A blog I love to read is A girl Called Jack. She writes about politics, her life and thoughts and food. You can find her here…. http://agirlcalledjack.com/2013/11/20
One of her latest posts brought back some really lovely memories of life in a trailer with children. In our case, they ranged from 8 to 18 years. We wouldn’t have all of them with us all of the time, so when we did it was a real treat and as only Step-monster to the younger ones I got to be arbitrator rather than disciplinarian. Loved it.
The early morning saw me at the kitchen top making toast or bacon sandwiches, and sometimes making drop scones. The secret, I find, is not to make their favourite every day, it becomes commonplace and no longer a treat. That’s when you find half eaten bits left on the side. Or worse, one bite taken, then abandoned. Variety, as they say…..
I started out making them like my mum used to, with a thick, plain flour batter, dropped into the pan. Then I made some with a raising agent and was nearly carried out shoulder high.
Dad in the end bedroom, offspring snuggling, crowded under quilts on the double bunk. Drop scones hot out of the pan, two at a time and spread (Nutella on a treat day, butter if there was none) to be passed down the line. You had to move quickly. I only had small pans and even with two of them on the go at a time, four drop scones go nowhere in a crowd and for a hungry boy, the first half dozen go down without touching the sides! The air of anticipation would be electric and squabbling common. Likely outbreaks of violence were only avoided by some fast flipping.
But if you got it right and Dad was properly awake and on form with some skilful deflection and tales of the past, it was the best laugh. The trailer would rock to hysterical giggling and shrieking (which in one case, if pitched too high, could lead to accidents).
Either way it was a fun, cosy start to a day and put us all in a good mood, ready to face the world with a smile.
They’ve all fled the nest now but those are some of the best memories we have.
Maybe, one day, I’ll be lucky enough to live it again with the next generation.