Catering to Vegans

With the holidays arriving soon, many of us are turning our thoughts to menus and food shopping. In the past, such things were relatively straight forward, but now, with so many having different dietary requirements, it can all seem a bit of a nightmare.

The good old days when we all ate everything! Image: Image: Rumman Amin on Unsplash

As one of those ‘difficult’ guests, I apologise in advance on behalf of all of us. Some will have dietary needs based on ethics, some on health and some simply a matter of taste, but few will relish being the awkward one.

The spirit of the season

As a result, it is not unusual for the ‘difficult guest’ to bring their own food. This certainly makes it easier for the host, but is hardly in the spirit of the occasion. Whilst I would never expect anyone to cater to my rather peculiar diet, it gives me great pleasure when they do. And it does not require great culinary skill or weird and unusual ingredients (though you can try that if you wish.)

So, to make life a little easier on those catering to vegans and many other special diets, I’ve devised some ideas and hacks to help get you through the holidays without having to make extra dishes or compromise on taste.

Recipes, recipes

The expert on their diet is the person themselves and perhaps they can guide you to their favourite treats or cookery writer. Mine has to be my friend Karen Lee who I met through the OMS socials. She writes simple, no nonsense recipes with all sorts of variations for food intolerances. Her Eat Well, Live Well book is my go to for tasty tips.

A very well-loved cook book
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

With the number of folks choosing a plant based diet exploding, there is no shortage of recipes on all mainstream media. BBC Good Food ideas are invariably idiot-proof and delicious.

Supermarkets now have whole aisles dedicated to plant based options and a trip to a specialist health food shop isn’t necessary at all. The easiest thing is to pick up a delicious nut roast or meat alternative and serve it with your roast dinner.

Soups and starters

Most soups can be made vegan friendly simply by substituting a meat stock cube with a vegetable one. Clearly chicken and ox tail are off the menu, but mushroom and chestnut; spicy roast butternut squash and vegetable are definitely on.

This silky, ginger and butter squash soup with a swirl of vegan cream and seed sprinkles should appeal to everyone.
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Starters tend to be salad based and if you wanted to make something with prawns or bacon or chicken pieces, most vegans would be very happy to just have the salad by itself. If you are worried about the dressing, oil and vinegar is always delicious.

The main event

Most Christmas meals contain a wonderful array of vegetable dishes. Personally, I’d be happy eating just them. Where some meat or dairy products might slip into their preparation, here are some quick switches you can make:

  • Goose fat – olive oil or vegetable lard
  • Milk – oat milk (cooks really well) and makes a silky, smooth, thick white sauce when made with corn flour. Add a little vegetable stock powder or herbs for extra flavour
  • Cream – soya cream works in hot and cold dishes
  • Cheese flavour – I use yeast flakes in my cheese sauces. It really is good!
  • Fake bacon – okay, it isn’t really as delicious, but it is a good substitute, as are vegan sausages.
  • Gravy – A roast is not a roast without gravy, so to avoid having to eat a very dry nut roast, I had to find a way to make a sumptuous vegan one. The trick is to add Marmite and red wine or port to your roux, add stock, mix well and heat until creamy. You can buy vegetable gravy granules to which you add boiling water if you only need a tiny amount.
  • Adding zip to your vegetables! When we roast our vegetables, we often add cashew or other nuts to give it a little lift. If I have some, I will also add whole chestnuts. Toasted seeds and nuts are also delicious on vegetable dishes and salads.

Delicious desserts

Sweet dishes are often the hardest to adapt to a plant based diet, however, they needn’t be. If the thought of making something with plant gelatine or egg substitutes gives you the jitters, a fruit salad, hot or cold would be gladly received (and also by some of your groaning, over-full guests).

If you are feeling a tiny bit more adventurous, here is a recipe that is sure to please everyone. (Just don’t tell them about the main ingredient.) Because, silken tofu is your friend!

Three steps to heaven
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

To make the most luscious chocolate mousse, here’s the recipe:

Chocolate Mousse – Serves 4

Melt 100g of very dark chocolate (most chocolate over 50% cocoa is vegan) in a bowl over a pot of simmering water. When melted, remove from the heat.

Take one packet of silken tofu and squeeze out as much of the liquid as you can. (I cut off a tiny corner of the packet to avoid losing half of it down the sink!)

Put the tofu in a food processor and whiz until smooth. Add a teaspoon of vanilla essence (or any flavour you wish) and then the melted chocolate.

Spoon into espresso cups or wine glasses, chill and decorate with coffee beans, soft fruits or mint sprigs.

Other tasty things

Since becoming plant based, I have come to appreciate dried fruits and nuts much more. Large dates stuffed with walnuts make a delicious after-dinner treat or a plate with small slices of prettily coloured fruits. (Thank you Aunty Morag!)

If your guest are enjoying a cheese board, you might try some vegan ones or just lay out figs, dates, dried cranberries and a variety of nuts to nibble. I suspect the vegans won’t be the only ones digging in.

Christmas cakes and mince pies are easily adapted to vegan tastes and often available to buy at the better supermarkets (M&S, Waitrose and Sainsbury’s). Mince pies are even more easily sourced and if you make your own, just substitute vegetable suet for beef in the mincemeat – and remember not to put egg or butter in your pastry!

Whatever you choose for your Christmas feast this year, I hope it gives everyone joy and if you fancy adding a little vegan twist -well, so much the better.

