We have arrived. I have been informed by many a Bristolian, since our landing here two weeks ago, that “everyone from Hackney comes to Bristol”. Well, do they all move in with their mother-in-law as well? Because that’s what we’ve done.
I’m 7-months pregnant with a toddler (and a very lovely, helpful husband) and my dear mother-in-law has welcomed us with open arms. Conveniently, these arms have been in Australia visiting family since our arrival, which has meant that Sam (aforementioned baby-father) and I were able to declutter the MILK (Mother-In-Law’s Kitchen – like what I did there?) and replace the dangerous, non-food-related items on the windowsill with a veritable library of ace cookery books. And when I say dangerous items, I’m talking nail varnish, weed-killer and other such noxious substances that you wouldn’t want to find next to your morning porridge. Oh, and we’ve changed the locks. And the alarm code.
Just joking, Mum!
So, this is the point at which I start cooking in another person’s kitchen. Everyday. On an AGA. AN AGA! How the heck do you bake a cake without a window?!
Wish me luck.