Lamingtons: Butter or Sponge?

Fresh Butter Cake squares waiting to be made into lamingtons,
 if they aren't consumed first.

There are some times when you just wish you still had your Granny around to ask a few questions.

Do you find that?  As I'm getting older and have a more mature perspective of the world, shall we say, I find myself wanting to ask my Granny a few more questions than I had thought to before she died when I was about 20.

Creaming the butter

When growing up I took for granted the fabulous lamingtons my Granny made for the family to share on picnics out on the farm.  I just devoured them.  We all did.  They were fabulous.

Little Eee loving helping with creaming the butter and sugar 

As I grew older I realised there were other sorts of lamingtons you could buy from bakeries and also supermarkets.  I never really took to those at all.  I have however come across a few and eaten a few as they are a favourite sweet of my dear Generous Gentleman's.  They always left a metallic taste in my mouth, and still do.

Ess helping sift flour into our bowl

So when the opportunity arose to take the family to the Great National Lamington Bake Off in order to celebrate Australia Day we all jumped at the chance.  I was curious to see what it was all about and how a chef might interpret the lamington these days.  My girls love baking (and tasting of course) and my lovely husband just loves eating lamingtons.  So it was a match made perfectly.

Fresh golden butter cake with the recipe I transcribed
at the age of about 10 years

When it was discovered that two out of the three chefs were baking a sponge cake for their lamington a question arose concerning the original and authentic lamington.  Would it have also been a sponge cake or would it have been a butter cake?  Granny always made a butter cake for her lamingtons and I have assumed that the spongey light and fluffy cake was made by the bakeries and supermarkets.  However it seems that some others consider the sponge base is a more authentic lamington.  Or perhaps they prefer the light and fluffy sponge cake?  It seems that the CWA baked a butter cake for their lamingtons as well.  I am yet to find an example of the sponge cake being used for lamingtons by the older generation, apart from mass production for school fetes and the like.  What is your preference?  

For the results of the bake-off take a read of the Canberra Times article.

Waiting for icing and coconut

Now I'm on a mission to bake lamingtons with my family in the fashion of my Granny's, to share with them the tradition I hold such fond and vivid memories of.  I'll ask them which cake they choose as their cake of preference: butter or sponge?  I already know my choice.

Honest Scrap Award - Received with thanks!

Thankyou Alecat, for passing the Honest Scrap Award on to me.  I am delighted to have received this award as I trust it is a reflection of the 'honesty policy' I live by.  It is my aim to be truthful and authentic in all I do and all I say.  It is wonderful to see this acknowledged.  Thanks!

To keep this award, there are some rules by which I (and future recipients) must abide:

1) Say thanks and give a link to the presenter of the award.

2) Share "ten honest things" about myself.

3) Present this award to 7 others whose blogs I find brilliant in content and/or design, or those who have encouraged me.

4) Tell those 7 people that they've been awarded HONEST SCRAP and inform them of these guidelines in receiving it.

Now ten honest things about myself:

1. I am very glad to have received this award today as I have a houseguest and am finding having someone in the house constantly takes my mind from any blogging or crafting etc. that I might have on the go.  This has helped me think of another post - although I fear this one might take longer to write than some ;)

2. My houseguest is my Dad.  I am enjoying reconnecting with him again and seeing him with my children, his grandchildren.  Yet, I confess, I am frustrated.  I want to be able to accept him more for who he is, as my father and a grandfather of my daughters.  I desire for him to share more of his life, to have fun, to play, tell stories.  This he does very briefly when I ask him to, it is not spontaneous.  Each day I pray, each day it improves.   One day I hope to be able to do this with no reservations, just full acceptance.

3. Music has always been part of my life.  I cannot remember not being able to read music.  I have sung with my siblings, in choirs - in schools and out, have led worship in churches, have learnt, then played piano from when my father asked me late at night if I'd like to, as an 8 year old child.  I have organised little musicals and concerts with my siblings and of course, my career has been in educating families with very young children how to enjoy the routines of everyday life with music as an integral part, through Kindermusik.  Now I live that life, singing with my littlies, when they allow me ;)  (You'll know what I mean if you are a singing mother).