Finding Joy Amidst Sorrow

To slightly misquote Dickens, the holiday season is the best of times and the worst of times. Whilst parties and gift giving are always a joy, the time itself often churns up a sea of less happy emotion. Our reunions are often missing some of the people we love best, either because of distance or their loss.

My boys are thousands of miles away and though I am delighted at the amazing technology behind video calls, our Christmas meetings are a mere simulacra of the real thing. At this time of year, I miss my brother too. He may have died 33 years ago, but his absence still pains me.

Joy at the heart of sorrow Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

And I know I am not alone in these sentiments. Few of us will be lucky enough not to have any sorrow at this time whether brought about by grief, anxiety, loneliness or depression.

Words of wisdom

Whilst scrolling through Netflix documentaries for our Ukrainian, Mariia, I spotted one called Mission Joy starring Desmond Tutu and the Dalai Lama. (For more information check out https://missionjoy.org/) That looked like just what we needed, so I paused to let her see it and yes, she chose it.

This year will be our second Christmas together. While we love her company, and I’m sure we’ll have a cheerful celebration, we are acutely aware that she is unable to go home to her own family. Since the Dalai Lama is also a refugee, I felt his words might give comfort.

Despite coming from very different religious backgrounds, the two men were very much in agreement about what brings joy into our lives. Each had suffered, yet each was full of the most sparkling of spirits.

What they said was not entirely new to me. Upon my diagnosis, I felt the whole world fall away. My old life was gone and my future looked very bleak indeed. What saved me was finding the Overcoming Multiple Sclerosis programme. In it were suggestions to tend to both my mind and my body and this led me to the revelatory book Full Catastrophe Living by Jon Kabat-Zinn.

Here was someone who acknowledged that life is usually full of challenge and difficulty and rather than shying away from the fact, actively embraced it. For within catastrophe can be found hope. I did my homework and discovered what he said was true.

Revision

That was eight years ago and I think I was ready for a refresh and Mission Joy did just that. So I’d like to give a very brief precis of their words coupled with my own experience. Life is never easy. We are all walking wounded. Acknowledging that is, I believe, the first step towards healing.

Reframing

The Dalai Lama gave great credit to this activity. Our minds, after all, determine our reality, so if we are able to shift our focus, to ‘reframe’ the moment or event, we may be able to see it as a point of opportunity rather than a dead end.

What you see in the picture is up to you Image: Angele Kamp on Unsplash

Being diagnosed with a chronic condition would seem like a catastrophe, but it has opened up my world in the most amazing ways. I may not be able to work, but I now have time to write and create; I may not be able to walk far, but each step feels like a miracle. My appreciation for everything has multiplied a hundred fold and gratitude is definitely the route to happiness.

Contemplation

Finding a time for quiet, prayer or meditation is vital to still our crazy ‘monkey minds’. This is especially true in the lead up to Christmas where lists seem to give birth to lists with Malthusian consequences.

Crazy busy! Image: Anna Dziubinska on Unsplash

Following Zinn’s suggestions, I learned to seriously meditate: forty minutes a day for eight weeks. It was hard work, but bit by bit my anxiety about the future was quelled and my capacity for hope increased. Though I confess to being a bit lax on the formal meditation side at the moment, I do ensure that I have quiet times each day to simply be and let go of my worries.

But don’t take my word for it. The science clearly supports the calming effects of contemplation. It brings many other benefits too including increasing resilience and with that physical well-being.

The catch? There’s always a catch. To enjoy these benefits you have to commit whole-heartedly to daily practice – even if that is only five minutes at first. Like physical strength, it requires a regular workout.

When suffering does you good

I doubt this part is going to be very popular. None of us like to suffer and I hope none of us like to see others suffer either. However, suffering is often the route to compassion.

Tutu used the example of Nelson Mandela who began as a man of violence and ended a man of peace. His suffering in the notorious Robben Island penal colony might have inflamed his anger, but instead sparked compassion. The transition to black African rule might have been fraught with bloodshed, but under Mandela’s guidance, was one of peace.

One word says it all Image: Dave Lowe on Unsplash

Compassion literally means ‘to suffer with’. If we do not know suffering, it is very difficult to imagine it. It also is taken to mean having motivation to alleviate that condition. In other words, unlike pity, it is an active emotion.

My less than pleasant experiences with MS and cancer and bereavement have had the unexpected benefit of enabling me to understand much more clearly how others feel in those circumstances. With that, I hope my words and actions reflect that and the recipient does not feel pitied but rather supported in their journey.

Finding joy

For joy is to be found not within ourselves but as a by-product of giving. Tutu said, ‘ Joy is the reward we receive for giving joy to others.’ That is a philosophy that I can certainly stand by.

Modern society focuses on the individual and the satisfaction of his or her desires as the path to happiness. Unsurprisingly, the world has never been more depressed.

This is not to say that we give up all the things we love. There are good selfish and negative selfish emotions. The Dalai Lama suggested that good selfishness ensures that you take care of yourself. Negative selfishness is when you obtain your objective at the expense of others.

A balance needs to be struck between these two.

For my part, joy is bundled with love. If we take the Christmas message to love one another and show good will to all men, we will have a very joyful Christmas indeed – regardless of how life has treated us.

Getting Ready for Christmas

This year, I have vowed to get ahead of Christmas and not scrabble frantically as the days on the advent calendar make their inexorable way to twenty-five. With a little preparation, I hope to make the season one of joy instead of stress. When I have found a gift, I have wrapped it with care rather than cursing through the eleventh hour, Sellotape attached to everything but the present. My Christmas cake is made and the mincemeat ready in jars. If all else fails, it is good to know we shall have something to eat.

