Snake in the house

I’ve got to get a grip on myself.   In a moment of boldness I have allowed my son to get a corn snake.  We have planned this carefully, done all the research, even devoted a corner of the freezer to dead mice of varying sizes and horrific names (pinkies, fuzzies).  Logically, I know it’s ok for this creature to be in the house, but somehow a legless reptile in the house, safely behind glass as he is, gives me the raging heeby-jeebies.  It takes nearly all my self control to stop me dashing from the room when the snake moves near me, nearly as much as it takes me not to pinch the remnants of the childrens’ Easter eggs. I am trying to be brave about all this for the boy, who is inexperienced with snakes and could use some adult general confidence to help him get started.  Fortunately his dad is remarkably sanguine about the whole thing (mercifully keeping quiet about my daft indulgences vis-a-vis the children and pets), and is turning into a more reliable snake handler than I am.  At least he cleaned up when the snake shat on our bed.

Meanwhile, the snake and I eye one another warily whenever I peer into the vivarium.  From my point of view, he appears to have all the aces up his sleeve – reptilian cunning, great skin, sinuous movement and prejudice against him.  I suppose he’s not thinking much, with a brain possibly the size of a petit-pois, other than that I am big and potentially threatening.   Rationalizing it all is not helping me much at the moment.

And now to the point of all this: getting a grip.  The nice reptile rescuer who matched us with our snake explained that when handling the snake, we shouldn’t grip hard but support gently.  Experience tells me that the more I practice a thing, the better I get at it, supporting myself.  Fear is sometimes rational, but more often is the hanging on to a prior notion, and can be worn down by familiarity, repetition and laughter.  So, having committed to this thing, I’d better stick at it, and be glad that so far the snake hasn’t headed off to dine on my daughter’s cute new gerbils.

Recurring themes

I am about to make a public volte face with regard to my feelings towards Facebook.  Despite sustaining a deep urge to turn every event in my life into a status update-worthy soundbite, I now regard the whole set-up with something approaching awe and wonder.

As more people are online, having become “Facebook friends” with their immediate circle, they must all be thinking (as I am):  “What happened to so&so?”  Motives for doing this are many and various, from the genuinely concerned to the slightly more vicious (me too!).  However, the long-term result of this is that genuine friendships that had expired for genuine/circumstantial reasons have been rekindled.  This leads me to the awe-and-wonder part, where I seem to be existing in many of my own time zones simultaneously… and I never was any good at physics.

The most recent provocation of this sense has come from seeing pictures of the horses, stables and people from where I first learnt to ride.  As I am in none of these pictures, I can’t have figured heavily in these other people’s pasts, but seeing them transported me back vividly to my own childhood.  And funnily enough, many of the old friends I have encountered on Web2 share the equine connection!

Straight from the horse’s mouth.

I write this with the sound of hoofbeats still echoing through my body.

There was a joyous half-term with 3, yes 3 rides (a lesson, a great hack, a gentle schooling session) on one pony,  and  the feeling of getting a genuine connection with an equine.  Following hard on its heels came last week, when the share agreement came to a somewhat abrupt end.

However, with some renewed confidence in my ability as a rider, I headed off to a local show to borrow someone else’s horse, a 16.3hh IDxTB.  After only just clapping eyes on him, we managed to jump in four classes with no fences down – he was a total star.  Not only was the riding good, I met some other local horse-owners, one of which has kindly offered me a ride on her three horses!

One is a pony mare who is very pretty, bags of star quality, still needs some schooling; another is a true “wonder pony” – twenty-something and still going strong.  The third is responsible for the echoing hoofbeats in my soul – an ex-racer, who gave me the most sublime gallop up a field about 10 minutes away from where I live.

Fingers crossed that this one works out – their owner is lovely, welcoming and generous with her horses.

No pictures of these horses as yet, but will work on that for next time.  In the meantime, it gives me a chance to fondly remember Merlin!

Comments on the detail.

Well, there it is, May has all but disappeared and hardly a squeak from me on the blog. And maybe some of us are disappointed at that. Never mind, it’s now half term week which means that I can wax lyrical about the joys of teachers’ holidays, unruly wine, slow food and fine kids (did I get those adjectives muddled? I got distracted by having to hiss through the window at the local tabby cat who has taken to piddling acridly in our alleyway).

In the meantime, I’ve done coursework moderation, faculty improvement planning, student teacher mentoring, and a little light teaching at work. On the home front, we are planning the next great building onslaught and hopefully getting a puppy now that Theo is 3 and verging on being house trained.

