My Mother's Christmas Cake

This morning I slid a large glass bowl from the refrigerator. It was brimming with dried fruit - golden Chinese sultanas, currants, raisins, cranberries and candied peel - shiny with cherry brandy. I lifted off the wrap, stuck my nose into the bowl and inhaled deeply. The aroma reached my toes.

I carefully laid the bowl on the kitchen bench where the winter sun had made it warm. I then slid a large spoon down the side of the glass bowl and lifted the gleaming fruit up and over, berries and fruit tumbling and rolling, drunken and fat and glistening sweetly like a bowl of precious, aromatic jewels. This motion affects my heart.

I then put on Christmas music, tied on an apron, lit some incence and began talking to my mother. As I do each Christmas, I tell her how much I am missing her - still as much as ever, even after 18 years. Then I tell her how surprised I am that I will spend the rest of my life without her, as though I've only just been told this news. Then I tell her about the kids and my husband and about our lives and I talk to her of my ups and downs and I ask her advice, as though she were sitting opposite me, tilting a warm cup of tea to her lips. I close my eyes and I can see her smiling.

I put the kettle on and made a cup of tea. Then I cried and cried. And then I stopped and wiped my eyes because mum's Christmas cake needs joy mixed into it, not sadness. The fruit giggled at me in the bowl. It was drunk and happy. I eyed off the cherry brandy for a moment, then poured some tea.

Next, it was the flour, powdery and light, sifted with allspice, cinnamon and baking soda. I love to bang the side of the sifter with my hand and watch the flour poof in white clouds against the morning sun, before settling into dust. In another bowl, the butter had been resting, silky and melty at the edges from the winter sun on the window pane. I plonked a cup of tightly packed, sandy brown sugar into the yellow nest and whipped till creamy, then added eggs, one, two, three, four. Mix mix blend, all the time thinking of the end result, the tang on my tongue, the sweetness of the fruit, the roundness of the spice, the fragrance of the brandy - I can still taste my mother's Christmas cake, even decades later.

I can remember sneaking into the pantry when she wasn't looking, quietly prising open the big square tin, breathing in the blend of fruity aromas and metal from the cake tin, feeling the tang in my nostrils, the release of saliva under my tongue. Then, peeking around the door to make sure no one was coming, I'd snaffle a small slice with the tiny knife she left in there. A small slice so she wouldn't know I'd been in there, this wee little cake-eating mouse. A small slice here and there, here and there until it completely evaporated. That cake never lasted long.

It was a joy to me, that cake. It typified my mum and who she was. Always sunny, always warm, always rich and fragrant and smelling of face creams. Feeling that fruitcake taste spread across my tongue, even just remembering that taste, evokes such strong memories of my mother, coupled with the joy and wonder pervading the air around Christmas. The memories induced are so strong and so precious, it is like she is standing right next to me.

And so I have adopted this practise, of Christmas fruitcake making - a practise that only a real baker will understand, for there is something about baking that is primal, that takes us to our baser selves, to our heart.

My Christmas cakes are my mother's heart.

So, the cake is sitting in the centre of the oven right now, rising and baking into a luscious, edible memento of my love for my mum. When I take it from the oven, I will cool it, wrap it, rest it and keep it until Christmas Eve, when we will slice it well before Santa tracks down Beijing on his radar. We'll also have it with coffee for breakfast under the Christmas tree. The kids will snaffle it too; both of them adore it, as though some small part of that cake is infused with my mother's spirit. They delight in this cake and it brings me such joy to see them savour it and honour it and treasure it the way I do, especially as my mother died well before they were born.

But life has an entrancing way of blending elements together so that even if we miss each other on this earthly plane, we carry within us the memories, the genes, the instinct of those who have gone before us. Memory comes from scent comes from breezes comes from pressure changes comes from action and thoughts and sights and beliefs and Christmas cakes and human beings and baubles on Christmas trees. They amalgamate. They become one, and one in the same.

This is how a daughter can place so much importance in a Christmas cake.

It may be a small thing to others. It may be a simple thing to do - but for me, baking this cake is an unparalleled way to hold mum close to all of us. To honour her memory and in this way, keep her alive forever.

I'm off to stand in the kitchen, right near the warmth of the oven, and sniff the fragrant air.

Happy Christmas, Mum.

little: bits. Advent Calendar Tree

Advent calendars have been around for more than 150 years and originated in Germany as an amusing way to count down the days to Christmas. People would mark chalk lines on a door to count the days, and this charming tradition soon morphed into a calendar-style by the late 19th century.