Because, November is the most miserable of months. Endless dreer, drecht days do nothing for the spirit and the mounting anxiety as Christmas hoves into view doesn’t help either.

So I think I have found a tonic. Creative projects, sociable activities and candle-light are the perfect antidote for gloom. Though I appreciate that this post is going out on the 1 Dec, I hope that some of these activities will inspire you to do something festive as the holidays approach. Nothing takes more than half a day, and plenty just half and hour.

And though I can’t compete with the Martha Stewarts of the world, I can enjoy having at least a few little things that I can point to and say, ‘I made that!’

Feed the cake

At craft club, a friend talked about making her Christmas cake. My first thought was, ‘What? Already?’ Then I realised that Christmas was now only weeks away and if I were to have any chance of making a nice, moist, well-sozzled cake, I would have to start now.

Most years, I only remember a week ahead and so have little time to feed it with brandy. This year, I plan to have my cake fail the breathalyzer test. Hopefully, it will keep well into the New Year too – if it isn’t eaten first.

Unwrapped for its weekly feed
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Wreath making with friends

When my lovely friend, Jane, offered to do a wreath making workshop with us, we jumped at the chance. She very kindly sourced all the materials we needed and we brought extra greenery and something for lunch.

Unlike most of my craft mornings, we were very quiet, concentrating hard on following instructions. In only a couple of hours, our bare wire frames were festooned with flora and ready to hang on the door.

Working together, we were able to swap tips and ideas, laugh at mistakes and congratulate each other on our achievements. Projects complete, we could settle to a delicious shared lunch and admire our handiwork.

It was a joyous morning that was full of Christmas spirit. (Bit like my cake!)

Mincemeat

Inspired by my success with the wreath, I decided to make even more Christmas treats. The mincemeat below was a very economical one. It used up all the spare ingredients from the cake, some vegetable suet that was mere months away from its sell-by date and some delicious dried foods on the shelves. The pretty labels had been languishing in a drawer waiting for their opportunity to shine.

Of course, now I shall have to make mince pies – but I shall worry about that another day.

Table decorations

Inspired by my friend’s German copy of Landlust magazine and having begged a bag of moss from my friend Jane, I was ready to make a floral table decoration. The base is a rather dinged springform tin, around which I wound some ivy from the garden. Moss secured the candles and then it was just a question of adding greenery and pine cones.

Serious flower arrangers look away! It is far from perfect, but I feel the greens and candles give the festive feel I’m looking for. And when the candles are lit, all you will see is the light.

Reusable crackers

This year, I really want to try to be as eco-conscious as possible. Gifts bought need to be practical and beautiful; wrapping recyclable where possible and decorations natural rather than plastic. As part of this aim, I decided to try to make a reusable cracker.

It was more straight-forward than I thought. I had left-over fabric and only needed some cracker fillings. These I found on Ebay for a few pounds, loo roll cardboard tubes we had saved, and the treat was a teabag!

If you would like to make some, here’s how (and I’m sure that there are even more professional guidelines on YouTube)

  • Cut a piece of fabric approximately 30 cm by 15cm. A fat quarter should yield you enough for 6 crackers
  • If you want to add an embellishment (I had a scrap of Hello Kitty fabric left) stitch that onto the right side of the fabric.
  • Fold the fabric in half, length-wise, right sides facing and sew by hand or machine.
  • Using pinking shears, cut along all the edges. This will reduce the size of the seam and give a cool ‘cracker-like’ look to the ends.
  • Turn right-side out and slide in the loo roll tube or rolled piece of card.
  • Fill with a gift, joke, snap and crown.
  • Make sure the card is centred and then tie the ends with ribbon or even long scraps of fabric.
  • Your crackers can be used as bespoke wrapping for an expensive gift, or ‘cards’, or for the dinner table. When the holidays are done, simply store them away for next year.

Wildlife baubles

With temperatures free-falling into single digits, it is also time to think of the denizens of the garden. Though there are still plenty berries on the shrubs and ivy, I think the birds and squirrels deserve a treat along with the rest of us. I learned how to make these wildlife baubles at a seed swap last year and with suet left over from the mincemeat, thought it time to make some more.

It really couldn’t be simpler and a lovely activity to do with children.

All you need is: vegetable suet, pine cones, birdseed, string or twine. Warm the suet in your hands and when it is nice and sticky, press into the pine cones. Roll the cones in birdseed, attach the string and there you are! For a deluxe version, press peanuts and raisins into the pine cones before adding the suet. (Avoid the raisins if you have a dog though, as they are highly toxic for them.) Hang on trees in the garden.

There’s nothing like home(made)

With so many Christmas preparations done this month, I am looking forward to rather than dreading the main event. There is still plenty to do – writing cards and sourcing gifts are next on my list, but they feel manageable instead of overwhelming. And the pleasure of having made even a few things helps remove the sour taste of commercialism that often taints the holidays. This year, Christmas is a bit wonky and homemade, but like my children’s primary school decorations, all the more precious for it.

Love Your Library

A few weeks ago, I had to go into town for a hair cut. On the way back, I thought I would pop into the central library. I confess that I haven’t really used it in years, which, as a book addict, seems a terrible confession.

When my children were young, a trip to the library was always on the agenda in addition to a little Saturday shopping. Since they are grown and shopping is something that is more ordeal than pleasure, I have lost the habit.

What prompted me to return was a desire to be more efficient with my resources. I buy endless quantities of books, pass them on to friends or donate them to charity. The only problem is that charity shops are so often over-whelmed with books that they no longer accept them. Further, much as sharing books is a good thing, it cuts the authors out of the loop.

