Tea, friendship and a recipe

A cup of tea and a friend can really do wonders for ones mood. I must admit, the confines of recovery have been getting to me. The children have had cabin fever. Emerson is teething and Cohen is testing his boundaries, as four year olds are want to do. I've not felt myself and have been unable to shake the feeling. I've felt I should be doing 'something', though I'm uncertain as to what that 'something' may be. There is much I am still unable to do. Despite the many positives, it's been frustrating.

Sitting around the kitchen table with an old friend this morning, we chatted in that interrupted manner that mothers become accustomed to. Sentences hang midair while meeting a child's needs. Threads of conversation are lost or picked up again eventually. Dreams, stories, hopes, successes and failures are shared. The words flow. Gifts were exchanged. And there is that ease you develop with some people where, no matter how long it has been since last you saw them, you pick right up where you left off.

I noticed something this morning. As we discussed our children, our gardens, our crafting, our renovations. The contentment that I feel at home overcame the resentment that I've had at not being able to drive. The excitement I felt about our renovations, which waned with the eye surgery and recovery, reappeared. I felt my sense of self seeping back in. My passions reawakened. I felt a renewed surge of possibility. That I could be more patient and more grateful. That I could make the most of this time.

And I thought how wonderful friendships and tea are.

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I made this cake in anticipation of her visit. It smelt so good when it came out of the oven yesterday that Cohen and I just had to try it. I did manage to save some for today. I made it dairy free, as I am lactose intolerant, but you needn't. I will be making it again quite soon, as it was moist, fluffy and yummy!

Cinnamon Tea Cake

60 grams butter (I use Nuttelex with Olive oil)
1/2 cup sugar
1 egg lightly beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla essence
3/4 cup self raising flour
3 tablespoons plain flour
1/2 cup milk (I use soy milk)

+ a tablespoon of melted butter
half a tablespoon of sugar and
half a teaspoon of ground cinnamon mixed together

Pre-heat oven to 180 degrees celcius (350 degrees F)
Grease and line the base of a cake tin with baking paper

Beat butter and sugar until light and creamy. (I use an old mix master)
Add egg gradually while still beating, then beat in vanilla.
Add sifted flour and milk and fold in with a spoon until just mixed and smooth.
Pour in to tin and smooth top.

Bake for 30 mins, then check with skewer. (Edges should be lightly crispy and skewer should come out clean, though cake may look under cooked.)
Let cool a few minutes before inverting on a wire tray.
Brush with melted butter and sprinkle sugar and cinnamon mix over the top.

Pour a cup of tea or coffee and share with a friend.
Enjoy!

All's well

We left the dishes in the sink and the beds unmade and drove to the country to visit friends yesterday. The journey is always picturesque. The colours and the shapes seem uniquely Australian. The land flattens out. Houses become scarce and are replaced by trees and cattle. Mountains rise up, then after a bend in the road, seem to surround you. Here and there are weathered buildings, farming relics, hand made signs for manure, fruit, eggs or firewood. The sign posts are also worthy of note. Bannockburn. Shaws Pocket Rd. Black Soil Gully. Wonglepong. Bennoble. Boyland. Poetic names indeed. In a little under an hour we arrived in the small town of Canungra.

In the garden, and in the kitchen, there are reunions, talk and laughter. The children play while we drink tea. We wait for bread to bake and tend to the babies. We sit and talk of seasons, childhood, making, growing, building and the energy and possibilities building up towards Spring. We walk through the orchard and see it's potential. Examine the veggie garden for beauty and practicality. We realise that we've been friends since Cohen was the same age that Emerson is. We fill my car with fruit and plant cuttings before I leave. 

On the way home a loose grapefruit rolls around in my boot, bruising geranium leaves. Before my camera battery dies I pull over and snap a few photos. I stop again at a driveway stall. I heave bags of manure into my boot before continuing home with plans to work in my own garden. Both children are sleeping, all I can smell is geranium and Spring is not far off. For a moment all's well with the world.