Happy Mother’s Day to all the mum’s, soon to be mum’s, grand-mum, great grand mum’s and mum’s no longer with us. Today I’m blogging a tribute to my mum, June.
Most people strongly believe their parent is the ‘best in the world’. For example how can I argue with my friend Kelly that her mum just isn’t the best in the world, my mum is! You can’t. Every mum is the best mum and deserves that badge of honour. But here is why my mum is a ‘best mum’.
Aside from the life lessons she has passed on to me and the patience and tolerance she has shown me over the years when I am not very nice, she is also the one who taught me to bake and later, cook.
One of my earliest childhood memories is of us in the kitchen, me standing on the step Dad had built so I could reach the counter, licking the wooden spoon after beating the cake batter. Yep, Mum and I bonded over baking. She would bake all sorts like biscuits, profiteroles, cakes, puddings and pastries. She was a dap hand at it.
A fond memory she recalls to me was when my parents had recently bought their first home and had invited Dad’s parents round for dinner; Mum had made a lemon meringue for pudding. Mum always made wickedly good meringue; she could get the fluffy peaks really high and the lemon really tart. Mum brought out the pudding and Nan apparently pouted because a Lemon Meringue had always been her baking foe! In fact the one time Nan made a meringue that came out unburnt with peaks still intact, she dropped it on the floor on the way to the table! Poor Nan.
Growing up, baking was our therapy after a bad day or a wet weather weekend. The results would either fill our own bellies or be taken into the staffroom at the school my Mum worked at. Today we still swap recipes and bake together at weekends. Spot a new alternative pudding on pinterest – share it. Spot a recipe in her Yours magazine – cut it out and put it in my bag of things to take home after dinner.
There really isn’t a day that goes by without me feeling grateful for my Mum. Even on the days when she really winds me up, I’m still grateful that no matter what I can talk to her. All the little ways she has, the notes she writes me and the emails I receive, all get saved or at least cherished for their well intentions before being recycled.
Happy Mother’s Day Mam!