Cross pollination

Hopefully a blog title that has grabbed your attention - but why and what does it mean you may be asking?

As some of you know I write, and I bake.

This evening I used my writing to promote my baking. Not by blogging or facebooking however. Much more scarily (!) I wrote a poem about my Valentine's Day cupcakes and recited it at the Coco Cafe Dial Up. In other words the open mic night where lots of very talented people write and sing and perform...

If you weren't there - and to be honest many of you were not - here is the poem for your enjoyment. You do need to imagine me standing there with my specs on shaking with nerves but somewhat emboldened by a very large glass (okay - two!) of red wine!

I will also post this on www.filledwithlovecupcakes.org and look forward to introducing some of you to each other!

Linda x

A poem about how to tell someone you love them....

I wanted to tell him I fancied his face

But struggled to think of the time and the place.

To be honest I thought that a kiss would be good

Or even a snog; I so definitely would.

I'm not going so far as to say I'd propose

One husband is all I'm allowed I suppose.

I'm joking of course - there's no mystery man

Keep listening and I will explain if I can.

My mum is the best - she's always been

The one that I turn to if people are mean.

Best friends are forever - I'm glad I have mine

When I need a good moan - and a bottle of wine.

And aren't there times when we all need to find

A present for someone who's been rather kind?

A nice box of chocolates, a bouquet of flowers,

Haven't we all been there searching for hours?

By now you may realise that all this commotion

Is simply some shameless and poor self promotion.

If you have a message, something to say

To someone you love on this Valentine's Day...

...then do it this time with a most special cake

Better than Mary, or Paul, or Nigella, or Delia, or Jamie can make...

It will come Filled With Love and ensure that you say

What needs to be said in the best possible way!

xx

It's been a while...

Writing has taken a back seat of late. Baking has taken over with a vengeance - every day a flurry of flour, a cloud of icing sugar and a sauna of a kitchen. Take Thursday for example - 72 cupcakes, 18 Halloween themed fairy cakes and the mother of all Devils Food Cakes. Both ovens fired up, two stand and one hand mixer whirring and both sinks full of dishes, bowls and implements.

All of this however belongs elsewhere - on www.filledwithlovecupcakes.org perhaps. This blog is more reflective, less about food and more about thoughts (tempted to take alliteration a step too far there but foughts really isn't what this is about...)

Last night a group of colleagues from Christian Aid reunited in the pub fondly known as the Old Man's Pub (OMP). On the one hand we did nothing special - the back room of a slightly grotty pub that sells horrid wine. No music, very few seats and nasty toilets.

On the other hand we did something very special indeed. We raised over £400 towards testing of an anti-cancer virus that could save thousands http://icancer.org.uk/

The reasons why we are fundraising for a clinical trial are many and complex. Especially since this drug could be an amazing breakthrough. In a nutshell, pharmaceutical companies are generally interested in research only when it looks likely it will produce a profit and in this case the research is some years away from that stage.

More than that however - the research team placed much of their research in the public domain, so they cannot patent it. Which means pharmaceutical companies cannot guarantee they will own the research and profit from it.

Money - the bible says something about the love of it being the root of evil, and on this occasion it definitely seems as though it is getting in the way of the trials that might see this drug released to help improve the life and life expectancy of many living with NETs (Neo Endocrine Tumours).

Last night however proved that for many people life and love and friendship are more important than money as they dug deep and gave generously. If enough of us do the same we CAN raise the money needed to trial this drug and save lives.

You can read more about it here http://www.telegraph.co.uk/health/9544400/Would-I-takean-untested-cancer-treatment-myself-Hellyes.html

Please do. Dom was a colleague when I worked at Christian Aid. He's a husband, father and all round great guy that I remember as the life and soul of every party. On the decks, playing some great tunes.

If you haven't already heard of NETs they are what ended the life of Steve Jobs. I don't want them to end Dom's life. I want to be at his 50th birthday. And his 60th, 70th and 80th. It cannot be right that this potentially life saving drug is locked away for lack of funding to trial it - let's put that right.

Spot The Difference

Yesterday we celebrated three family birthdays with Afternoon Tea at ours.

My brother in law took some photos which he transferred to my laptop this morning. Flicking through them just now I was drawn to one in particular as I vividly remembered a similar photo being taken a few years ago.

The image on the left above was taken in April 2009. On that occasion when I saw it I was filled with horror at the rib hump on my back. If you look carefully and note the position of the chrome back of the stool I am sitting on you will see how "scrunched up" I was from the waist up. As I often delight in telling people - where one item of underwear ended another begun!

