It is a beautiful clear Summer's day with sky the bluest of blues. There is a strong breeze in the tree tops which whips through the open door and sends my papers flying all over the table.
I like to think I'm writing this on my old type writer - the one with the dodgy key that would suddenly leap into the centre of the page, several tabs, (because it was a cheap typewriter, bought as a Christmas present by my ex-husband when we were still teenagers and I had too many words in my head and nowhere to put them). But in actual fact - like everyone else - it is a quiet, well-behaved keyboard with no soul and no life beyond the plug socket.
Yet today, as I sit here battling a flaring tablecloth and the sudden umbrage of Henry's chickens in the distance (who are less accommodating than they might be, given how well they are fed each day), I am drifting internally on a sea of serene calm and happiness. Today my first little Grandchild has been born and I have moved one step up the ladder and am now 'Granny'.
I am picturing an old black and white photograph I remember of my own Granny when she was younger than me, apparently. She is sitting in a pony and trap at the beach with my cousin Michael, and me a small baby. She is a more comfortable matronly-type Granny than me, with a felt hat on her head and set grey curls framing her face. She is still very pretty, but very much a Grandmother and Matriarch of her family.
I wonder what kind of Granny I will be?
I have been making a vegetable patch in my 'borrowed garden'. I do indeed have a small garden, myself, but it is my borrowed garden with its views over the cows and buttercups in the top meadow and the dip through the trees and down across the stream, where the cattle cross to the high meadows on the other bank, (reminiscent of some old oil painting of Constable's, I like to think), that is the place where I like to be, and think, and work. So, I've moved my old beehive here, and the sundial that once marked time with shadowy rotating fingers in a herb garden far away many Summers ago. There is a simple mellowed wooden bench from where I sit and drink my coffee, and two freshly dug beds zipped together by a narrow stone path in which I have been planting things I may like to eat. One day. If they grow. The climate is a bit harsher here and things take a bit longer and grow a little stockier and sturdier. Or not at all, if they're the fair-weather kind of vegetable. I hope I have just chosen the robust type. I am looking at my little leeks willing them to grow a little stronger. But they have yet time.
I arrive home from the garden nursery with herbs that I can one day use in the kitchen. I have tried to be more disciplined in my approach this time and send the mints packing to the other end of the garden, near the stream, with their unruly root systems. For fun there is a chocolate mint for Sophie and strawberry plants for her to pilfer at will. As a child I remember the best thing about a garden was either as a place to hide or somewhere to hunker down and stuff your face with raspberries, amongst the thorny canes where no one else could see you. And always the red-stained fingers that gave it all away when you were too full to manage much come dinner time.
Last week we had a special Birthday celebration for my son Chris's 30th Birthday. Newly moved into his house and with a baby due imminently it didn't seem fair to let them take the brunt of the work, so it became a family affair, which was lovely. What do you take to a barbecue run by vegetarians? Good question. I opted to make a few salads to go with everything; but in the end, being the sort of mixed family we are, we took meat for the meat-eaters, salad for all and they provided beetroot burgers and a Brazilian pudding which nearly finished us all off. The salads which I made were a simple 'Turmeric rice salad' and a refreshing 'Tangy Courgette salad'. I am gradually amassing a blank journal full of salad accompaniments which I can dip into at will - I never seem to find the recipe I want when I want it, and these blank journals (I have another for soups, one for light suppers etc) help me organise and cross reference. God, I am becoming so anal I think - cross referencing - I love it; love order and neatness, notes to self, adaptations, who loves which recipe in particular....there is no end to the thoughts that can accompany a simple dabbling in the kitchen.
Of course, making lots of salads is time-consuming and unnecessary, in general: one or two will suffice. But if you ever get the chance, take yourself off to Powerscourt House and Gardens in County Wicklow where the Avoca cafe still (hopefully) serves the most amazing range of rainbow salads I've ever seen. Just to be able to choose from so many, so much colour and texture and detail - like a fine embroidered bedspread all laid out before you- is enough to inspire you to get the chickpeas out at home and create with gusto and a sampling spoon. Soon you, too, will have a collection of quick, easy and tasty salads you can rustle up the minute the sun shines (from mainly store cupboard ingredients) and someone utters the word 'barbecue', and you're left thinking 'does this mean muggins is off to the shop when actually I'd like to sit on a terrace and drink something light and fruity served by a very nice man in a white shirt, thank you.'
There is method in this madness.
Turmeric Rice Salad
175g Brown Basmati rice
75g Sultanas
1/2 tsp Turmeric
1 clove of garlic, crushed
4 tbsp french dressing
salt and pepper
chopped parsley to garnish (flat-leaved)
Method:
1. Cook the rice in boiling water for 30-35 mins. until just tender. Drain.
2. Combine the sultanas, garlic, turmeric and french dressing.
3. Pour over the rice and stir well.
4. Cover and refrigerate.
5. Fork through, adjust seasoning and sprinkle with the chopped Parsley.
Tangy Courgette Salad
450g Courgettes
1 lemon
1 garlic clove, crushed
3 tbsp Olive oil
salt and pepper to taste.
Method:
1. Thinly slice the courgettes.
2. Pour boiling water over them and leave for 5 minutes. Drain.
3. Grate the lemon rind, add the juice, the garlic and olive oil.
4. Season with salt and pepper.
5. Pour over the courgettes.
6. Leave to cool in the fridge.
So we arrive at the party with the salads, the meat, the barbecue, the charcoal, the tools, the table, the chairs...and almost the kitchen sink...and Hannah has knocked up another of her fab cakes for the Birthday Boy.
It is one of those perfect Summer afternoons where everyone chooses to behave and things just tick along nicely and everyone has a lovely time. Sometimes, it is just about possible to have the kind of lovely afternoon you see portrayed in the colour supplements with lots of impossibly lovely people all seemingly having "amazing" fun... but it just wouldn't be England, would it, without 'something bad in the woodshed', or at least a ten year old argument being reenacted over by the he-man fire pit.
Bless 'em.
Love Martha x
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