We decamp for a few days to Grandma's, by the sea in Northumberland. The weather is being very kind to us and even I am finding I can swim in the North Sea without a sharp intake of breath. The kids have their wetsuits and can stay in longer - this IS England after all, even with a dose of Mediterranean sun.
One of the nicest things about going to the beach is that it tends to make the people in your family, or party, more sociable. My eldest son, James, not known for his social qualities, will happily take up a spade and take control of our military defences against the rising tide (well, he is in the Army). And, armed with a Frisbee or a couple of worn and battered old seaside boule, he doesn't give his younger sisters 'chances'. And such is beach life everywhere. Little scenarios playing out as families are forced to mingle, to co-operate (occasionally) and fight over the best spade, the non-sandy biscuits and who has to carry what back up the windy path to the car. Like Christmas, some things never change.
Sometimes, we have different figurations of people. This year Molly has a friend who lost her Dad and hasn't had a holiday for three years. It's an easy thing for us to do, to add one more place at the table, another body in the car. And lovely for Molly to be able to show Aurora all our special places, where we go pond dipping, and eat the best fish.
Northumberland is a land of castles and long sandy beaches and few tourists, comparatively speaking. The beaches are rarely if ever crowded - there is room for everyone here - and places to go to find peace and solitude and breathe the sea air. I read more books on holiday than at any other time. I tend to take paperbacks with me and these are often trashed because I love to read on the beach and hear the seagulls calling overhead. But often the spines of the books get full of fine silver sand and won't close properly. And I'm embarrassed even to take them to the charity shop sometimes.
We have a good system up here with secondhand books. Housed in the beautiful old Victorian Railway Station in Alnwick (where trains no longer visit) is the most amazing secondhand bookshop. I've watched it over the last twenty years or so get bigger and busier. And still the little model railway tootles around over the top of the bookshelves, the cafe sells tea and there is a real fire and comfy seats on a wet day. So we have a system, my mum and I. She takes in all her lovely new books that she has read (because like me, in general, she likes the feel of a clean unopened new page) and the bookshop makes a tally and there is credit so that when the hoards of Grandchildren arrive, they can all go off and spend Grandma's credit in the children's section, and ride around on over-large ladybirds, whilst the adults are free to wander elsewhere and consider the art work and the first editions and drink coffee in peace.
James has been working at Alnwick Castle, home of Harry Potter, as any eleven year old will tell you. So we take the children to dress up in Medieval costume and make soap, and then on for Broomstick practise (- not on the Nimbus 2000. This one requires manual lift off to get a good photo, and no interactive theme park wizardry involved). It's amazing what a good sales pitch can do; the kids are quite happy with a pile of old besoms and a piece of grass quadrant.
Back home, I am amazed to see how the Peak District is draining colour from the hills. As we come down into our village I look over the church spire and see the hills of the Manifold Valley beyond, all quite brown and barren. It looks like I imagine parts of Australia to be. The trees, themselves, are still in green leaf, but the grass behind is brown in contrast. There is nothing for the sheep or cows to eat up there.
The insects however seem to be inviting themselves inside the house more often this Summer. There are bees on my Oregano which is flowering prettily in a vase in the kitchen, and ladybirds on the last of the redcurrants. The caterpillars on my kale and rocket in the veg patch get less of a welcome. I'd rather they ate the nettles. And something akin to a Horsefly is taking the opportunity to chump on any patch of bare flesh that might be sunbathing in the garden, as Hannah keeps telling me.
Some of us do not fare well in the sun and the heat - redheads particularly. And this and the tightened restrictions on visas to China is creating an undercurrent of discontent in certain quarters. She has a job to go back to in September but things are taking longer than they should. The rest of us are trying to relax and enjoy the Summer. Always a hard one, relaxing, whilst someone else nearby is creating dust clouds of stress and sending out electric currents that pollute the air and seep into your mind and body even as you are consciously relaxing your muscles and turning up the music (or removing your hearing aids, in my mother's case - no one tells you the benefits of being hard of hearing).
I make a quick and tasty 'Aubergine, Pomegranate and Mint Salad' which tastes like hard work was involved, but in fact it took minutes to prepare. We eat it with a mixture of leaves out of the garden - lambs lettuce, rocket, baby spinach and lolla rosso and some couscous.
Aubergine, Pomegranate and Mint Salad
2 large Aubergine
6 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp red wine vinegar
1 pomegranate
1 tbsp shredded mint leaves
Tahini dressing:
2 cloves of garlic (crushed)
1 tbsp tahini paste
125ml natural yogurt
1 lemon (juiced)
1 tbsp honey
pinch of cayenne pepper
pinch of ground cumin
salt and pepper
Method:
1. Slice the aubergines into discs and fry in the olive oil until lightly browned on both sides.
2. In a blender, add all the dressing ingredients. Blend.
3.Place the aubergine slices on a plate and sprinkle with the vinegar and season well.
4. Drizzle the Tahini dressing over.
5. Remove the pomegranate seeds from their skins. (The best way I have found to do this is to cut the pomegranate in half, place one half over a large bowl and bang on the back with a wooden spoon).
6. Scatter over the pomegranate seeds and chopped mint leaves. Serve with cous cous.
You can come and sit in the shade with me and we will drink something cool and refreshing and watch the butterflies doing their courtship dance as they whirl and turn around each other, making paths like the strands in a ball of wool. And their 'ball' drifts here and there, as if caught on the different currents of air, and then finally off towards the trees. Gone, like the soap bubble you held in the palm of your hand as a small child.
Summer's Lease.
Love Martha x