Fast forward three years to the photo on  the right. No noticeable rib hump, a decent waist (with a gap between my top and bottom undies!) and I can slip easily into any off the peg dress.

I post this to give hope and encouragement to anyone considering or recovering from scoliosis surgery. Yes it is a massive challenge to go through and the pain is horrendous, sometimes for weeks if not months. But ultimately it is worth it if it means a better, straighter future.

Not everyone is a suitable candidate for surgery of course, and not everyone has the incredibly successful outcome I have been fortunate to benefit from.

But sometimes I believe it is good to simply share the good news and I'd like to give a big thank you and shout out to all the skilled surgeons and caring nurses, not to mention the patient physios, involved in scoliosis care.

Modern day miracle workers some might say.

Letting Go....

Two posts in one day. Unusual, not unheard of.

When I left Christian Aid I believed I could continue as the volunteer and supporter I used to be back in the day - before I joined the staff and enjoyed the rollercoaster ride that was being part of the directorate, the platform2 programme and the churches team.

I looked forward to volunteering with Christian Aid as an opportunity to reconnect with friends and colleagues, it never for one moment crossed my mind that this would not be a *good thing* to do.

On arrival at Greenbelt I fairly soon realised this was not to be the case. Ever felt like you're on the outside looking in? Not one of the *cool* kids? Watching a team/club you don't belong to in action and wishing you were a part of it....?

I tried - oh so hard - to let go. Of all the anger and upset and bitterness and rejection. Our compline service actually included a bit about that and I clenched my fists, tried hard to "let go" and hoped against hope it might have worked.

Clearly not as the very next day felt like I had picked it all up again - indeed I went so far as to tell the person who had led the service just what a failure I was.

His reply was simple yet significant. Sometimes we need to let go of one thing before we can let go of another...

I can't - or couldn't - let go of the anger, upset, yada yada yada, without first letting go of Christian Aid. That doesn't mean I can't support the organisation. It's a great agency doing fantastic work and deserves the support of us all.

But I am not on the staff and need to accept that, and move on. Perhaps having done that I will be in a better position to find another post - be it writing, baking, creating or stacking shelves....

Years ago I remember hearing how if you are hurt and wounded you need to let it scab over and heal. Don't scratch or pick at the scab - it will bleed again and delay the healing. One day when it is all healed you can perhaps go back to it and it won't hurt.

The advice often given when a relationship ends is to make a clean break. "We can never be friends - we've been lovers too long" and all that.....

Time to let go then and look to the future - which may well be bright and orange but perhaps not of the Christian Aid hue....

Saving Paradise

Greenbelt 2012. Saving Paradise. 

I'd looked forward to - longed for even - the Festival all year. Ever since I left Christian Aid having been on the working group planning for what was always going to be a fantastic presence in Cheltenham.

We arrived full of excitement and anticipation, in particular I saw this as an opportunity to reconnect with friends and ex-colleagues, still feeling myself to be part of the movement for change and the amazing organisation that is Christian Aid.

More of my personal angst elsewhere - this one is all about the mud...

An apocalyptic downpour on Saturday afternoon, on top of an already saturated racecourse, led to flooding and a soggy boggy quagmire such as I have never before witnessed. Six inches of swampy water around and inside the entrance to the venue reduced footfall dramatically and as the picture shows the situation was much the same for many of the centre course traders and venues.

The grandstand side of the Festival was able to carry on regardless with a certain sense of cheery calmness of the type currently popularised on greetings cards in the style of wartime posters. Meanwhile punters were stopping at the end of the walkway to the centre of the racecourse and turning back - even The Jesus' Arms with its fine wines and ales could not tempt them to walk on the water.

Is it okay to admit the situation was ghastly? That in spite of looking forward to the Festival for months I was miserable, disappointed and ready to go home...?

Surrounded by jollity, positivity and punters making the best of it, not allowing the weather to spoil their enjoyment of Greenbelt, I felt at times like a moaning miserable whingebag. Perhaps I was.

But reflecting this morning, in the comfort of a hotel after a decent breakfast, hot shower and great night's sleep I felt emboldened enough to scribble a few notes.

I believe it is okay to admit the situation was horrid.

Without in any way minimising the suffering of others throughout the world it's okay to say that suffering is a part of life and small scale suffering of the kind we experienced this weekend is a reminder of this.

Is it possible that by denying the reality of our own small taste of suffering we are denying ourselves the opportunity to share in the experience of others who suffer more deeply?

Where do we draw the line?

I've read about flooding in Bangladesh for many years now. I've seen photos of people up to their necks in dirty floodwater and have on an intellectual level acknowledged their suffering.

