Crimperman.org

Would you begrudge adding this to a £30 meal to help someone?

This weekend we had a meal at a local restaurant. It’s part of a chain and to be honest the chain is irrelevant. We had a good time and enjoyed the food. When it came to pay the bill they added a 10p donation to the World Food Program‘s World Hunger Campaign. We had no objection and happily paid the bill.

It got us thinking though. What if all restaurant meals had this? What if every restaurant meal over a certain threshold (let’s say £3) had an automatic “tax” of 10p? Not 10% just 10p? How much would this raise? According to one industry site, about 148 million restaurant meals were eaten in the UK last year. This does not include take-aways but if the “tax” I suggest included them I guess we would be looking at it raising around £25million per annum. I’m not an expert but that’s a lot of money.

Now what if this were used to fund something like the WFP or maybe even fund free school dinners for more children in the UK? We’re told that the average cost for a school dinner is about £1.50. Families on benefits get free school dinners anyway but something like this could help a greater number and raise the threshold so those who are just above the benefit threshold (but still on very low income) could get some help too. If a child had a free cooked meal at school wouldn’t that help keep the family budget down and thus help raise a lot of families out of poverty? I suspect the answer is yes because otherwise the government wouldn’t already offer free school meals to the poorest families in the UK. Many studies have also shown that eating a nutritious lunch helps with studies and learning.

Okay so I guess a lot of financial and sociological experts will pick holes in this idea. I’m also sure there would be a lot of people who would object because they don’t have children or they should be able to choose to whom, when, how much and even if they donate. I still think it would be worth looking into and could be acceptable to many because a) it’s flat rate – if your meal costs £500 you still pay 10p, b) it’s a paltry amount, c) it’s easy to pay and d) it could make a real difference very quickly.

Thought I’d start the new year with a cautionary tale.

Somebody once said “There’s no such thing as a normal day”. That is true but there are definitely abnormal days. Days that really could only happen once. At least there had better be or else the day described here could happen again. Before I go any further I want to say this is all absolutely true (except the Bon Jovi bit which I can’t prove) and occurred in mid 2008. At the time, I submitted it as an article for an internal magazine where I was then working but never got around to putting it on here.

Update 19 March 2010: Recently this page has been coming to the top of Google searches for “My child has put cat poo in their mouth”. If you’ve come here looking for what to do I’m afraid I don’t have the answer. The NHS website does say that “Animal faeces (poo) are not ‘poisonous’ but may cause infections and if you are concerned you should call NHS Direct.” Here’s the link to that page (helpfully called “poisoning”) if it helps.

If your child hasn’t been tucking into the cat litter you can read on. Oh and wouldn’t read this while eating if I were you.

Rude awakenings

It all started when my left leg decided it was time to re-introduce me to the idea of cramp. Now I’ve had my fair share of cramp and perhaps it was the fact that I was in the middle of an unusually deep sleep but I don’t recall cramp ever feeling like this! This was man-cramp. My leg felt like it had a shark attached and I went from snore to roar in under a second. I did what any normal human would do and screamed. Actually I didn’t – I was about to when I remembered my loving wife (Claire) sound asleep beside me and being a caring husband (and a complete coward) I thought it best not to wake her at 5:30 in the morning.

So I slid out of bed (the only way I could actually move at the time) and tried to get rid of the cramp by stretching my leg – which of course hurt even more. So now I wanted to scream even more. Time to leave the room and scream elsewhere. They don’t call it cramp for nothing though and my first step resulted in a half lunge and me falling towards the bed. After a clever mid-fall twist which would have made Tom Daley proud I avoided the bed and landed on the floor – right on top of the leg with cramp. So I crawled to the bathroom, stuffed a flannel in my mouth and stretched my leg. After about ten minutes the pain (and the screaming) reduced enough for me to limp back to bed where my – ever so concerned – wife was probably dreaming about Jon Bon-Jovi but was definitely not awake. Phew. The venture was a success in one aspect at least.

I went from roar to snore in under a second. This was man-cramp!

And so back to sleep for all of around 10 minutes when my son (four at the time) started shouting “help!” from his bedroom. Despite some well placed elbows, Bon-Jovi was still holding my wife’s avid attention. So up I got and hobbled into the kids’ room to find him sitting up in the top bunk. He calmly explained that he’d had a nightmare and had “forgotten” to wake up in the middle of it to go to the toilet. The bed was soaked. His sister (three) was as out of it as my wife (but hopefully not dreaming about Jon Bon-Jovi) in the lower bunk. The manager in me took over and I decided that eighties musicians would have to move aside. I, gently, woke my wife and assigned her the task of dealing with our son while I dealt with the bed. Standing on the edge of the lower bunk (with my daughter still asleep in it) I stripped the top one and cleaned up. Eventually the bedding was all piled up and Catnip (his favourite toy) was sitting atop the pile like a wee-covered Guy Fawkes. I decided I’d take them down “in the morning”. By this time my son was clean and in dry jammies and clambered back into bed. I limped back to mine. My wife was already heading back to the eighties and my cramp was dying down so it seemed some sleep was on the cards.