4. Being creative has always been part of my life.  For as long as I can remember I have been able to read a pattern and 'make things'.  As a child I remember sewing, patchworking and embroidery, making clothing and doing latchwork (among numerous other things).  I made many of my own clothes from a very young age and loved going to the local fabric shop, Sylvia's Fabrics, with Mum to choose fabric and patterns.  Most of the clothes I worked in were made by my own hand.  I made my own wedding dress with my Mum and also my daughter's bridesmaid's dress.

5. I grew up in a country town and my heart will always be in the country.  I live on the outskirts of the city now yet feel like a country girl as I travel 30mins to visit our markets to shop (actually longer than I travelled to shop as a child as we lived "in town") and participate in most activities we enjoy as a family.  I love the solitude of the country, the need to create your own fun for entertainment and sense of space all around.

6. I love to cook and find this a wonderful creative outlet.  This is very fortunate as I have a family to feed who seem to be getting more and  more ravenous with age.  It is very fortunate that I love to cook as we eat very little processed food as My Generous Gentleman and I made a decision to invest in our health in this way.  We make most food ourselves.

7. My GG and I both have a passion for growing vegetables (although I do all the work in planning, planting, nurturing and cooking). He helps with the manual labour.  We'd both love more space and our own place - he more than me at the moment as I feel very satisfied with my life at this stage.  In truth we are learning from his Dad and also eating most of his fruit and veg while we wait for a place to plant trees and improve our soil, our soil.

8.  At the end of this year we will have only been married for 3 years, yet it seems so much longer.

9. I absolutely detest washing dishes and am so very fortunate that while my husband doesn't enjoy, he gets much less stressed about it.  He is my dishwasher while I complete other chores and play with the girls.  I am eternally grateful for this.

10. I absolutely love caring for and nurturing my family - while it can drive me to absolute distraction at times (I have a very busy toddler).  I thrive on finding activities to enjoy with my girls which are creative and educational and am actually finding that school is getting in the way by taking up so much of my and my daughter's time and energy.  Your experience of homeschooling definitely tempts me on occasion Alecat ;)

So now to offer this award to 7 others in no particular order.

Sarah of the best days of my life for inspirational and honest writing

Beth of Beth Brawley Taylor for inspiration and encouragement.

David at Shaping the Space for sharing with truth, honesty, maturity and hilarity.

Juliane at Fröken Skicklig for delightful inspiration, honesty, integrity and fantasy.

Homestay Mama from Home to the World for authenticity, maturity and wisdom.

Julie of Towards Sustainability for ideas, honesty and inspiration for a more authentic lifestyle.

Melissa of Day to Day for continuing inspirational crafty ideas shared within the context of true family life.

I do very much look forward to reading your replies.

I am From

Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee

Calls back the lovely April of her prime.
~William Shakespeare

Today is my mother's birthday.  She is away visiting her sister who is also celebrating her birthday today.  My aunty is 80 years old, she is 13 years my mother's elder.  Knowing they are celebrating getting older makes me reflect and think about where I am headed and where I am from. 

I recently read this post of Kellie's on Don't Look Now!  I thought it was lovely that she was from a similar place to me but never thought I'd write my own poem.  Then, at times unsuspecting, the poem sprouted and before I knew it my poetic juices were flowing and I had my own history penned.   So if you think you cannot, you will not, I encourage you to let go and see what might flow.  It is actually quite cathartic.  If you do write your own "I'm From" poem please let me know so I can join you in learning more about where you're from.  If you follow the links from Kellie's poem you will find the original from whence it came.

So here's a sneak peak of some of me.

I’m From

I’m from tireless pioneers, hard-working farmers and long dusty trails. From blacksoil plains, deceptive mirages and vast, tree-studded horizons.  From small country town, regional farming community and “townie vs cockie” the former is me!  From Mehi River, Gwydir River, where rivers meet. 

I’m from maternal ancestors trekking across seas, across lands; from England to South Australia, into northern New South Wales, up to central Queensland.  From sheep grazing, wheat farming then cotton as well. Corrugated iron sheds, blue-topped cotton modules, and seasonal “snowy” cotton lined roads.  From worshipping in a country church built by relatives of friends.