In lieu of a regular advent calendar, where kids pop open the cardboard doors to find a sliver of chocolate inside, why not create a memorable Advent Calendar Tree? You need 24 small boxes of varying sizes, in which you can hide all manner of sweet treats and Christmassy surprises. Wrap each box festively and tie on a number. These numbers were printed on white paper, glued to card stock and cut out with a 2 inch hole punch.

Dot the tree with your sweetly wrapped gifts and watch the kids delight in opening a surprise every evening from 1 to 24 December. If you have more than one child, place the appropriate number of treats inside each box and have the kids take turns opening the presents. Plenty of practise for D-Day!

 

Photographs by Tania McCartney

Family Portrait

Our family recently decided to do a photo shoot. I have always categorically avoided them; mainly because I fear the old “fake grins and plastered-down hair against the seedy backdrop” result, reminiscent of something you’d find in Great Aunt Petunia’s dusty old attic. It would be just my luck.

So it was with trepidation that we entered the hutongs around Hou Hai last Saturday, wearing our Sunday best and a hope for the best.

What a refreshing experience.

We jumped on hutong walls, ran along cobbled lanes, munched on crabapple toffees and hid under the red tassels of jerri cabs. The kids giggled with delight – with real smiles and not much posing. The result? A fresh, bright and sweet memento of a family who never manages a group shot without someone being the grumble-bum.

And yes, yes… I think I’ll have it made into a family Christmas card, yet another thing I swore I’d never do.

Now that will make Great Aunt Petunia happy…

Travelogue: Playing Misty in Hangzhou

Supposedly the most beautiful city in China, Hangzhou shrouded itself in a glamorous white cloak for the duration of my recent far-too-brief stay this week. It was nonetheless beautiful. There is a saying in Hangzhou that goes something like this...

Clear day in Hangzhou - good.
Rain in Hangzhou - better.
Mist in Hangzhou - best.

This city could look beautiful caked in mud.

Colours of Hangzhou

Although my visit was brief, I managed to enjoy some fabulous shopping along He Feng Lu - Hangzhou is the silk capital of China and even hosts a Silk Museum. Tea is another speciality. Longjing tea is renowned and ridiculously expensive (depending on the grade) though I did manage to snaffle 75g for around RMB150. Hangzhou also hosts the National Tea Museum.

Another highlight was Lingyin Temple - or Soul's Retreat monastery, with surly (yes, you read it right) monks in butter yellow robes. The serene and beautiful monastery featured egg-yolk yellow walls and luscious landscaping, but the highlight was the thousand year old Buddha carvings in the rock faces around the temple. Just very, very special.

Then there is West Lake - which was quite a clouded mystery for the most part, being shrouded in its lovely white cape. It was nonetheless special to see flat dark brown wooden boats materialise through the white, sliding across the shiny water silently.

The leaves were turning – that egg-yolk yellow and that gorgeous luminous red you find on Japanese maples. So despite the muted white of the air, these foreground colours made the white even more pretty, like a muted lens on an aging moviestar wearing red Chanel lipgloss.

The 1000 year old structures around the lake also lent a dreamlike, Oriental air. We visited the Three Pools Mirroring the Moon island in the middle of West Lake – which has lakes on an island in the middle of the lake. Got it? Very special.

Mist or no mist, you must must go.

Read more about my travels under the "Travelogue:" headings.

Making the bed and putting dishes in the sink are not only nifty ways for kids to earn pocket money. They are also skills your children will count on to become organised, self-sufficient adults. 

It’s so easy to fluff my daughter’s doona and get it just so. It only takes a few minutes. And all the breakfast dishes are sorted in one fell swoop. Anyway, she’s out the door for the school bus at 8:30am. She doesn’t have time to be fussing with such minor things. I’m doing her a favour. Or am I?

 

What seem like trivial rituals parents undertake in a bid to keep a tidy house could, in fact, be essential building blocks to creating a self-reliant and capable adult fifteen or twenty years from now. 

Withholding these tasks from our children could well be a disadvantage. Instead of scooping up these minimalistic tasks and lumping them in the "quicker and easier" basket, consider relinquishing a little perfectionism and speed, and so give your child a valuable way to contribute to the household and their own feeling of importance. Kids like to feel needed. There is also the ‘work-ethic’ idea – an attitude which allows us to not only strive for a better life, but to achieve immense satisfaction and happiness from our efforts. A work ethic is something that needs to be built into children when they’re young. 

