Lace skies, spelt cakes and new beginnings

It is deep in the heart of winter. The days are leeched of colour. I can rarely look up for fear of slipping but when I do, it is all black lace against the ashen face of sky.

There is a predictable pattern to my moods, I am not exalted I am not depressed, but it feels like I am waiting again. Waiting for inspiration, for energy, for a sense of purpose and epiphany. I don't ask for much.

Beautiful people and a treat for a yogi

December was busy with the micro management of tiny toys that had multiplied dramatically.  A system was needed. I spent whole afternoons ordering pink and blue Ikea tubs into zones - Phoebe's went like this: Ponies, Barbies, Sylvanias, Playmobil, Small Toys (Mini Mermaids, Animal Rescue, Polly Pocket Stuff and The Crap From Party Bags).Then on to the blue tubs for River - Action People and Their Weapons, Transformers, Lego, Pirates, Dragons and Knights, Shiny Treasures (Padlocks, Pennies and Silver Buttons).Then I relayed this system to my children and husband who will never follow it.

Sexy Spanish mushy peas and urban kitchen wonders

The end of summer and rain in England.

A recent holiday back home to Australia ( http://www.takethefamily.com/features/long-haul-family-holidays-byron-bay-australia )  left us cashless and marooned in Manchester for the long six weeks of school holidays. One week - bare shoulders, properly warm and jubilant - I bought a paddling pool for the kids. It was the last day of sun. All the next week it rained and the grey blanket of sky wrapped us in a dreary embrace.

Aunty Vicki's first food memory

When I first moved to Melbourne from Sydney, 23 and reeling from a dramatic relationship break-up, it was Aunty Vicki who met me at the train station and wrapped me in her navy-coat warmth, smelling like Chanel, smelling like safety.