I’m from aesthetic beauty: flowers in the garden, arranged in vases, floral shows as well.  From cakes carefully decorated by my mother’s own hand, from embroidery, crochet, sewing, handmade.  Fixing loose threads on my clothing, “not the good scissors!”, stashes of fabric, buttons, binding and ribbons.  Always dressing well to go out.  From Sylvia’s fabrics, pattern hunting and fabric matching.

Paternally from Denmark to Australia, right into Queensland, freezing to heat.  From food production, apple orchards, vegetable growing and home baking.

From awkwardness, confusion; leadership and faith.  From silliness and laughter with my treasured brother and sister.   From independence and competence, achievement and success.

From “hugs and kisses”, “hugs and kisses” among siblings at the end of car journeys, upon arrival at our holiday destination, the “Uh-oh better go to bed” and “I wear my sunglasses at night, to keep my panties on tight” fun play with siblings.

Photo found at  www.Redbubble.com

I’m from the bright yellow daffodil, pretty pink poppy and rich red rose, the calm Carbeen tree, breezy Belah and the beloved, guarded unique Leopard Tree.

From the smoking besa block incinerator in the backyard, the besa block “barby”, begrudged family trips to the dump.

From oranges, mandarins and almonds in the garden, lawns always watered through hot summer months.

From home-sewn school uniform and Dad-knitted navy cardigan, from tights keeping legs warm from pesky, shivery Jack Frost on our front lawn

From Sunday roast dinners and baked beans on toast, salad plate lunches, toast fingers with soup.  From Potatoes La Jolla, Herbed Chicken pieces from “promite, not vegemite” or “vegemite not promite” sandwiches in lunchboxes.

Piano lessons during lunchtime, then through swimming lessons in high school. Piano duets in my best friend’s Mum’s bedroom on weekend retreats from boarding school.  Boarding school challenges, fun and successes.  Singing and singing, and singing some more, “Yes, Jesus loves me”, Christmas carols and rhymes.  Renaissance polyphonies, madrigals, and contemporary and sacred choral works.

I'm from sharing my music, from teaching tiny littlies, imparting my intuition and knowledge to the families I meet.  From meeting my beloved and sharing in our union, from bearing two treasured, precious daughters who now ofttimes lead me in my journey.

And now I am me, here today, returned to the start, growing veges and living down south in South Australia from whence my ancestors came, living and loving creatively, following my Creator.

Farm photos courtesy of my brother and sister-in-law. 

Tweet and Toot announce my 100th post and a little giveaway to celebrate

One photo out of focus is a mistake, ten photo out of focus are an experimentation, one hundred photo out of focus are a style.  ~Author Unknown

Tweet and Toot, inspired by Jikke and Lila, are here to announce that Cee has finally written 100 posts.  It has taken a while but I think I have finally got some blogging mojo this year.  I'm not sure whether I'm at the 'experimentation' or 'style' stage with my photos but at least now I'm in the running for 'style' with posting :)

Little Tweet has found a home on Ess' school bag and she proudly carries him to school each day.  She did not appreciate me removing him in the morning so I could take a photo for this post during daylight hours. 

Little Toot has not yet found a home. So to celebrate 100 posts and to express my gratitude to family, friends and new blogging mates, as well as to give my desire to increase my generosity a boost, we are having a little giveaway.  We hope that soon Little Toot will find a home at your place.  Or maybe you have an appreciative little family member who'd enjoy him.

The two of them will hate to be parted but that's OK.  Toot's new owner will be most caring I am certain.  I have met some lovely lovely people in the blogosphere.

As an addition, I will also giveaway a recipe of mine.  Yes I know you can see them here and copy and paste and print or whatever but I want you to have something real and tangible of me and my place.  In this case, my handwriting.   So I will contact you and we'll negotiate a recipe you'd like to have which I'll handwrite for you and post off with Little Toot.  My handwriting is quite stylish I think and a little more sophisticated than my five year old daughter's.