Showing them they must put in effort to reap reward is a skill that is as essential to success and happiness as the air we breathe. Although pocket money is a nice sweetener, tempting your child to help around the house may not be the easiest thing to. Here are some fun ways to make this educational ‘chore ‘easier.

 

START YOUNG

Even toddlers can pull up the covers, put their toys in the toybox and put a cup in the sink. They also respond extremely well to small tasks like setting the table and putting clothes in the washing machine. It gives them a sense of purpose. And if it starts young, it stays stronger for longer.

KEEP A SCHEDULE

A fun way to encourage children is to create a written schedule, clearly marked with each child’s name, so they can tick off their weekly jobs and feel as though they’ve really accomplished something. Put it somewhere eye-catching so all the family can see their special achievements.

MAKE IT A GAME

Do you remember Mary Poppins? Spit spot! All manner of items flew lickety-split onto their shelves, and even beds kindly made themselves. We may not have such luxurious powers, but an attitude of fun can work absolute magic to get a job done. Complete chores while hopping on one leg, running on the spot or have one arm behind your back. Silly and challenging, but fun!

MONEY ALTERNATIVE If you would prefer a cashless reward for your children, a sticker chart is a great way to keep track of their progress. Each completed job is awarded with a sticker, and once they reach their goal, they earn a treat. Treats could be a trip to the beach, playing scrabble with Dad or having a slumber party. Place the sticker chart in a prominent place so everyone can see it and admire your child’s progress. MAKE MINE MUSIC Sing songs, whistle or tidy up to music – the louder and more up-tempo, the better. Make sure it’s music they like and have sing-a-longs as you move. Music can really make people move, especially kids! RACE TIME If you have more than one child, set up a race… whoever gets it done first wins. If one child is involved, they will have to either race you (kids love this!) or get it done in a set amount of time (without being sloppy!). The winner gets winner status only; no prizes or it will defeat the feeling of accomplishment. ALL GROWN UP Make younger kids feel grown up as they work. Give them aprons or a special item to wear, and hand over life-size equipment, which they’ll get a real kick out of using (they love to vacuum!). For older kids, ask them to do things that involve a level of trust and make it clear that only children with responsibility and supreme agility could perform such a task. Make it known to others how well they then perform said task (even if they don’t do it so well!).

JUST ASK

Ask your children what chores they prefer. As adults, we have our least favourite jobs to do – children are the same. If your child prefers one job over another, they are far more likely to complete it with enthusiasm and regularity.

BE POSITIVE

While you can certainly guide, never try to criticise or redo a child’s cleaning attempt. It will make them despondent and reluctant to try again. And don’t forget to praise kids when they accomplish a task without your nagging them, however, don’t overdo it. Eventually, these tasks should become a given rather than a way to seek approval.

little: play. Playing Around

Remember when… 

These old-fashioned games will have you winging back to the past. It’s a sure bet your children will love playing them as much as you did. Don’t wait for a party – kids will enjoy these any time.

little: bits. ...it's the little things

Seeing things Did you know that every colour has an ‘inner’ colour? This reflective or ‘opposite’ colour can be seen when we get our photos developed - on our negatives - where our blue jeans magically appear orange. Try the example below.

c o l o u r s

little: Editor Letter

This has been some big, pregnant plan.

Indeed, there has definitely been an active, kicking fire in the belly to produce a gorgeous, practical ezine resource for parents who want to make life beautiful and lots of fun for their children, whilst also making life easier and more inspiring for mum and dad.

And here it is. The birth of my ezine - little.

Like pregnancy, it has been a journey fraught with hope, anticipation, dedication, expectation and an overwhelming feeling of love. Inside its heart, I want to share with you ideas to simplify and beautify the childhood of your babies – from birth to 12 years – to make their journey loving, active, inspired, creative, joyful and memorable.

Like a newborn baby, I hope to bring you much of what a new baby brings. I hope you spend sleepless nights deliberating on new and better ways to do things. I hope you find inspiration in learning and developing ideas while at the same time playing the role of teacher to your children. I hope you come away with ideas you have never heard or thought of before.

May little. inspire you to do better, to make more, to ask, to tell, to share - and to truly acknowledge the amazing parent you are. And most of all, may it help you appreciate and enjoy every moment of your children’s glorious childhood journey.

little: Launch Issue Front Cover

This is a draft peoples, a draft! It doesn't really exist in the stores (please, Mr Murdoch, please!). I began the magazine last April, so it started with an Easter theme and just sort of went on from there.

little.