But after wading through mud this weekend I finally - get it. As far as it is possible to from the warm dry sofa on which I am now sitting. I could escape, they cannot, and I have some small understanding of what it is they are going through.

If I deny how horrid the cold, slimy mud was. If I minimise the inconvenience, the soul destroying damp and damage it caused; if I keep calm and carry on with a smile and a cupcake - is it possible that I in some way minimise what my brothers and sisters in Bangladesh are suffering?

It's late, I am tired, and articulating this is not easy but it has to be done - if corrected tomorrow.

I will go to bed thankful for a comfortable mattress, hot water, good food and the life that I have - with a prayer for those who struggle with so much worse than we experienced this weekend.

Community Matters

I was going to write about the Olympics, having spent the morning at a historic and iconic venue and never having imagined I would hear the words "... will serve from the Downing Street end...."

However that will have to wait since another matter has been buzzing in my brain for a few days now and unless I pin it down on the virtual paper I fear it will be lost in the ether never to be discussed or debated further.

So... let's begin with a cake - or twelve...

Many of you know that I am now baking cakes for a living - along with writing of course. I create bespoke, "posh", (or as one of my friends put it "expensive...") cupcakes for birthdays, anniversaries, new babies, leaving dos, celebrations, commemorations and pretty much any other occasion  you can think of. I do cupcakes by post too - for less than the price of an (expensive) bouquet you can send a gorgeous box of hand made bespoke cupcakes especially designed for the occasion.

I digress - and advertise.

I now supply cupcakes for a new cafe in our community, which for those of  you not in the know is Croxley Green in Hertfordshire. The very same village mentioned by John Betjeman and in which brownies still dance around the maypole in the annual Revels on the Green.

There is so much to say about this gorgeous cafe that even me - so rarely lost for words - does not know where to begin. Not just the calm relaxing decor, the delicious menu, and the best coffee for miles. Much more than that - the sense of community that it is already engendering.

I deliver cakes two or three times a week - they are truly freshly home made (I advertise again...) On each occasion I stop for a coffee and catch up. The door opens constantly (but not of course draftily) with a stream of people all of whom are greeted like old friends. Many of them are.

I've spent hours already in Coco. I've met and chatted with managers and mothers, contractors, carpenters, commuters. Retired and unemployed, everyone with a story to tell - many of which I will in the coming months.

Every community needs a Coco because Community Matters. Pubs aren't everyone's cup of tea - to coin a pun-like phrase. But Coco is - especially if you love a Girlie Grey! But step into a community cafe and you can also step out of your daily life, relax and enjoy the company of friends old and new. Yes this sounds cheesy but think of Roy's Rolls (Corrie fans) or whatever they call the caff in 'Enders. It's a meeting place, where news and gossip - of the best kind - is shared and friendships made and strengthened.

If you live in Croxley be sure to drop into Coco - on the Watford Road opposite the Red House and next to the Dentist. Plenty of parking but why not take a stroll there and burn off the calories in one of their delicious cupcakes?

Did I mention I was baking for them?

http://filledwithlovecupcakes.org/2012/07/09/exclusive-to-coco-croxley-green/

Three Months!

Hot on the heels of yesterday's post about not having written for three weeks I've woken up to the realisation it is now three months since I left my "proper job".

Time flies when you're having fun - guess I must be having lots lately as no idea at all where that's gone.

Someone said to me at the weekend "would you rather be doing this - or back at (insert name of place I used to work...)?"

The answer didn't come easily, "oh this for sure" didn't trip off my tongue as if this was what I was born for. I had to stop, think, consider, and reply hesitantly.

The issue being I'd have preferred to have had the choice. Some might say it can take having circumstances thrust upon us to shift us out of our comfort zone and into new adventures. Others might point to my control freakery and say "well you would, wouldn't you?"

Personally I would have preferred not to have gone through the agony and angst; the uncertainty and indecision. I'd have felt happier knowing that leaving the security and friendships that had built up over eight years was my decision. And it would have been good to plan for that properly, to prepare for the next chapter and to grieve for the last one.

All of which isn't to say that those things didn't happen - the planning, preparation and grieving. But being thrown into the situation escalated everything, contracted the timeline (Is that a proper expression or born out of hearing a childbirth story on Daybreak as I write...?!) and forced me to make choices quickly.

Or did I ever actually make those choices? Looking back when did I decide to "be" a writer and cake maker? Let's not go there or my inner control freak will rear her ugly head and we'll be back where we were!

No picture - have to be a cake then....did I already post these?