The Baynhams

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In my family it is considered very important to remember and acknowledge the anniversaries of the death of family members. All through my childhood I remember going to Mass as a family on whatever day marked the death of one of my grandparents. My Dad's father died before Dad even met my mum. But each of us kids know the details of the story of the day of his death, the unexpected trip home my Dad made on the spur of the moment to stay in his family home for the night, being woken in the middle of the night to run for the priest, running through the dark, cold January night with only one shoe on. I feel like I was there. I feel the emotion every time my Dad retells the story. I never met my Grandad Sheeran but there is a connection through the story telling that keeps me bonded to him.

Today marks the death of my Dad's mother. I rang home and spoke to my Dad today and he started the familiar story telling. Year after year on this day we retell the same story. Not of the story of the day of her death but of my relationship with her. I was only young when she died but I have heard the story of the box of Smarties so many times that it plays in my head like a clip from an old movie. I do not know if I truly have a memory of her or if the story telling has placed it there.

I waited at the front window of our house looking out for my Granny Sheeran to join us for Sunday dinner. There would be a knock on the window and a box of Smarties would be waving at me through the glass. My Mum was busy in the kitchen cooking and preparing a big family roast dinner. I, being young, would have wanted to eat the sweets before my lunch. This won Granny squeals of excitement and the pleasure of breaking rules that is the right of a grandparent. It also caused a minor flurry of irritation to my Mum who knew I would not eat properly if I was full of chocolate.

All too soon my Granny was gone. How many meals were actually disrupted when you look at the big picture? Were the memories worth it? Even my Mum made sure to use this story as an example to me when I became a mother myself. She told me not to sweat the small stuff. To enjoy the pleasure that Grandparents bring.

Each year this story is retold to me by my Dad. It makes me stop to appreciate a little bit of my history. I don't know if in other families it is normal to remember the dates of these anniversaries? Do you mark them in your calendar? Do you ring home? Do you have the same stories told and retold?

Is it an Irish thing?

Or just a Sheeran one....

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...eating liquorice laces together!

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My brother has two gorgeous little boys. It is so wonderful to see the bond between our kids and theirs. There is a natural feeling of belonging, a feeling of being connected. Our kids feel so protective over their little cousins and love being looked up to by these two little people. There has never once been a power struggle over a toy or tears over a disagreement. Maybe it is because my brothers boys are so placid in temperament. Maybe nature has a way of preventing us from killing our relatives!

Here is a photo that I took when we last caught up. It gives me a warm fuzzy feeling.

Maybe that's just because all my kids are finally tucked up in bed.

Maybe it's the first glass of Merlot kicking in...!

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My brother brought us some Japanese sweets when he was home last month. The box was cute and the wrappers funny. We had no idea what to expect them to taste like. I used them as bribery to get the kids to hurry up and finish their homework. It worked!

We unwrapped the paper to look inside. They were semi-opaque, squidgy lumps of soft jelly covered in very fine sweet white powder. They squished between our fingers and stretched before we braved to pop them in our mouths.

They tasted strangely sweet and neutral. We couldn't agree on any one description. Floral? Mildly Turkish delight?

If I could read Japanese I might have been able to work it out from the ingredients list.

Has anyone else ever seen or eaten sweets like this...?

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On our recent holiday we had great fun going camel riding along the beach. The man who owned the camels was such a funny man and talked non-stop teaching us all about camels and how they were introduced to Australia, how many of them were in the wild, what they ate, how old they were when he retired them....
He was a mine of information. And then he told us this little gem....

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Last night was the South African dinner. Before I start to tell you what we ate I have to admit that I thought I had tried most cultures food styles. Even the kids have eaten Mediterranean, Greek, Indian, Chinese, Japanese, Mexican, Thai, Australian... and lots more besides. As we drove to our friends house the kids asked if we knew what was for dinner and I had not the faintest idea. Not only have I never really eaten African food but I didn't even know what it might be. I have one friend from Zimbabwe who is a great cook but other than a curried fish pie most of what she has cooked has been Australian style food. I was slightly apprehensive that the kids might be a bit fussy if the food looked unusual. As we pulled into the driveway I had my fingers crossed and gave the kids the pep talk to be polite and not to make a fuss if they didn't like something.