Libraries in contrast pay authors based on the number of times their books are taken out. And these books are available to a large audience, not just friends or charity shop browsers.

A card that unlocks the world

Back in use Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Our library has been recently modernised, so on entering, I was delighted to see a spacious room with displays of books dotted around, a large and welcoming children’s corner and the usual stacks. What I didn’t see were very many people.

And this is a great pity, because the library offers so much more than novels. They have a large periodical section and reading area (where I enjoyed the luxury of reading The Guardian in peace) and an extensive reference section on the second floor.

When I looked up what else was on offer, I was very pleasantly surprised. In addition to lots of child-centred activities, they had adult learning courses, computers to use and their own little shop. Ours even has a theatre in the basement.

Membership to the library allows you to source books from absolutely anywhere so that the fairly modest stock on view is only a fraction of what is available. For a fee, you can order books from The British Library.

A book with my name on

After discovering that the novel Kidnapped by R L Stevenson was not about piratical misdemeanors in the South Seas but instead set in the Scottish Highlands, I was determined to read it. Sadly, the book was not on the shelves, so I enquired about reservations. Sure enough, they had it at another branch and in a week or two a letter arrived saying it was available for collection.

Ready to collect Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

I returned to the library to pick up my treasure expecting to pay a fee to at least cover the administration and postage costs – but no, like almost everything else at the library, it was free.

Recommendations

What I love most about belonging to a book group is that we are required to read outside our usual fare. Sometimes this leads to discovering new authors that we admire and sometimes not, but being stretched a little does no one any harm.

An author I love, but a book I’d missed until it was put on display. Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Appealingly laid out at the library are recommended reads. I enjoy choosing one book from these more enticing, open shelves. Perhaps I will find a gem. If not, I can always borrow another.

A place of calm

Without the fussy Be Quiet notices of the past, the library was, nonetheless, serene. Stepping in from the busy town centre felt like entering a haven of unhurried and peaceful concentration. Elderly folks were at tables reading print newspapers; children were congregated in the colourful section at the back. Staff ambled to and fro replacing books on shelves and offered assistance at the kiosk. Borrowing and returning books was done in a very modern way via machine using a system even I could navigate.

Nothing beats the feel of paper on fingers Image: Photo by Guzel Maksutova on Unsplash

The building itself is a draw for me: the colourful covers of books, folks engaged in their reading, a sense of community. But, like Specsavers, you do have to go there.

This isn’t for everyone. The library has to be the most accessible public building I’ve been in, but getting to the town is not always easy. Transport, the weather or parking may be against you, or perhaps you wish to remain in the comfort of your own home.

Even here, your library card has reach with an enormous selection of ebooks, eAudiobooks and periodicals on offer. For those who love to read their Kindle in bed, it is a great option.

A hybrid approach

Having discovered the library once more, I am determined to include it in my schedule. If nothing else, it is somewhere I can muse or read without interruption.

That said, I have no wish to abandon my favourite independent bookshop. I want them to succeed too.

A bookshop sans pareil
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

The card on the top of the pile is of a painting they commissioned of their upstairs reading room. This is no ordinary bookshop.

Here I can indulge in newly released books and more bespoke periodicals. It’s also a good place to have a chat with the owners and see their latest configurations of the shop.

Use it or lose it

With councils struggling to stretch their budgets with ever greater demands and less income, the first service to fall is often the library. This is a great pity, since it is centre for all learning and information. It is also a warm place where people can sit and read and feel welcome.

I appreciate that councils face tough choices on where to spend their limited cash and if libraries are under-used, we should not be surprised if they close.

Yet, libraries are the great equalisers. With almost everything free, you can access knowledge and support in education no matter what your financial circumstances. As a teacher, I can think of nothing more important.

So if you have a library card somewhere, or need to get one, I encourage you to drop in to your local library and support this wonderful service. I hope, like me, you will be very pleasantly surprised.

Do Nothing Days

Having run aground on the lurking sands of exhaustion, I decided that this week was time to take a break. Medical appointments aside (I had three in a row – they come like buses), I was going to spend my days doing, well, nothing.

Modern life frowns on such idleness. Our shops are open seven days a week and often far into the evening; commutes stretch from year to year; the forty hour week, so long fought for, has become the stuff of dreams.

Working from home has no office hours Image: Corinne Kutz on Unsplash

Worse, with so many working excessive hours during the week, their weekends are spent on housework, DIY and shopping – hardly a way to rest and restore oneself. So the week rolls on with barely time to draw breath.

Remember the Sabbath day

Our ancestors knew better. Though they worked hard and almost certainly six days a week, they took the seventh to rest. Sabbath comes from the word Shabbath, which translates either as ‘a day of rest’ or ‘to stop or cease’. Either way, the meaning is clear. It’s time to lay down your work and relax.

Throughout history, in the major religions of Judaism, Christianity and Islam, the Sabbath has also been a day of religious observance. In our more secular world, church attendance may not be for you, but it doesn’t mean we should disregard the essence of this time of reflection. Gratitude for the beauty of the natural world; thanks for blessings; prayers for the well-being of others and quiet reflection is not restricted to the observant: it is vital for all.

A time to laugh Image: Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

We need time to refuel both our bodies and minds. Interestingly, the seven day cycle of work and rest is the ideal one.