I value handwriting very highly and am sorry that we don't use it as much these days.  There are so many things we can do with our handwriting to add a special touch.   I remember a tea party held by a friend of mine (who'll read this) who had written the names of all that she had baked and displayed the tags beautifully on the table with her wares.  I remember feeling lost when the handwritten labels on my father's client's files were all replaced with typed ones (unbeknown to him). I would find files by the sight of the handwriting rather than reading the label.  That soon changed.   These days you can also have your own handwriting made into a font to use on the computer.  That's a bit construed I think but at least it reinforces the value of handwriting.  Maybe one day there will be a font named Pea Cee.  I just need to get a scanner to complete that task on my list.

And my recipe book!  I have a few, but my fondest one I started when I was just 10 years old.  Wrapped in Mr Men contact ;), it contains recipes I've written over the years.  It also has recipes that were written by my Mum, my Dad, my Aunty and my best friend from school.  My sister-in-law recently wrote in one for her Tagine.  I remember each one by the individual's handwriting.  Seeing the handwriting reminds me of that person, the times we shared together, enjoying a delicious meal together.  Do you  have a similar recipe book?  Or is your recipe collection like my newer books - display folders showing printouts from the computer and pullouts from magazines?  Each has its own merit, yet there is something extra special about a handwritten collection built up over the years, do you agree?

So to be eligible for this little giveaway, I urge you to leave a comment (about anything at all). I know I have a lot of readers there who are not commenting so now is your chance.  I'd love to meet you and get to know you and I really am very lovely... at least I don't bite - usually!

In a short while, when enough of you have commented, I will randomly choose someone to win and advise you who that is, in another post soon.

Ways to Love a Child

Give your presence more than your presents.

Laugh, dance and sing together.

Listen from a heart-space. Encourage. Understand.

Allow them to love themselves.

Say yes as often as possible.

Say no when necessary.

Honour their no's.

Apologise.

Touch gently.

Build lots of blanket forts.

Open up.

Fly kites together.

Lighten up. Believe in possibilities.

Read books out loud. Create a circle of quiet.

Teach feelings. Share your dreams.

Walk in the rain. Celebrate mistakes.  Admit yours.

Frame their artwork. Stay up late together.

Eliminate comparison.  Delight in silliness.

Handle with care. Protect them. Cherish their innocence. Giggle.

Speak kindly.  Go swimming. Splash.

Let them help.  Let them cry. Don't hide your tears.

Brag about them.  Answer their questions.

Let them go when it's time. Let them come back.

Show compassion.  Bend down to talk to children.

Smile even when you're tired.  Surprise with a special lunch.

Don't judge their friends.  Give them enough room to make decisions.

Love all they do.

Honour their differences.

Respect them.

Remember they have not been on earth very long.

Author Unknown.

This poem speaks for itself doesn't it.

I was very touched as it was read to me this morning at the School Transition Visit of my darling first-born daughter, Ess.  She is entering the world of schooling next year and I am very glad that the school she will be attending values children highly and wants to share ways to love them. I am looking forward to a good association with them. Hopefully a longish one.

Enjoy your precious little ones as we approach this Christmas season and remember the importance of your "presence not your presents".

Going Grey

People in this country are starved for the truth
~ Harry G. Frankfurt,

author of On Bullshit and On Truth

Anne Kreamer

No, I am not going grey…not yet! But have you considered whether or not you will allow your hair to grey? I hadn’t. (After all, I am still only in my mid-thirties). At least I hadn’t until I heard an interview with Anne Kreamer. She was inspirational. Anne has embraced going grey and turned away from dying her hair, and she lives in the States where pressure to “colour” seems overwhelming. Is it similar in Australia? Do we experience the same pressure?

Personally, I have never dyed my hair. My 4yr old daughter has coloured her hair more than I have in my entire life. It’s not been something I considered – even in my teens. I guess I’ve always embraced the way I look. I love my natural blonde highlights, which were more prominent in my youth (I have to say). So I guess I am going to go grey. Colouring is not an option I’ve considered and I don’t want to present myself as anything that is not me. A different colour simply wouldn’t be me. It would cover me up. “Colouring hair” said Anne’s husband, “is to do with the difference between rebuilding and ‘upkeep and maintenance’". He goes on in the following vein, the beautiful essence is somehow lost when something is covered up. The beauty and the essence of something is how it looks as it ages, consider how we love old European cities such as Paris and Rome.

