The Positives of Poverty

I found a sliver of silver today. You see, normally Jim is dead finicky about the type of meat he'll eat. He hates anything on the bone, or with any 'bits' attached. Having been raised on sausages, chips and beans, or some variation thereof I guess it's understandable, but it's hard going sometimes as the cook. However, since we're on our uppers at the moment, I can get away with the cheaper cuts and he can't complain.

So...this week I got some lamb shanks, and they were blummin' lovely. Even he had to agree. Here they are, with rosemary, thyme, tomato etc. and some canellini beans towards the end of cooking.








In other food news, I'm still a big fan of sliced tomato with salt, pepper and red wine vinegar on toast for breakfast. Last week though, I had some tomatoes that were getting a bit soft so I roasted them and swapped the red wine vinegar for balsamic a la The Capitan. Lovely! I might do a weekly rotation of tomatoey toastiness.



In the background you can see one of the little canisters that the aforementioned Capitan sent me yonks ago. I use this one for salt and the other, which is a darker shade of green, for chilli flakes. I love them sooooooo much that I now use way more salt than is good for me. I have a little wooden spoon to go with them too. I may end up with arterial sclerosis, but I'll be doing it in style.

And while we're talking about the Capitan, here's a pic of Jim eating home made pizza. He's sporting the serviette with the tie on that you sent!



More later, Bert xx

Furrowing My Brow on a Friday

I'm developing a theory. They say a lot of marriages run into trouble when the child/children leave home, and that women can have a bit a personal crisis around that time - all because the parents realise they don't have much left in common without the child around, and the mother feels a bit lost without the child to look after.

My theory is that maybe that's not it at all. Maybe the crisis comes when you realise that all your opportunities to do the job of parenting better, to get it right, to be the mother you want to be, are gone. However you may have stuffed up, there's no going back to fix it now.

I really hope that doesn't happen to me. I may very well screw up the Murph in some way, but I really hope he can think of his childhood in a completely different way to how I remember my childhood and my mother.

Every day I pray I'll do a better job, that I'll be more patient, that I'll...well let's be honest, I pray that I'll be his perfect mother. I can't stand that he'd ever have anything like any of the memories I have.

It doesn't matter how much effort I put in though, or how much I exhaust myself worrying, it never feels like enough. I always feel like I'm failing him.

Like today for instance, he's bloody exhausted from not sleeping well lately, and I'm doing everything I can to get him to have a nap, and he just keeps fighting it no matter how much he needs it. Even if it's him that suggested having a sleep!

Aaaagh, I just feel so guilty about possibly passing on the insomnia thing to him. Maybe he'll be fine, but it worries me a lot. It's so cruel.

Mind you, I say that, but when he did finally give in today he slept for 2 1/2 hours! When that happens I'm torn between being pleased, and thinking, 'Well why all the bloody carry one then? You were obviously tired.'

Sometimes I think instead of harbouring feelings of rejection like I do, he'll think 'yeah, Mum was all right, but I wish she would've just relaxed a bit more!'

Whaddareyagonnedo?

xx Bert