I needn't have worried. It was a great evening. As soon as we arrived the kids went downstairs to play together. There was a mixture of 7 boys and girls and ages between 7 and 12 they all got on like a house on fire and just invented game after game to play. They were fed traditional South African children's food which was sausages in bread rolls. Perfect! Then they disappeared back downstairs to play and we ignored the screams of laughter from below as we topped the wine glasses up and got ready to tuck into our South African feast!

Lucy and Rob had gone to so much trouble to prepare some traditional foods that are very time intensive in their preparation. Lucy had made her own Biltong which is slow dried, salted and spiced strips of meat. It was very similar to Beef Jerky in its texture and it really tasted amazing. Rob explained that it was typically brought to football games as a snack to eat because a little goes a long way and takes quite a bit of chewing to eat!

Rob cooked big spiral coils of dense sausages called Boerewors on the bbq (braai in South Africa) All this was eaten outside in the crisp, cold winter night air with us wrapped in layers to keep warm. The deck on the back of their house overlooks a large area of bush land so all we could see were the stars and the shadows of the gum trees. It was magic.

We moved inside and were served a Biriyani layered with rice, meat and nuts with poppadums and mint chutney. This was washed down with generous amounts of South African red wine which flowed with as much enthusiasm as the conversation. After the main meal we had Koeksisters which are plaited deep fried pastries that had been coated in a shiny syrup. They were sweet and delicious and went straight to my hips!

The evening was finished off by tucking into a traditional version of a lemon meringue pie that is creamier and sweeter than I have had before. It used condensed milk in the lemon curd and had a lightness to it that made it like eating soft clouds. We sipped a liqueur called Amarula that was similar to Irish Baileys and drank tea and coffee and carried on laughing and talking as long as the kids played.

Finally after midnight Gareth was snorning on the sofa and Rhiannon found her way onto Byron's lap and told him she was going to collapse if she didnt lay in her own bed. Sian was still downstairs and in no hurry to head home! As we left we were handed a bag of dried rusks. We were told to have them for breakfast and dunk them in our tea and coffee. We have and they were good! Kind of like we had when we were kids and our mums would soak them in hot milk as a baby food. Mmmmm!

The best thing about having a mixture of friends from different cultures is the ability to share things with them that we would otherwise never experience. Some of the food last night I had never heard of, never mind eaten. More importantly to me was the snippets of the culture that I learnt by listening to the stories told as we ate. South Africa is a country with a turbulent past and not everyone's reasons for emigrating are as rosy as ours. You can read all the history books you want or watch some Hollywood movies but the stories that come from individual people and families can show you a side to history that you may never have known existed. I'm really glad to be living in such a multi-cultural country and to have made some great international friends.

I am looking forward to the big finale of the three international nights: The Aussie style BBQ! If you are reading this Maree I would like to place my order for shrimps on the barbie and a monster Pavlova.

Bring in on!

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Do you remember when I told you about the dinner party idea that my friends came up with? One Irish meal, one Australian and one South African?

Well last month we had the Irish meal here at my house. The rules for the other two families were to just turn up and we would supply everything. They didn't listen. Although I cooked all the different Irish courses they came laden down with Irish Whiskey, Irish cream liqueur and Irish beers.

Tonight is the South African family's meal. We had no idea what to bring with us so we went shopping. We found South African wine and beer easily enough at a local bottle shop. I had another idea for something that the kids could share.

Here are a few clues...
                                      

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While on holidays we went to see a Koala Hospital where sick and injured Koalas are kept for anything from a few days to permanently. It was a very natural bush environment and you had to look closely to actually see the Koalas balanced precariously on the high branches...














We found out all sorts of weird and wonderful facts. Like how they have very thick pads of fat on their behinds. After seeing the branches they balance on for hours at a time I can see why they need it!








Eventually they coax them down for some milk from a syringe. They look very cute and cuddly but we were warned to be careful of their claws which are designed to cling on the branches but can accidentally curl around an unsuspecting collar bone.

Ouch!

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Today is French Bastille Day. The cafe in a rainforest we visited while on holidays had a French chef. They were celebrating all things French for the month of July. The staff wore stripes and berets. The menu had Escargots and Canard. I stuck to Chicken and Avocado sambos but had a cappuccino to feel decadent. Today I send out a big hello to anyone based in France.

A very special  "Bonjour" goes out to Corey who writes the wonderful Tongue in Cheek and my namesake Gina who is temporarily living in France with her beautiful twins while her husband is working there.

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