we said goodbye

This week we said goodbye to our long time companion and furry pal, Gretel the cat. She was weeks away from turning 19 in people years which made her about 94 in cat years so a good old life. She was, in recent months, having more difficulty moving around and was growing increasingly deaf. Occasionally she showed the odd moment of her old self, like a couple of weeks ago when she came upstairs to our bedroom, mewing loudly. It was her way of letting me know I’d left the oven on.

She was kind enough to give us notice that she was fading. On Saturday she barely moved, choosing to lie either on the tile floor in the kitchen or laundry room, or on the mat just inside the back door. When stroked she purred as usual, but it was barely audible. We half expected her to die overnight but come morning she still mewed weekly from her basket when we went in to say good morning. We sat beside her, on and off all day, she didn’t move from her basket and in the morning she was gone. We held a burial service for her in the backyard and now all we have are a few cat toys, traces of cat fur and years of memories. She was a peaceable cat, she didn’t chase anything except toy mice, she just would bat at or meow at mice, rats, birds and squirrels in the back yard. Like other cats she would race around the house as if possessed,stand right behind me when I was cooking but then be outraged if I took a step back and tripped over her, mew loudly to go outside and then refuse to go outside once the door was open and sleep in places she wasn't supposed to, leaving cat shaped depressions and fur on the duvet. She would try to steal sips of wine from our glasses, and lick my legs and feet while trying to pin them down to stop me moving every time I shaved my legs. I'll miss that. We will miss her.

It’s hard to stay maudlin with a 6 year old in the house. When it became evident that Gretel was fading fast, we let our boy know he should say goodbye.

B: “Is she going to die now?”
Me: “Well, not right this minute but soon.”
B: “We’ll be so sad. I’ll cry millions of tears. I better go get some flowers for her right now so she knows we love her.”

He proceeded to run out into the garden and a few minutes later came back in with some zinnias pulled off their stems, a couple of globe allium flowers and a poppy trailing their long stems. He tried to lay the flowers on the cat but we managed to stop him.

B: “Is she dead yet?”
Me: “No.”
B: leaning over and petting the cat “ bye bye Gretel, we love you”.

On hearing the news that the cat had died, he wanted to see her. We told him he couldn’t, as she was already wrapped up. At the burial “service” he sang a song for the cat, based on the national anthem which went something like “we stand on guard for you, we love you every day.” And he wants to make a marker so we don’t forget where she is buried. He was a bit concerned as we didn’t bury Gretel with any of her toys but was mollified by the thought that we will give the toys to his aunt’s newish kitten, Fred.

All the same, he’s already asking when he can get his dog. Gretel disliked dogs so we would not entertain the idea of a dog while she was still alive. So now I will have pressure from both of my guys, one for his two beagles and the other for whatever dog he can think of to play with. In the meantime, we have the goldfish to keep us company – George V, Herschel, Marg, Blackie and the others.  

postcards from home

A couple of weeks ago, on a solitary evening walk, I came across a gem of a view.

It’s close to our house, about 6 blocks, as the crow flies. A tiny signpost pointed the way through the woods or I never would have found it.

It’s a special place to our family because it’s where my husband’s siblings spent some of their childhood, in the days when there was a marina in the bay. I’ll take our boy there for a picnic soon so he’ll know it too.

strawberry pancakes for canada day

July 1st is a holiday in these parts - to celebrate Canada Day. On a whim, I made a batch of pancakes from our family recipe, something we used to have about once a month as children and something my father was in charge of cooking. The recipe comes from a book - The Canadian Cookbook - and the family copy of the book has many calculations along side the recipe, multiplications or divisions of the original recipe to adjust the number of servings. When my brother took over the pancake duties from our Dad, he would add "surprises" - usually raisins to the batter. Now, he and his family regularly have pancakes and my English nephews love maple syrup. When we visit we pack our suitcases full of bottles of Canadian maple syrup for their pancakes. It's always eagerly anticipated and usually means pancakes soon after our arrival. My brother does say that English flour does not produce fluffy pancakes. Apparently for fluffy pancakes, Canadian flour is required.

Pancakes (from The Canadian Cookbook)

1 1/2 cups of flour
1 tsp salt
3 tbsp sugar
1 3/4 tsp baking powder
2 beaten eggs
3 tbsp melted butter
1-1 1/4 cups of milk

Mix and sift dry ingredients. Beat egg, add milk and butter. Combine to make a batter. Cook the pancakes.

I added sliced strawberries to the batter, once the pancakes were in the pan, cooking - as I had a flat of strawberries sitting on the counter. The inspiration came from here. And then it struck me that I had made strawberry pancakes for Canada Day. They are delicious served with warm maple syrup.

baking with mum

A wierd thing happened the other day. A woman at work approached me and said "I found a cookie recipe on your blog, the one with coconut and banana, and I made it. My family loves the cookies. I made some more with walnuts, would you like to try one?" Of course I did. They were great with walnuts and I'm so happy someone is making one of my favorite cookies for her family and made the recipe their own by adding walnuts. We didn't usually add nuts to cookies as my Dad isn't a big nut in cookies fan. Says that walnuts squeak on his teeth.

So tonight, when faced with a blackish banana left from T's lunchbox, I made a batch of oatmeal macaroons (as they are called officially on the recipe from mum's recipe box). I used a big cookie scoop so the cookies are about triple the size they normally are and only yielded about 18 cookies.

 But as I was mixing them up, I was back with my mum in our old family kitchen, with the brick wall and horrible 70's wallpaper (rust orange and brown) and the avocado appliances. And behind the ghost of my mum was the ghost of my gram, a big baker. So I hope one day, T will bake cookies and remember things we baked together and continue the tradition.

baking bread

So Tuesday night, in between making quinoa pilaf and cabbage gratin I made a loaf of oatmeal spelt bread (above, pictured in the background) using the base white bread recipe from America's Test Kitchen Home Collection. I mix it up using my stand mixer (love it) and let the dough rise in the bowl as suggested by a friend. I love this idea as you can punch the dough down using the dough hook and you don't end up with another bowl to wash! Admittedly my loaves aren't pretty but they are tasty.

I also whipped up a batch of pumpkin chocolate chip toffee muffins. Then I collapsed and haven't cooked or baked since. Just kidding!

Also in the picture are bluebells and lily-of-the-valley from my sister-in-law for mother's day. Isn't she lovely! I love lily-of-the-valley. They remind my of my mum, who loved them. When we lived in Germany, Dad used to gather them for her and bring them home in his hat. Probably not the proper use of a uniform hat (Dad was a Flight Lieutenant in the Air Force).