Enter the cat

At this point the cat realised she had not played a big enough part in my morning. She also decided – what with all the moving around – that it must be time for her breakfast. Tempting as it was to help her out of the upstairs window, I hobbled downstairs and fed her with all the grace I could muster. Believe me, she was lucky I didn’t put a funnel in her mouth and pour it down! So after all that it was back to bed and what was left of my sleep.

Believe me at this point the cat was lucky I didn’t open her mouth and pour the food down for her!

But wait! There’s more. Apparently during my cramp-induced gymnastics I managed to knock my alarm clock off the bedside and turned it off. So half an hour after I was supposed to wake up, my son appeared beside my bed and gently shook me. “Ah bless” I thought ,“He probably wants some breakfast”. He probably did, but the reason he was waking me up was to say “Daddy, Pebbles has done a poo in my room”. Pebbles if you haven’t guessed is the afore-mentioned cat. Taking in this glorious news I just knew it would be on the rug and not on the – easy to clean – laminate flooring. “Where abouts?” I asked, anxiously. “On the bottom bunk” came the reply swiftly followed by – a very dead-pan – “and it’s all squishy”. This was enough to drag my wife back from her own personal Ashes-to-Ashes and she went to rescue our daughter from the cat’s new litter tray. After she returned while I limped towards my own personal Life On Mars to clean another bed. Meanwhile Mummy went through the checking-a-child-for-cat-poo-whilst-avoiding-getting-it-on-yourself-and-anything-else procedure (patent pending).

When I arrived there were indeed some “parcels of fun” from Pebbles the cat on the end of the bed and they were indeed, squishy. Not that my daughter had noticed. Apparently she had remained completely asleep while the cat did it’s business and – even with the squishy poo on her bed – I confess I was envious. The cat must have seen my face and decided this was not the time to ask for more food and she sat quietly by the back door waiting for me to open it. If she was smart she’d stay out there all day. I know my cat. She’s not that smart.

A twist in the tale

You’d think this story would end now wouldn’t you but, like an M. Night Shyamalan film, there’s one final plot twist. As I went out to deposit Pebbles’ – er – pebbles ( now in a bag ) into the dustbin I re-discovered that the day before my Father-in-Law ( who to be fair was just trying to be helpful ) had put the kitchen bin liner and put it next to our dustbin. I had “meant” to do something about that before going to bed because, bless him, he didn’t know the reason we have dustbins with lids where I live. They are called foxes and overnight a couple of the little beggars had ripped that bin bag to shreds and spread the contents – offering like – before my front door. They were obviously looking for waste food. Ha! Waste food in our house – nice one.

So there I stood, tired, in bare feet, only one of which I could stand on, holding a bag of poo, before a sea of kitchen waste. Hey, at least the sun was shining. Right in my eyes! So I mopped up the sea, deposited the bag o’ poo and glanced at the clock. Arrghhh – 7:45 – I was supposed to leave at 7:30!

So while “this is the day that the Lord has made” would seem ironic at that moment. “We will rejoice and be glad in it” was a particular struggle. I really hope that was an abnormal day. Because if it wasn’t, there’s a risk that it could happen again and I’m not sure I could survive two days like that.

I know for a fact that my cat won’t!

P.S. My wife has asked me to point out that the bit about Bon Jovi is entirely without evidence or factual basis and is simply a pre-supposition on my part. Glad to get the legal part over but I would like to say that she was very excited when I later gave her tickets to a Bon-Jovi concert

It’s a popular meme at this time of year that Christmas is for the kids and — incarnation of God and beginning of the world’s salvation not withstanding — it probably is as well.

Having two of the little ones myself I thought it might be nice to share some of the Christmas-related, children-related quotes and events that I’ve encountered. Some happened this year, others in previous years.

Fair’s fair

My two were clamouring for one of the chocolates on offer after the carol service. I said they could have one each. My eldest (6 at the time) spotted the mince pies and — putting on his best smile — asked “Can I have a mince pie as well Dad?”. It’s Christmas. I said yes. At which point my youngest (4 at the time) started rifling through the tin of chocolates. When I asked what she was doing she responded (without looking up or stopping the rifling) with: “I don’t want a mince pie!”.