A Russian experiment

For eleven years, under Stalin’s rule, Russia instated a continuous working week, or nepreryvka. Each employee would work for five days and have the sixth off. The problem was that each employee was working under his own cycle, so that though a husband may have that day off, his wife may not. Despite having more free days, people were unhappy. Their family time was in chaos and religious observance impossible (both probably secondary aims to increased production.) Eventually, the scheme was scrapped. https://www.history.com/news/soviet-union-stalin-weekend-labor-policy

During the French Revolution, they brought in a ten day week (equally unsuccessful) and historically, the length of a week has been varied. However, with the world so interconnected, the Western standard of a seven day week has become the norm.

Numerous European countries are experimenting with a four-day work week (assuming that productivity is maintained at 100%), so perhaps our rest days will increase in the future. Sounds like an excellent plan to me.

More days to enjoy a book in bed Image: Photo by Jovan Vasiljevic on Unsplash

More days than most

Sadly, one day of rest per week is not enough for me. This last week I needed five. Two were spent fairly comatose, the other three in a state of determination to do nothing. Of course, I didn’t actually do nothing, but giving myself permission to do only what I felt capable of seemed like the same thing. I read, I crafted, I went to bed early. As a result, I now feel completely human again and ready for the busy finale to the week.

The perfect reading list: one cosy crime and two literary delights
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

This morning, I spoke to my adorable MS nurse about the frustrations of fatigue and she understood. Joy! It isn’t tiredness – it’s your brain worn out by continuously rerouting signals around the road blocks of lesions. But give it time and rest, and it will recover. I only need to remember not to take advantage of it.

This is so hard. Who wants to be the one always saying ‘no’ to things? I don’t want to miss anything either.

But then I console myself. My emergency trip to the doctor on Monday showed my fears of Lyme disease were unfounded (though whatever giant beastie bit me in Maine remains a mystery!) My dentist and MS were happy with me, and I feel utterly privileged to live in a country where such excellent healthcare is available.

Somehow I’ll need to work on scheduling life so that so many Do Nothing Days will become unnecessary. This is definitely a work in progress.

For those of you in good health and busy always, don’t forget to keep space for a Do Nothing Day. After all, you’ve earned it.

Us and Them

Patience is a virtue. Of that there is no doubt. However, we seem to demand more patience from one group than another. The disadvantaged are forced to cultivate this virtue on a daily basis, whilst the rest of us fume at the inconvenience of a few minutes (seconds?) delay.

Whilst I applaud their stoicism, I do think that it is only fair that we share the burden more equally. We can all learn to be a little more gracious, tolerant and calm. We can all, I hope, work towards a society that makes the requirement for these qualities more evenly distributed.

On the buses

What prompted this post was a trip to town on Tuesday to get my hair cut. I took a taxi to the station, did my errands and thought, since it was an unusually fine day, that I would get a bus back. I love buses. They are always filled with interesting people and you get to watch the world go by in a very peaceful way.

It was a bit of risk. I’d been on my feet for quite a while, but I stubbornly didn’t want to waste a minute of sunshine.

So off I went to the nearest bus stop only to discover that it was not in use due to Lightning Fibre works digging up the road and pavements. No provision had been made for a temporary stop. When I asked one of the workmen, he just directed me to the next stop further along. It was no distance really – except when your legs are ceasing to work. I made it, smiled at the others waiting there and slumped against the wall.

Still waiting Image: Johen Redman

Since I live on a main bus route, surely something would be along soon. There was no way I could make it back to the station and a taxi, so I waited. And waited. And waited.

After twenty minutes, the bus arrived. The couple standing by me, sweetly offered for me to get on first. I demurred; they had, after all, been waiting even longer. How lovely they were.

The bus demographic

The journey home was brief and uneventful. One lady was there with her grandson in a push chair and chattered away to him. She included the lady sitting next to me, who clearly was mobility impaired. Across the aisle was a student. And the couple I had been waiting with were clearly neither British nor wealthy.

A cross section of society: the community of bus users Image: Mitchell Johnson

Because buses are a wonderful cross-section of society. There are people like myself who choose public transport but many of the other occupants do not have that luxury. The majority of bus users fall into the category of the less privileged: the elderly, the disabled, the young and the less affluent. Whilst we may not fall into any of those categories now, it is worth remembering that we may in the future.

The bus I was on went to Uckfield. There is no longer a rail link and the town is nineteen miles away. My one mile trip to town cost £7 by taxi, so a return to Uckfield would be prohibitive to even the wealthiest commuter. The buses are not especially regular, so users learn to wait. Which they do and amazingly graciously.

Value for money

Currently, under a Government scheme, bus journeys only cost £2. It is wonderfully cheap and designed to encourage us to use public transport and is a practical response to the cost of living crisis. (It is also a great solution to excessive car emissions.)

Yet, very few of us take advantage of this. Our cars with their air conditioning and heated seats are far preferable to standing in the rain and waiting. We even curse the lights and road works which prolong our journey by mere minutes, though we are cosy and warm in our car bubble.

In car entertainment or open to the elements? Which would you choose?
Image: Arteum-ro on Unsplash

Because we do not use these services, we are unaware of their shortcomings. People imagine that bus stops all have seats – they don’t – and equally few have any shelter whatsoever.

The snazzy apps that tell you time-tables and when buses are due to arrive are fabulous in principle but less than perfect in practice.

Perhaps you are wondering why I am even telling you this. The reason is that I firmly believe that when the more politically active amongst us actually experience what is like for those less fortunate, we are likely to act upon it.

The same applies to all public services: health, education, transport and housing – everything vital in our lives. When we can buy ourselves a better deal and a reduced waiting time, what others have to deal with may seem to have little consequence. But in a healthy society, everyone matters. There is no them, only us.

