Letting go

Half term has been very different this time with the one and only spreading his wings and heading off on a school trip. Now, he has been away on trips before but they have always been in this country and have been ‘fun stuff’. This one has been quite different, destination Poland – Krakow to be precise, and included a visit to Auschwitz. As I write I am sitting waiting for the phone call to say he has landed safely at Luton Airport and is heading back home. I wonder what he has made of it? Did it stir difficult emotions? Did he allow himself to express those feelings? Will he talk to u about it all?

The only contact we have had was to let us know he had arrived at the hotel in Krakow a few days ago and that the room was OK if a little small for him and his two room mates. Will he have eaten well? Will he have slept well? Did he have enough warm clothes (I wasn’t allowed to participate in packing!)? So many questions but I MUST resist the temptation to ask them…yes he’s a teenager and I am not allowed to ‘cross question’. I know we will hear about the interesting stuff in the fullness of time but it is so hard as a Mum not to want to know minute by minute accounts. I’ve got to get used to this as he gradually grows away from my influence...or do I mean control? The GCSEs will be taken this spring/summer and then it’s 6th form – oh yes, and he’s the oldest in his year so driving lessons are on the list for September. Something else for me to worry about.

But as I think back to when I was 16 I was doing so much more so why am I worrying? I was the youngest in my year so perhaps that was what made it different? And yes, it is different for girls. We mature differently and in different ways. The world was very different then – full of the same kinds of temptations but somehow safer, or was it? I was interested in having a good time, getting into pubs and pushing the boundaries. He is much more private and happy to be in his room communicating in this new virtual world. He is interested the political world around him, much less superficial than my teenage years. But I know he will start to go out and about on his own soon enough. He is already talking about other places he wants to visit – that scares me because I have never been a great traveller, I think I am rather like a fine wine! But I have to let him become his own person, he’s not my little baby anymore he is a young man and needs to discover things for himself…just like I did as a young woman.

Post script: He got home safe and sound full of excitement at the riots in Krakow that greeted the NATO leaders, impressed by the North Koreans he met (nicest people there Mum) and insensed by the size of Air Force One parked on the runway of the airport!

first food for thought

Do I really want to blog? - I’m not sure but I think I should give it a go, after all I am sufficiently opinionated and I like to have a good rant here and there. Plus who knows, I could actually learn something if people can be bothered to join in and respond here and there. My ego is big enough but I am actually quite shy so it’ll take a while to get going methinks. I don’t like to think I have ever been one to go on and on until I have bored the audience into submission – but maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part!

Well brace yourselves, here goes…

Just recently I have felt moved to write a letter, well actually pen the odd email (can you pen and e mail?)about ‘Master Chef’. It’s about the only reality TV I watch (granted I had a short flirtation with ‘strictly’ purely because I am a big fan of Julian Clary and just so wanted to see him continue his spats with the judges).

I thoroughly enjoy the programme and enjoy having my taste buds teased by the sight of some very interesting food – ‘TV DOESN’T COME TASTIER THAN THIS!’ But...I have increasingly become enraged by the round in the professional kitchens of those flashy restaurants. The contestants suffer in the heat and pressurised environment with ‘Chef’ yelling at all and sundry – fine, that’s what they signed up for and if they want to get ahead they’ve got to be able to take it. But…it’s the food, the waste of the food, which has got me overcooked.
OK, so the fish is just a bit off centre from the watercress garnish but it is perfectly edible.
OK, so you wouldn’t want to send it out looking a bit frayed round the edges. But…do you really have to sling it in the bin?
Surely someone could eat it? Surely the staff could have the rejects for a snack at the end? Surely the dish could be frozen and passed on as a ready meal to some deserving cause?

I guess it’s my upbringing of not wasting precious food and being made to clean my plate come what may that lies behind my fury. But I strongly feel it is obscene to sling out good quality food when there are many who will die for the want of much less. Perhaps I have got it all wrong and there are restaurants out there doing the decent thing with their rejects – but it doesn’t look good from where I sit each Monday to Thursday evening. I wonder what our campaigning Chefs like Saints Jamie and Hugh get up to at their establishments?

Right, that’s better, it’s off my chest. I promise I won’t be quite so intense each time I write. But I’ve been stewing on that one for a few episodes now. I shall mull over some more thoughts and I may just blog again soon – unless this one ends up in the bin!