let them eat cake

This time last year I was baking regularly. There were many reasons for that- comfort eating, the need to achieve something, yumminess. I blogged about it then.

I was never going to be a housewife. Even Betty Draper didn’t want to be a housewife. I’ll keep the top layer of grub away and spend ages looking at design blogs, but I’m never actually going to be creative. As well as two left feet, I have two left hands and a lack of interest in the presumed housewifey activities.

Then I left work. I’m at home most of the time. If reading blogs and sleeping during the day are part of the job description, then I might have turned into a housewife. I’m still not sure how to process that.

In many ways I’m like my grandmother. I’m taller than she was and have opted for blonde rather than raven black, but I have her pear shape and pointy nose. I’d love her domestic abilities. She spent her working life in service- as a maid, cook, housekeeper. She fed her family by developing and using her domestic skills. I wonder now if she had to train one of her left hands to do what was required to survive in that world? I have so many choices that she never had. She was renowned for her baking, while my children have only recently discovered that cakes don’t have to come from shops.

Inspired by food blogs such as The Glutton, Italian Foodies, Donal and others, I’m beginning to look at receipes- the easiest, quickest ones that everybody will eat, it’s true- and at food as something which might be a bit more than just nourishment.

And I have discovered what generations of women have always known- the value of cake. I get to beat the shit out of vent my frustrations on a load of ingredients. I get to feel all pleased with myself that ‘look, I made that cake’ and then. There is cake to eat. The gift that keeps on giving.


Now, I’m avoiding such sweetness. I’m trying to lose weight. I haven’t baked in months. My family would love to eat cake. Instead, they’re recognising what it says on a coaster somewhere about “Help, Mummy’s on a diet and we’re all going to die!”

Top parenting there, Speccy.


Sidey‘s weekend theme: let them eat cake


19 thoughts on “let them eat cake

  1. Poor children. Ha. Am sure they fend for themselves quite nicely.

    This mothering business sounds fraught with conflicting feeling. If beating the crap out of a bowl of eggs and flour and shtufff helps; bake away, if it releases the tension the good will surceased over the bad -after all mothers are super heroes. Right?

  2. Oh, you shouldn’t give up cake. Just eat smaller portions of it.

    Anchorage is one of my all-time favourite songs. I love Short, Sharp Shocked and also Captain Swing.

    1. I saw her play in Belfast a million years when she was sick and grumpy- yet still brilliant. I think my other favourite one of hers is ‘memories of east texas’

  3. You see – there’s always someone like Nick around….. who doesn’t know that those who take smaller portions usually go back for the second helping!!!!

  4. Make biscuits – less bloody hassle 😉 We could start a club – “Awesome Women who hate housework but are still Fabulous” – in my house we eat to live as opposed to live to eat, great post!

  5. My workplace is obsessed with cake. Everybody’s into baking. As far as I’m concerned, the less cake the better. Except for birthdays and Christmas.

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