What my week is like
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Last Saturday:
Beautifully sunny. I wanted to get there early – we always arrive there a bit late than desired (around 9:30) & I fear that I miss out on some of the early customers, the types that seem to have a shopping mission like for a party that night & are looking to buy big cakes.
So the alarm clock goes off at 7am. To my devious pleasure, it was my turn to wake my toddler up – normally it’s the other way around, with him tapping my face continuously & to my annoyance until I wake up from my deepest of sleep that my body needs more of.
The plan was to leave at 8, but it ends up being 8:30. Getting him dressed, brushing his teeth (which is currently a nightmare with tears), getting myself ready, eat a bit of breakfast, loading the goods in to the car… D drives everytime, bless him – he only complained only once within this last year, & that was when he was fed up after a careless car hit his rear lights while stopping at a signal.
Once there at the market (where the stall structure is already up & is supplied with the table), it takes 30 minutes to set up my goods. I had a big puffa coat on, which makes me look like a Michelin Man, a Mini Me version of, but it’s difficult to move my arms efficiently, so for the ‘set up’ I took it off. I was moving around anyway so I didn’t feel too cold.
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BUT, from around 12 I started to feel ill. My throat hurt & I was hotting up. Drowsiness & feverishness. I ask for the strongest medicine from the pharmacy. My ears started to ring, & at this point I thought I might faint (which, my close friends & family would tell you is quite commonplace – I’ve fainted in clubs, bars, pubs & on the street… although these were due to alcohol & lack of food in the stomach! Just one glass at the wrong time can do it).
I ask Bart, my stall neighbour on my left to help me with the stall. Such a nice guy. Chef/ owner Rogerio from Armadillo made me hot lemon & honey. But by 3pm I was still not feeling any better & Zita urges me to call D for help. He was at Barbican which is not so far away, so he came to the rescue straight away. He helped me pack up, & we left with still quite a few items left.
By the time we were in the car, I had lost my voice completely – which D jokes is actually rather nice for a change! Pah!
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This week, I’d like to write about how my week goes:
Monday & Tuesday & Wednesday:
We go to Mother & Toddler Groups. Monday & Wednesday is to the English one, & on Tuesday it is a Japanese one where we get to sing songs, & do many other Japanesey activities. This way our Kids can experience a Japanese environment to not to forget its language & culture.
Wednesday night:
After my Kid goes to sleep, I do some chocolate work such as tempering & molding the mendiants. I also fiddle about with various bits & bobs like prepare the food trays, get the bags ready, etc. It’s usually 9pm to 11pm.
Thursday afternoon:
We go shopping for the fresh ingredients like raspberries, eggs, butter, cream. I go with my Kid, & it is fun but slightly stressful. He is at a stage where he wants to ‘help‘ me, y’know ‘be mummy’s little helper‘ (which is sweet), but infact I worry that he might knock a glass jar from the shelf. Or start putting all sorts in to the trolly until its madness. There is me shouting his name loud, trying to keep control… So mumsy, I know… I remember wincing at ’em mums when I was young & single, thinking ‘Can’t you control your own kid’ & ‘I’ll never be like that when I become a mother’. *Just wait til you’ve got kids…*
– After that the tart dough is made & clingfilmed for the vital fridge-rest for atleast 6 hours. I also pipe & roll the ganache for the truffles. It is kept in the fridge so that I can temper the chocolate for coating them at night.
Thursday night:
Once D sends our Kid to sleep, the kitchen marathon begins (I find that it really is a sport – my kitchen is designed badly & I end up circling the table in the middle of the room – just like the film ‘Kitchen Stories‘). I roll the tart casings, make the Gateaux Basque dough, prepare the tins for the chocolate cakes, etc.
Friday:
My parents look after my child. They tend to get out of the house & go to a shopping centre like Brent Cross, to Activity Centres, or go to a park from the morning. I am very lucky. I know it & I appreciate it. I can bake without interuption. When they return home around 2pm, my Kid is happily napping in the car seat after a good day out, who I then lift out of the car slowly & carry to bed.
– My day is spent whipping up a storm in the kitchen. It’s usually 9am to 12pm (with lunch & dinner breaks inbetween).
Saturday:
Market 9am – 4pm. Most of the time I go straight home, but once in a while I might have friends who would visit me & we have a drink in the local called The Dove which is on the market street. Or visit friends’ place for a bit with D & Junior.
Sunday:
The weekend day. We tend to make the most of it & do family stuff like go to a nice park together… I would prefer to have a Sunday-lie-in but it’s just impossible with our Kid waking us up early & promptly no matter what… *sigh*…