The biggest news is that Florence has had the chicken pox. We counted 34 spots at the height of the outbreak. She was very brave, but was a little surprised that we were so pleased she had it until we explained that she would only get it the once! Fingers crossed that Theo is so stoical, although despite being under the weather there are no spots to be seen.

Hoorah for all that. As it has stopped raining for five minutes, my thoughts have turned to my favourite salad – carrot and cashew nut – from “The Best of Lord Krishna’s Cuisine”. Toast a generous handful of whole cashews under the grill while peeling and grating a large carrot. Finely chop half a red pepper. Put all these ingredients in a pretty/utilitarian bowl and sprinkle lightly with salt. In a frying pan, heat one tablespoon of sunflower oil and fry one teaspoon of mustard seeds until they start to darken and pop. Add this to the salad bowl, along with 2 tablespoons of plain yoghurt. Stir it all in gently and serve with your favourite curry.

It’s got pictures!

At long last, the blog has pictures… although the Easyshare software is only easy on its own damn terms. Never mind.
It has taken less time to complete the first scarf and I am now on to the matching handbag. It must be a good scarf as Florence has promptly appropriated it and wore it to school today. She will surely be glad to pose for a photo with the new neckware, so expect that soon.

By the way, this is the best photo I could find of myself, taken in 1992. Getting in front of a camera too often is a habit left to small cute kids (like mine). Another blast from the past today – Treacle the cat is back home while his adoptive mum Jude is in Australia and other far-flung zones. It’s nice to have the furry chap back, as long as he doesn’t expect the same five star luxury treatment here that he is accustomed to getting at Jude’s!

Howling gale

This evening I am glad not to be a horse owner, as there is no equine chum to angst over in the excitement of rain and high winds. It is a good evening however to catch up on paperwork, eat hot soup in front of the fire, read emails, bimble about on the web and watch the rerun of The Sopranos series six.

I am also glad to report that the scarf is coming on apace. Fortunately I chose lumpy wool which disguises the clumsy stitches – surely this glitch will be overcome before I set out on my Christmas list. Thanks for the responses so far: it may be advisable to state your colour preference as for some strange reason I gravitated to the hippiest (not hippest) multicoloured yarn available in the sale box. If you want a hand knitted lentil bake instead, please also let me know and I’ll see what I can come up with.

Despite Sally’s best efforts to get me reading all sorts of trashy magazines (successful!), I have gravitated back to Lord of the Rings. Yes, very sad but after the cut and thrust of the films, the book starts with a more meandering approach which suits my frame of mind at the moment. Fortunately the time out with the magazines has reawakend the good consumer in me as opposed to the good hobbit.

New do’s

Half term is here at last, and despite it being only a few weeks since the last school break I really feel in need of this one. We are going away and with lots to do I’m coming down with a cold, just as everyone else has shaken theirs off, consequently the last few days has been fuelled by Lemsip and anaesthetic throat sweets. With a view to the holiday, both Flo and Theo have had haircuts. Theo finds the whole thing rather traumatic, sobbing and wailing most disconsolately throughout. Lyn the hairdresser is mostly unfazed, in much the same way as when she is clipping a stroppy horse. It was this quality in her that made me think she’d be the person to do the kids’ hair, and with this in mind I never asked her to clip Merlin’s (my old horse) winter coat – he would have squashed her against a wall or convenient hard place. Mercifully, Theo didn’t squash Lyn, merely deafening her and he recovered quickly enough to demolish half a packet of chocolate fingers in record time. While he was doing so, Flo had hopped into the chair and was busy regaling Lyn with tales of just how much ice-cream she is going to eat on holiday. So, the pair of them will at least be able to see the marvels of Barca unimpeded by excess hair.
Yesterday demanded solid food with lots of nutrition, and not much effort, hence fish stew with rice and broccoli. The fish stew can either be a great store cupboard staple meal or something rather more extravagant if the situation requires. You need to fry down some red peppers (put these in first) and leeks until starting to brown, I usually do this in the oil from the fish (2 tins of either mackerel, sild, skippers, sardines, tuna or any combination of these) but remember to open the window first. Once the veg are browning, add one or two sticks of chopped celery and the fish, plus one tin of chopped tomatoes rinsed thoroughly with red wine. At this point, finely chop 2 or 3 sundried tomatoes and stir in. This dish really benefits from a decent size bayleaf, a pinch of mixed herbs and a smidge of stock. Once it’s started to boil, grate in one carrot, stir again, put the lid on and simmer gently for about 30 minutes, stirring once again about half way through. Adjust liquid content as necessary towards the end of the cooking time, and re-season if necessary. I find the stew does not need much extra salt, especially if you use the fish oil and/or smoked fish. Serve with basmati rice, steamed broccoli and a smug glow of satisfaction for a well balanced meal that everyone loves. Ice cream and fruit for pudding, anyone?
A heartfelt thanks to all of you reading this – also for the comments, keep them coming and get blogging yourselves. I am nearly able to post a photo, but have to master the technical wizardry of getting the pics small enough on the apple mac thing so that you can see the whole image at once instead of just the top left corner. Chris is going to give me a tutorial if I can’t work it out.