...big ideas for little ones

little: Magazine Launch

little.

...big ideas for little ones

This is a draft peoples, a draft! It doesn't really exist in the stores (please, Mr Murdoch, please!). I began the magazine last April, so it started with an Easter theme and just sort of went on from there.

Around 18 months ago, I decided to write my own magazine. I mean - I write a lot, but this was an ambitious undertaking. 

You see, I love magazines. 

I devour magazines. See my some addictions vol.1 posting for more information on that fact. 

So I ordered how-to books from amazon.com and learned how to create a magazine. As you do. 

 The trouble with me is that I want to do Everything. I want to learn to design, layout, market, write, edit, promote, create - every aspect of the magazine industry. 

So I took responsibility for every aspect of my magazine, and I created it. 

I called it little. 

Seeing little sitting in a shiny stack on the lower racks of every newsagent in Australia may still be a pipedream, however, I have every intention of contacting Rupert to see if he can squeeze me in somewhere on the Australia-wide magazine rack (and given the amount of market research I've put into little, I do believe there is room, Mr Murdoch - lashings of money-making room! wa ha ha ha haaaa!!!).

Convincing a magazine magnate an idea is indeed marketable, and subsequently hopping on the campaign trail, is a little hard to do from China (alas) so that hopefully surmountable task will be set for when I return in 2009. 

In the meantime, you - my dear readers - will now be able to to sip a drip of my little pipedream! Yes, for a limited time only, coming to Writer in Beijing, is a glimpse of all my hard work - a focused, driven, enlightened time which, even if little never makes it big, was one of the most joyful four months of my creative life. 

 If you like, please let me know. Anything to help my 2009 Campaign Mr Murdoch Trail!

I today published Winter Tree Books online, a website dedicated to my talented and beloved grandfather, Wilfred Winter (1916-1993).

Through this site, I hope to promote my grandfather's works as well as my own, and I one day hope to have them for sale. I also want to promote the talent of budding writers, journalists, artists and photographers, who are starting out in their industry.

See http://www.wintertreebooks.com/ for more.

Plog

9.21am: I can't call the muck outside my window smog or fog or even pollution any more. No one really knows what it is. It could be smog, it could be fog, it could be intensely high levels of pollution (no...!), it could be smoke, haze, soot, cloud, steam, vapour, sand, grit, brume, murk, mist or fumes. It could even be pea soup, depending on your country of origin.

So - mysterious creature - I shall call thee Plog.

Whatever it is, it is a living, breathing animal that sucks the breath out of our lungs, leaving them pained and strained for oxygen. It's not pleasant. It creases our skin. It leaves sooty marks on the sweet, plump and spongey walls of our bronchial sacs - that is, unless they are already coated heavily with the stodgy mucus our bodies inevitably ooze in valiant battle against these elements.

So, today I share with you the view from my window. And then the view from my same window on the third of November.

Please be advised that the third of November was a unique day in the life of the Air in Beijing. U-N-I-Q-U-E being the word that is classified as: -adjective, limited in occurrence to a given class, situation or area: "...a rare genre of weather unique to Beijing..."

Above pictures represent before and after shots, with the before shot being the inevitable winner by default. And anyone who tells you otherwise is living inside a sunshiney lollipop vortex of an alternative Beijing where pixies flit from Birds Nest to Cube, holding the chubby hands of the Beijing Friendlies.

Cough! hack! meek smile... gasp.

John Svoronos Art Exhibition

Untitled, oil on canvas - the guest favourite and top selling piece

We were proud to present the work of Australian artist John Svoronos today on the outskirts of Beijing near Dashanzi international art space.

The space near Dashanzi

Around 70 people turned out from the ex-pat and local community to view John's art - a fusion of luscious colour, classic strokes, dream-like nudes dancing in floral splashes, serene photography showcasing shadows and reflections, and some in-your-face drama.

Some local helpers

Guests nibbled bruscetta and home-made paté, enjoyed a sip of Australian wine or bubbles, and swayed to the smooth tunes of jazz outfit Blue in Red before offers for art began sneaking in.

Blue in Red keep the vibe going

John sold several pieces on the day, with the firm guest favorite selling for an impressive sum. He also sold smaller pieces and several photographs.

John (centre) with artist colleague Hope and event organiser Tim

John and his wonderful wife Christine will be moving home to Australia, where they'll take up residence in Canberra. They are certainly going to be missed on the Beijing scene.