D and myself are having to eat absurd amounts of food at the moment, due to poor planning on behalf of this suburban mama. I bought in lots and lots of fresh fruit and veg about a week and a half ago (slightly smugly of course, parading the healthily laden trolley through Tesco with a beneficent grin on my face, an expression of 'ooh look how healthy my child must be, given all the fresh organic produce I stuff down his little neck'...which is actually a fallacy of the highest order...) and of course, forgot that a) the fridge would be turned off at intervals, due to builders needing the electrics off, and b) that I wouldn't actually BE THERE. And being the clod that I am, I of course, forgot to bring it with me the first time round, so had to wait until the weekend to retrieve it, hence the fact that D and myself are wading through ludicrous sums of fruit and veg.
I think the apple crumble went down a treat with D and the in laws though. Can't beat a bit of apple crumble. I'd give you the recipe, but it is that embarrassingly simple, that I wouldn't want to patronise you. Basically, it's peel apples, cook apples, pour crumble mix on top and cook. Sorted. (and add a bit of cinammon to give it a middle class edge, ha ha.)
As the title suggests, I have also been floating off into little dreamworlds recently. (well, I do that a lot anyway, but more so than usual at the moment.) I keep having flashbacks; back to the days when hubbie and I were young, free and boozy, and touring the world with not much else than a bundle of sweat riddled clothes and a backpack. For example, I looked out of the window this morning to see a jackdaw, sitting somewhat pompously on next door's roof (a burr, D triumphantly identified) and was suddenly transported back to walking down a street in the suburbs of Sydney, in the pouring rain, and watching a wild cockatoo perching miserably on the electric wires overhead. It was that vivid a flashback that it quite surprised me when I realised I was still sitting in a quiet room in Somerset, dutifully spooning soggy Weetabix into my son's open mouth.
Or yesterday, when a very strange vehicle drove slowly past myself and D, pulling behind it a cage with a model dinosaur and a king kong type ape thing, making a horrific tinny jungle noise through a pair of dodgy speakers attached to the back. (It was advertising the wonders of the Wookey Hole caves, in case you were wondering.) And it must have been something about that sound, because all of a sudden, I wasn't pacing the streets of Taunton, munching Haribo and desperately trying to get D off to sleep... no, for that split second, I was back in the Amazon rainforest, at 4:30 in the morning, standing in the wooden lodge and peering into the dense undergrowth, trying to spot some of the howler monkeys that were roaring like harley-davidsons.
But, would I swap this life for that one? Would I pass up being a mummy for swanning off round the world again? Not for a second.
Though, admittedly, if someone gave me a couple of grand, I'd be quite happy to do it again with D strapped to my back in a papoose... hee hee!
No comments:
Post a Comment