A new tail.

I now have a new tail. Florence is getting over her cold, and spent a happy half hour sticky-taping looroll to my belt hook to create my deluxe bicoloured bespoke tail. This was not practical for visiting the shop however and had to be surreptitiously stuck into a pocket before heading for the outside world, although I don’t know why I worried as I look like a wreck at the moment. Theo is covering most of his toys and clothes with snot. Even he tires of eating his bogies, which is saying something for a nearly-3-year old.
Today, the new issue of Horse and Hound magazine arrived. In my new state as non-equestrian I’m considering cancelling the subscription and make do with online updates. This is a hard step to take but may mean that I can buy something more useful (more loo-roll and stickytape?).
Today required more hearty food: butternut squash and kidney bean casserole served with mildly spicy potato wedges. For the stew, fry red onions and red peppers til lightly browned, peel and chop the butternut squash, some carrots, parsnips, celery (the only hint of green), sundried tomatoes and place in a casserole dish. Drain a tin of kidney beans and rinse, add to the dish along with a tin of chopped tomatoes and the fried onion and pepper. Season to taste (thyme, bayleaf, garlic, salt, black pepper) and increase the moisture content with a metric splash of red wine. Sometimes it is good to add half a teaspoon of harissa paste, but today I opted for Tabasco and Worcester sauce along with the stock. Cook with a lid on, in a preheated oven at 200C/ gas mark 6 for an hour at least.
The casserole can sit at the bottom of the oven while the potato wedges, soused in groundnut oil and sprinkled with salt, pepper, coriander powder, paprika and a smidge of ground cumin cook for about 40 mins.

back to the cooker

After a few days battling with illness (mine, the family’s) and heading south to plant my feet on London’s terra firma, it seems like a while since any food proper has been prepared in my kitchen.
Today, we need restorative soup so I head for the pressure cooker with red onion, celery, parsnips, carrots, lentils, olive oil, coriander powder and garam masala. The onions are fried until browned gently, then add the spices and continue to fry for a couple of minutes. The vegetables and lentils (peeled and rinsed where necessary) go in together all covered in water. My favourite part comes next: put on the pressure cooker lid and after 10 minutes some magical alchemical transformation has come about. The steamy intensity brings about the tenderest result which only needs a hint of stock powder (Marigold!), seasoning and a whiz in the jug blender to produce a velvety smooth soup. Triumph!

This soup is best served with homemade spelt flour bread but there are only so many things a woman can do in one day.

This smoothness serves in direct contrast to the rest of the day which was poignant and irritating by turns. I had to go and say goodbye to my share in a horse, Finn, which was sad. Had a good but brief conversation with my riding instructor, meaning I can still go and ride when resources allow. Discovered that Finn (handsome, thuggish) had wrecked my German leather bridle. These disappointments are swiftly forgotten when seeing and hearing my poorly kids, and acting as human remote control is not necessarily the balm I require!

cold comfort food

Today it is a sardines on toast day. Made with rubbish bread but this helps the overall effect.
Only after eating, does it bring back memories of being seven years old and finding a goldfish from the pond mauled on the lawn by one of the neighbour’s numerous cats. Perhaps it was the overall surprise of the fish-out-of-water, or maybe the initial shock at the callous nature of my feline friends that perhaps made me react, erm, with extreme sensitivity. We had to perform burial rites for the fish, complete with shoebox and singing before carefree childhood abandon could return. All was well in paradise until tea, which was as luck would have it sardines on toast.
Today I feel bluer than a pair of Levi’s best, and so it’s appropriate then that I’m sobbing again at teatime after eating sardines on toast.
Perhaps I should have stuck to chocolate.