There is an election on the horizon where we can select the candidate we feel will most work to their constituents’ benefit. We can also practise patience as a daily discipline. Dealing graciously with life’s lemons can turn even the most miserable of occasions into something else entirely. I quickly forgot the time I had waited for the bus when a stranger showed me kindness. That gift is in all our hands.

Picture Postcards from the Highlands

I left for the Highlands tired and came back exhausted. Such is the price you pay for going on holiday with Tigger (my husband) and a young, curious Ukrainian.

We’d booked the holiday some time in advance imagining that the end of October would be quiet, a bit drizzly and the perfect opportunity to relax. Ironically, despite the best efforts of storm Babet, the region we were going to was generally dry with only a few rain showers. And with such crisp autumn days beckoning, how could we stay inside?

Scottish hospitality

A trip to Scotland is always an opportunity to catch up with relatives and we were delighted to have a chance to catch my darling uncle and aunt who live outside Glasgow.

Edwin and Morag; Jeff and me. Image: Mariia Matrunich

Despite insisting that we were only coming for a cup of tea, Morag made a delicious lunch. Our visit was all too short, as the chaos caused by the storms meant we had to take a longer, scenic route along the west coast.

Home for a while

Going off season meant we had a chance to stay at our favourite hotel: The Grant Arms. Though rather grand in appearance and impeccable in service, it is warm and welcoming. Most of the guests are wildlife enthusiasts, so the vibe is very informal. Dressing for dinner means taking off your hiking boots.

The Grant Arms, Grantown Image: Mariia Matrunich

Hermione spent her entire stay receiving biscuits from staff and guests alike. She was effectively the hotel dog and received her own ‘doggy’ sausages for breakfast. I doubt she will ever recover.

Into the woods

Grantown is located at the heart of the Cairngorms National Park with magnificent woodland fringing the town. My favourite is the ancient Anagach Wood (where if you are very lucky, you might spot a Capercaillie).

The following day, we made our ‘pilgrimage’ there. The walk down to the river is a short one, and I was relishing the sunshine on the turning leaves whilst Mariia was falling in love with moss. Hermione was delighting in roaming free.

Emboldened by the fact my legs were cooperating, I suggested we took an alternative route back – as they all ended at the carpark. Alas, the return journey was considerably longer and Jeff thought he might have to carry me home. With my legs completely useless, Mariia and Jeff supported me as I dragged my reluctant limbs. We made it and collapsed into the hotel – reassuring staff that I was not injured, only worn out. The lounge has never seemed so beckoning.

Time to rest

With another sunny day ahead, it seemed a terrible waste not to enjoy it. Feeling a little under the weather, I joined the others for a brief trip to Carrbridge before heading back to the hotel for a chance to recover. The others headed to Inverness and enjoyed exploring the architecturally stunning city, the Victorian market and the famous bookshop. The latter made me rather jealous, but sometimes, you just have to accept that having MS means you can’t do everything!

Leakey’s Bookshop, Inverness
Image: Mariia Matrunich

This magnificent bookshop is situated in an old church and packed with second-hand treasures. Next time, I shall certainly be visiting.

Town and country

My respite proved restorative, so the next day we headed to Aviemore and beyond. The town is quite small, but well provided for in terms of amenities. From there we headed to Loch Morlich – a stunning loch that offers sandy beaches as well as woodland walks. The views across the water were breath-taking, with the mountains in the distance still frosted with snow from last winter.

Views from Loch Morlich Image: Mariia Matrunich

When people enquire why I keep going up to the Highlands, I think this is my answer.

After reviving ourselves at the wee cafe in the woods, we set off home via Nethy Bridge. This charming, tiny village has not a great deal to offer in terms of shops, but the river and walks more than make up for it. The opportunity to walk its banks and listen to the rush of water was too good to resist.

Mariia in her happy place, listening to the stream tumble over the rocks
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

And Nethy Bridge took us past Roy Castle and the ever charming Highland Coo, Murdo with his sheep companion.

Murdo and Buster Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
Castle Roy – fort of the infamous The Wolf of Badenoch Image: Mariia Matrunich

We can never resist a cow or a ruined castle.

To the sea

Wednesday we had a house viewing in Nairn. Though that was not successful, our beach walk was. Despite the squalling wind and the strand littered with pebbles and seaweed, it still looked magnificent.

Wild as the shoreline Image: Mariia Matrunich

We trawled the excellent charity shops and had chats with the locals. They are a friendly bunch. I even met one lady who had relocated from a small village near Eastbourne. It is indeed a small world.

Respite

After such busy days, it was time to enjoy my book and the local shops. Jeff and Mariia however, were not so easily satisfied and headed off to the local museum. Once there, they got to enjoy some dressing up in period costumes. Jeff was clearly channelling his inner Adam Ant in his.

Stand and deliver! Image: Mariia Matrunich

A proper castle

Not content with just a ruin, Mariia wanted to visit a proper Scottish castle. There are any number in the area, but we settled on Brodie as it was a National Trust property and we could walk Hermione in the grounds. Like many ‘castles’, it is really a fortified house, but with a medieval heart, turrets and magnificent gardens, who were we to quibble?

A dwelling fit for Disney Image: Mariia Matrunich

Our tour guide valiantly tried to portray its many residents (who we had nicknamed the Smuglies) in the best light. But, alas, even she was unable entirely to overlook their weather vane politics that ensured they always stayed on the right side of any conflict and thus were able to keep hold of their castle and lands.

