I am constantly being reminded of my childhood. The roads are quiet, you can hear birdsong, kids are bouncing balls against the side of their houses and middle aged men are washing their cars on a Sunday morning.
I know we are constantly being told that our mental health is going to suffer from this but I expect that for some people, like me, it will be healing. Modern life is very stressful. We are under so much pressure to do so much; to be busy all the time. There is just so much information for our brains to file that they can easily get overloaded and go a bit holey.
Right now, there is only one thing to think about. Okay, I get that it’s one big scary thing and that most people never give death a moment’s consideration but it is only one thing.
The way we are eating reminds me of my childhood too. Because we are not ‘popping’ to the shops or getting a takeaway our meals are properly planned and follow a routine. Monday: cold meat and salad and Panorama. Friday: Fish and Gardener’s World. Sunday: Roast dinner and a pudding. It helps us with a routine, so that we know what day of the week it is. My daughter had mentioned that everyone seemed to be having old school puddings in lockdown.
I love an old fashioned pudding. You can’t beat a crumble, jam roly-poly, bread and butter pud, a spotted dick or a proper apple pie. However, she really wanted what everyone seems to be making: a cheap sponge with icing and sprinkles plus custard, so that’s what we had.
“I loved school dinners.”
“This is so good.”
“I’ve never really understood before, when people rave about food they ate as a child. I must be getting old.”
In our house, we are all getting old and there is an appeal of a food memory taking us back to the carefree days of our childhood, before we tried to squeeze too much in our brain or thought that we could die.
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