun go down, or chasing dreams in quaint little places like Lulworth Cove or Moonfleet.  It has served me well, been to numerous concerts, picnics, arts events, weddings, funerals and celebrations.  BUT today after the MOT report, things could be better.  So although I am not a petrol head, I am on the hunt for another newer model of a Cabriolet, maybe with a tin top opening.   I feel somewhat disloyal that I am already considering a replacement, but seeing as monogamy and motors are not a match made in heaven, then I see no future in patching it up.

Funny how when things feel terminal we can compartmentalise; relationships are worth 'patching' up, motors are not; illnesses are, unless of course you're an animal and then maybe not (although I tried every form of revival with our family pets before making final decisions); favourite dress is, ripped jeans are not.   Many would say, 'it's a car, get over it' but it is not that easy. there is history between us.  Parts of it work absolutely fine and the engine is as sweet as a soft embracing psalm (were those lyrics in a song?),  but it is the bodywork that is starting to go (bit like me... absolutely hunky dory on the inside with everything working when it needs to, but could benefit from some exterior renovation).

Oh well, it is quite possible that I will know before the end of the day, but the search begins in earnest...

My Cup runneth over

I have always believed that people should only be with me if they really want to, not because they feel they have to.  So I felt exceptionally blessed this Mother's day when my daughter visited twice in one weekend.  

This week saw the newspapers filled with the sad news of two lives cut short before their time, leaving in their shadows several fragile youths having to come to terms with the death and loss of a parent.  Every day I count my blessings that I lived long enough to know that my daughter is her own woman and she will survive and blossom whatever life throws in her path.  A mother can never say her job is done, by the very nature of the role it is in fact one of the few jobs for life, but we can aspire to reaching the basic platform that will provide an individual with as many skills for the next stage of the great expedition as possible.  For me, motherhood is all about having the courage to be your child's conscience when their fails and employing the wisdom to bare silence when a tirade is deserved but above all it is about providing the safety net when they fall and need encouragement to dust themselves off and try again before celebrating from the shadows when they succeed, for they will if they keep trying.  Motherhood is that constant spinning circle which frequently tests not only who they are, but who we have become.  Without wanting to sound too sentimental, I feel blessed my daughter was born to me, through all the hardships and difficulties, the joy and the tears... for she is her own woman and I feel privileged to still feature in her life.....

And another day dawns

Reborn, re-earthed and ready to catch up with a good friend, the tribulations of yesterday are but a mist of smudged 

memories.

I met up with dear Gilli the editor of Muse mag and we chewed over the fat, or not, as we chose to pop along to the delightful new cafe called Pick more Daisies.  It does not pretend to be vegetarian as it also offers some tempting meat dishes, but the vegetarian options are too good to pass on.  The theme of this tiny cafe, which cannot serve more than 36 covers in one sitting, is distressed Kitch with a real, if not slightly hippy feel to it.   The Decor is a cool white interior with sign written motto's, sayings and announcements on the walls.  Everything is spotless which blends perfectly with the red and white ornaments, pots and Nick knacks dotted around, all of which are for sale.  Scandinavian simplicity dominates in the use of gingham's, stripes and spotted fabrics, embellished with applique hearts and flowers. The food however is a completely different matter.  

The choice was made all the more difficult by the wonderful array of 'tarts' on offer.  Savory tarts with melting mouth watering fillings blended with a selection of seasonings worthy of a Michelin chef and the presentation was stunningly simply, yet appetising and delightful.  The whole layout of this little gem reminds me of some of the veggie cafes in Bristol in Clifton Village or along the walls, down by St. Batholomew's.

For the starter I chose a five fruit, freshly juiced drink, consisting of Bramley apple, pineapple,   fresh lemon, carrot and celery, the meld of flavours and quantities perfectly blended to create a naturally sweet refreshing drink.  Gilli ordered the watercress, broccoli and celery soup with bread and croutons.  As I am on a diet and Gilli was full after her soup, on recommendation from the waitress, we shared a slice of savory nut and carrot pie with a hint of curry served with a bowl of salad.  I adore pies and tarts in almost any guise and have tasted most combinations and concocted many original mixes of ingredients, but I can honestly say with hand on appliqued heart that this was an award winning pie of orgasmic gravitas.  Never in all my born days have I tasted anything like this.  The appeal and the pull is like that from a chapter of the novel Chocolat, for it was the waitress who recommended it to me after some reflection, the perfect match between diner and dish!

After the Luscombe farm lemon and Elderflower juice, we both vowed to revisit this little tucked away gem as often as the LBS would allow.

I asked for the recipe but was informed it was being kept a secret until the launch of their cookbook.  So until then I am going to try and replicate the quantity, blend and mix of the filling.  I suspect there will be many disappointments but plenty of excuses to revisit in an attempt to determine the recipe.

Sam is due to visit in April for a few culinary days and more than a few alcoholic nights - the champagne is on ice as I type -  but this will definitely be on the places of interest to visit. 

I may just get withdrawal symptoms and have to visit with notebook and pen beside me to record the ingredients through dissection.

No means No

In danger of ending up like a female Victor Meldrew, yesterday was one of those days when I could have chanted hourly...'I don't believe it'.  

Is it just me or are people today programmed to challenge absolutely EVERYTHING?  There was a time when 'No that isn't possible' followed by an explanation as to why that isn't possible, meant 'NO THAT ISN'T POSSIBLE', not 'Well I don't like that answer so I'll go to someone else until I get an answer I like'.  Attitude?  Everyone is hustling and hassling.  Is it just the current climate of uncertainty or has the new generation been born with a new gene called 'Chall engger Every thingoso'? 

Yesterday my energy was zapped by just clearing up the wake of tidal wave of misinformation that was casually released by someone before they engaged their brain.  There is a business plan and a process in place to ensure a fair and due process is in place to protect EVERYONE. PFhhh Honestly....  Rant over... I am off to boil my head...

More photos

Upton Country House...

Somewhere to rest awhile...