Homeward bound

The next day was our last and we had a very long journey ahead of us. Unwilling to lose an opportunity for further Highland adventures though, Jeff insisted we book tickets to see a local author we love: S G Maclean. Her talk was part of the Wee Crime Festival organised by the wonderful Bookmark bookshop. But we were still not done.

To break the journey, we stopped at The House of Bruar – the Highland equivalent of Harrods (only nicer). While Mariia pursued the sale section, Jeff and I took Hermione for a wee walk by the falls. It was a perfect place to say farewell to the region we love.

And once home, what did I do? Slept.

Highland Post

This week we’ve been up in the Highlands (yes, again!) The weather has been kind despite the recent storms and the autumn colours breath-taking.

Despite all intentions to do nothing but read, sketch and day-dream, we’ve been busy every day and have plans to do more on our next trip.

Since we only have hours left to enjoy our stay, I hope you’ll forgive me for not writing a proper post. Next week, I shall share our highlights. Till then, take care and keep warm.

Murdo the Highland Coo and his companion Buster
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

War! What is it good for?

Absolutely nothing.

War is back in the headlines and in our heads these last weeks. The atrocities taking place in the Israel/Palestine conflict curdle the stomach, leaving us shocked and bewildered by man’s capacity for cruelty.

Yet, this is only one war out of the estimated 32 worldwide (World Population Review) and the 110 armed conflicts, which are smaller, if no less vicious. (Geneva Academy) Presented on a map, this virus of violence is most prominent in the Middle East, Africa, and Asia, but we know all too well how conflict can be infectious.

There will be no illustrations to this blog post. I think we have all seen enough. Nor shall I be dwelling on the immediate impact of war. What I should like to consider is the long-term effects, the parts that the cameras and journalists seldom capture.

Living with a displaced person has given me some real insights and reminders that war is not a news cycle but an ongoing and damaging process long after the troops have gone home and the peace treaties signed.

Living with trauma

Whilst we may be familiar with soldiers getting PTSD following their tours, it is worth remembering that civilians too suffer trauma. Though hopefully not as intense, one cannot survive bombings, interrupted sleep and fear for ones loved ones for months on end without it taking its toll. Even those lucky enough to escape conflict at the beginning will have the urgency and fear of escape seared into memory.

Diaspora

For me, one of the most heart-breaking consequences of war is having families torn apart and perhaps not able to reunite for years on end. Mariia’s own family is split between Poland, England and Ukraine. One of her friends is in Switzerland, but with a nervous US government, unable to get a visa to visit her brother in America. The list goes on.

After a while, the new home becomes home. Children raised in another country may not wish to return and disrupt friendships and education all over again. Anxious parents may not want to either. A temporary relocation becomes fixed.

Demotion

Unless you are one of the few people who are completely fluent in the language of your adopted country, it is unlikely that you will find work that is equivalent to that you held at home. My friend’s neighbour is hosting a Ukrainian engineer. She took a job washing dishes at the pub, so grateful was she to the government for providing her and her daughter with a place of safety.

And of course, when it is time to return, the years abroad are lost to promotion and upskilling.

Those left behind in the conflict are no better off. With sirens sounding throughout the night, unreliable services such as electricity, one can hardly be expected to perform at one’s best.

Scarcity

All wars bring with them scarcities – sometimes of resources vital to life. In Ukraine, whilst they have miraculously kept their infrastructure working, food is now approximately 50% more expensive, whilst salaries and fixed incomes remain stuck. Life is getting increasingly difficult and these shortages are likely to continue some time after the conflict ends – not least due to the damage the Russians have made to the land.

In the UK, rationing only ended in 1954 – nine years after the war ended. The effects of conflict spiral on into the future.

Rebuilding

With so much lost in war, the need to rebuild is urgent. Sadly, much of what is lost is irreplaceable: great artworks, grand buildings, heirlooms in family homes.

And at the back of everyone’s mind is the question: will it happen again? Am I rebuilding only to have it fall once more? Will these crops ever reach my family or be stolen by yet another militia?

Such fears are real and justified. The dread that it might happen again is the most pernicious and weakens the resolve to recover. We should be cognizant of this and where possible give the necessary reassurances of protection and support, because nothing feeds the urge for conflict great than fear.

What can be done?

Man’s urge to kill and destroy is unlikely to end anytime soon. However, I do hope that as we become more aware of the hidden costs of war and its impact over the years, we might be less inclined to jingoism and the lure of war’s ‘glory’.

The angry young men committing the heinous atrocities in the Middle East have been fed propaganda and a peculiarly violent interpretation of Islam over many, many years. They have been taught not to question or consider that their views contain any flaw.

When looking at most conflicts, this process of indoctrination – even if simply of the inherent rightness or superiority of their sovereign state – occurs over years if not generations.

We are currently blessed with peace, but I feel that the circumstances are such that we too may easily be led into fanaticism. People hold stronger views more forcefully. Listening skills are side-lined to shouting loudest.

I pray that we can retain our peace on the large and small scale by consciously opening ourselves to the possibility that we may, just may be wrong and to question everything.

Running on Empty

At the beginning of this week, I ground to a halt. The endless activity and excitement of the last few weeks (months? years?) culminated in my lovely goddaughter’s wedding. The day was perfect, the bride beautiful and setting exquisite. We caught up with old friends, ate, drank and laughed.

I was sorry to be dragged away at 7pm by my husband who insisted it was time to go home and that only the two cups of coffee I’d drunk after dinner were keeping me upright. He was correct. We reached home just after eight and I quietly expired on the sofa.