I like the idea of rebuilding ourselves. To me it speaks more creatively about who we are and how this changes and transforms yet is always positively challenging. Upkeep and maintenance to me is tiring and annoying, am I allowed to say even boring. It shows little value in what is becoming and holds in high esteem that which was; and in the case of dyeing hair, of valuing youth more greatly than age and experience. Somehow we have become colourers of our hair so that we (and others) can’t see that we are getting older. I must question, “why do we not want to get older?" Ann Richards concluded her conversation with friend Anne Kreamer saying, “wisdom and age have value. It’s really important and if all we do is continue this whole business of focusing on youth, we’ll miss that all ages can be wonderful, not only personally but the culture will miss that ingredient as well.” Can we afford to let that go? Do we want to let value in wisdom and age disappear?

I am proud to declare that all the ladies in my immediate family have gone grey – very gracefully I must say. Although let me clarify,…my Mum tried to colour her hair once and the three of us kids laughed voraciously and questioned her “What on earth have you done that for?” That was the only colour I ever saw in my Mum’s hair. She let it grey (starting very young, when she married, with her “Mrs Ghandi streak” as she called it) and it looks lovely.

Our image is important. We want to portray ourselves in a certain way and this clearly speaks reams about how people see us. When I first saw Anne’s book "Going Gray: what I learned about beauty, sex, work, motherhood, authenticity, and everything else that really matters” a friend and I noticed how much more presentable she was with her grey hair than she appeared before she experienced the whole “going grey” process. Even my own Ess agreed. She clearly chose the new and grey image of Anne Kreamer when asked to point to the ‘best lady’.

Anne was surprised when she visited three Image Consultants in New York as an experiment for her book. She expected them to tell her to dye her hair but all considered grey hair was a very distinctive and strong statement. It’s the clothes, not the hair they suggested. Do you have a wardrobe full of unnecessary emotionally-laden familiar baggage? I look forward to being able to discard mine. The sense of liberation will be profound when I can purge myself of these. I’ll feel nimble and light like having my hair cut, or indeed like having definitely decided that my hair will go grey. We are all constantly in need of changing. We need to make advancements and adjustments to the way we look and to our hair and clothes. What works once may not work again later.

Anne also tested responses to grey or non-grey hair online by presenting herself as each (using the wonders of Photoshop) on Match.com. Interestingly she received more interested looks as a grey woman. I think she was seen as more authentic as a grey-haired woman.

So what are the pressures we experience which convince us we need to dye our hair? Is it to be able to further our career, or simply re-enter the workforce, to feel sexy for our men? Is it to maintain some semblance of youthfulness? Do we succumb to the pressure of marketeers who make a bucket-load out of hairdressing practices? Does it become habit to dye our hair and something which we simply do? Almost like my own habit to not dye my hair. Not quite so simply. This is a choice for me. It is a choice about living simply, presenting myself in truth and telling more of the plain truth hoping to encourage society to be truthful. My hair is a symbol of what I am trying to be. Anne says it beautifully for me, “The more we tell the truth in the way we look, maybe, the more we’re inclined to tell the truth in other ways and thus encourage other people to be honest with us”.

And what about men going grey? One man, a CNN anchor, once considered “give in to grey”. I think we can all do better than that – embrace the grey. It shows honesty, authenticity, maturity, confidence, self-control and a willingness to embrace the changes and challenges which life brings.

A French-born Manhattan hairstylist says “Grey makes a statement. It stands out.” He regards “showing your silver as a choice and one of the few truly exciting things a women can do with her hair. A way of breaking taboos.” That’s exciting. Maybe a few of us are changing the world a little and breaking taboos together. I think it will be wonderful when the world realises that experience and authenticity can be attractive. We are all experiencing an intensifying hunger for authenticity. I see this also in the way we are increasingly embracing ‘all things organic’.

Yet how we choose to grow older is deeply idiosyncratic and we are all individually responsible for finding our own comfortable place.