My Covid jab the following day proved the coup de grace.

The big sleep

From here on out, with a few forays into the land of the living, I slept. And slept.

I don’t want to get up! Image: Andisheh A on Unsplash

I exceeded all records on Monday when I went to bed at 9pm, got up at noon the next day and returned to bed at 7pm. This was not living. This was simply filling the gaps with nausea filled spaces of exhaustion. Something needed to be done.

Interestingly, in the brief moments when I could concentrate, we watched a wonderful Netflix documentary on How to Live to One Hundred. Though I have no desire to be a centenarian, I was intrigued to see how individuals living in fairly poor communities were able to maximise their lives even into advanced age.

Much of what I learned was not entirely new – but seeing these people enjoying full and happy lives on screen was. Sometimes I feel a hundred. It cheered me to think I might enjoy it also!

Just about managing

Since diagnosis, my life has been an ongoing experiment and I was pleased to see that much of what I was doing was right. However, it was not fool-proof or days like Tuesday would not occur. I was managing, but only just.

If you’d like to read an introduction to Dan Buettner’s research into ‘Blue Zones’ follow this link: https://www.bluezones.com/2016/11/power-9/ .

What follows incorporates some of his ideas in combination with my own.

Self-preservation

This is not one that appears on Buettner’s list and may seem suspiciously selfish. However, it is not putting oneself first in a way that is detrimental to others but rather putting oneself first in order to be helpful to others. If we run ourselves into the ground, even in service, we are no use to anyone.

Don’t forget to save yourself Image: Mark Konig on Unsplash

For me that means allowing Hermione to be a bit bored occasionally; to take time to do things that replenish me; to avoid the suspicion that my only purpose is to please others. Tea can wait; dust can accumulate. No one will die.

Finding a purpose together

Everyone needs purpose in life and for most of us, that means doing something for others – either in the particular or the collective. Everyone who works and pays taxes contributes to the common weal.

But it is often the optional efforts that give us the greatest sense of fulfilment. We may volunteer at an organisation we respect or help someone with their shopping. What we do doesn’t matter. Acts of kindness are always rewarding. They are also boosted from the benefit of social interaction and especially with those of like mind.

Being among friends always lifts my spirits – even when I’m not at my best. Monday morning is my craft group and I crawled out of bed to host it. Everyone arrived full of news and chatter and my fog of exhaustion lifted a little. Jane had brought a project for everyone to do, so I determined to at least attempt it. By the end of the morning I had a great sense of achievement. I’d made my ‘pumpkins’ and could have a rest with the joy of having done at least something with my day.

Fabric pumpkins Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Because being with those you care about, sharing a passion for an activity is vital for our well-being. And we need to do it in person.

Across the world there are epidemics of loneliness. We are all ‘connected’ but not engaging with one another. This breaks my heart. And whilst there are many who bemoan the statistics, it is up to us to act. We need to discover and support our ‘tribe’. If there seems to be no-one doing what you love, go out and find them. They are probably looking for you.

Down-time

All action all the time will leave you like me, stuck in bed and feeling sorry for yourself. Balance is key.

The good news is that it doesn’t have to be for long. A short power nap after lunch can do wonders for your concentration. Taking time for prayer or meditation brings us back to all that is truly important.

I was horrified to learn that a very successful and busy friend didn’t ‘have time’ for meditation. I suggested gazing out the window for a few minutes each hour to rest his eyes from the computer screen and give himself a well-earned break. Sadly, I doubt he does, such is the pressure always to perform.

Not taking time for rest invariably impacts our health. The time we spend in R&R simply reduces the time we spend in A&E.

Refuelling

In order to maximise our energy levels we need to eat well. The jury is definitely in that a mainly plant based diet is best for our health. I think that we all know this but are put off by the time required to prepare such foods from scratch. Many of us are not really sure how to cook, either. But there are ways to make life easier (and as someone who doesn’t have the energy to spend hours in the kitchen) these are vital.

Light and easy Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Batch cooking is definitely the way to go whether you freeze the remainder or enjoy the next day, but fresh food can be prepared ahead too and kept quite happily for a day or two in the fridge. The colourful plate above took just minutes to assemble since the coleslaw was the last of a large bowl, the salad also, the baked courgette left-overs, which left me only to cut an avocado and peel and slice a kiwi. Such a meal fills you up without going overboard with calories. The perfect balance.

With plant-based cooking the latest fashion, it isn’t hard to find delicious and easy recipes. I’ll try to include some plant based inspiration in a future blog.

Keep moving!

Once you have your energy back, it is time to get moving. Buettner’s research made my day by suggesting natural movement is every bit as good as more obvious exercise like attending the gym. There is hope for me yet. Physical abilities and low energy levels severely restrict what I can do. That said, I think I may have found a solution. Poco a poco is what works for me.

Housework is a truly good workout, as is gardening. However, if I overdo it on either (we’re talking less than an hour here) I end up back on the sofa. So I am trying (and not always succeeding) into breaking tasks down into small units – just dusting one room, taking a break and doing another. It is painful being so slow, yet if I achieve multiple tasks in a day, I have the same result as a blast that exhausts me.

Ironically, not making life easy is the best thing for you: to walk rather than take the bus; to wash the dishes rather than use a machine. Simple and repetitive jobs give us the workout we need whilst achieving something worthwhile.

My fog of fatigue hasn’t completely lifted yet, but I’m getting there. I’m hoping that if I can follow my own advice, I will have a little in reserve for more challenging days.