Guess who’s coming to town

It was six days before Christmas and to say my two were excited is a gross understatement. School was out and they were gearing up for the big night in a big way. Despite their excitement we managed to get them upstairs to get ready for bed. I took the opportunity to make a cup of tea and after stirring, tapped the mug with the teaspoon (I don’t know, it’s a thing I always do). It made a slight tinging sound at which the two kids thundered down the stairs shouting “We heard the bells! Where’s Father Christmas?”

New takes on the old old story

We’ve all encountered children who think the wise men brought “Gold, Frankenstein and Myrrh” but there are other cases of new words being used in the old story. I personally got in trouble as a child for saying the shepherds were washing their socks. I’ve also heard a version of Away in a manger where the cattle were “glowing” (presumably from standing too close to the angels). A friend’s child once asked why Mary and Joseph didn’t just drive home again if all the hotels were booked up but perhaps my favourite is the child who asked where the horses slept with all those people crowded in the stable.

The Real Father Christmas

When my niece was young I took her to see one of the many Father Christmas’s in a local shopping centre. Whilst queueing we passed the people exiting excitedly with their presents (and an emptier wallet). I heard a parent ask their little one if they enjoyed seeing Father Christmas. The child responded with “yes and I think this one is the real one not some bloke pretending”. Then there was a pause and then the big brother (who was looking very fed up) said  “He could do with getting his beard dry cleaned though!”.

The look that the parent gave the older child would have made Medusa proud.

The trials of Christmas shopping

Last year I was in a shopping centre, a week or so before Christmas and took a moment to grab a rest while waiting for my wife. A Mother and her three children stopped and readjusted their myriad of bags next to me. The mother started running through her – mental – checklist to ensure they hadn’t forgotten anything. As she listed the gifts they had bought and who they were for, the middle of the three children began to interrupt. “Mum..”. The mother held up her hand to summon silence. “But..” Again the mother held up her hand and this continued through the list. Satisfied that they hadn’t forgotten anything she declared they could now go home. She then turned and asked what the middle child wanted. “I think Dad’s still in GAME” they said at which point the youngest threw up her arms and said “Oh great! We’ll never get him out of there!” (For those who don’t know, GAME is a popular video game store in the UK)

If you have any of your own, feel free to add them as comments here.

Happy Christmas

One of the main attractions

During the summer our family visited Suffolk and spent some time doing the tourist bit. We found some great examples of things to do – particularly if you are dragging under 8s around. One shining example was the Oasis Camel Centre.

It’s a bit tricky to find as it’s buried in the heart of Suffolk farm land. That said, there’s a great map on their website which would have been handy had we bothered to prepare this trip before we went on holiday. As the name suggests the main attraction of the place are the camels which are fab. Twice a day there is a meet the camel session during which you can get right up close to one of the magnificent creatures. It being a little harder to get to and not as well known as other Suffolk animal attractions (such as Africa Live) actually works in our favour here as it’s not overly crowded. That said it’s not exactly empty either.

But it’s not just camels, there are llamas, al-pacas and rhea (see below), along with ponies, donkeys, pig and the almost ubiquitous goats, rabbits and peacocks. Add to that the very well kept play areas (including a covered bouncy castle area) and the small but clean and functional cafe and you have a really good out. The entrance prices are reasonable, staff friendly and facilities are good and most importantly the animals are clearly well looked after with plenty of room and you can see they are cared for.

For reference our party consisted of adults in their 30s, 40s and 70s as well as a four and five (sorry nearly six) year old and all of us had a good time. So if you are Suffolk and find yourself wondering what to do, I really recommend the Oasis Camel Centre.

Some welsh cakes I made - image (c) Ryan Cartwright CC:By-SA

Welsh cakes, sometimes called “bakestones” or as my family calls them – “plank-cooks”, are something I’ve enjoyed cooking and eating since I was small. I’ve made them for friends and colleagues to a warm reception. Many have asked for the recipe so here it is. There are lots of welsh cake variations, usually regional. I don’t claim these are the best or easiest they are just the ones that four generations of my family have made.

This makes about 30. Preparation takes around 30 mins. Cooking takes about 45 mins and you need to be there for all of it.

Ingredients

• 1lb/450g Self-raising flour
• ½lb/225g Butter
• 6oz/170g Caster sugar
• 12oz/340g Currants
• 3 Eggs
• drop of milk

Alternatives

• I’ve given both imperial (UK) and metric but in reality I’ve always measured this is imperial so the metric is an approximation.
• You can use Margarine in place of butter but make sure it’s a suitable for baking one (e.g. not Flora light!).
• You can use Sultanas in place of the currants. Raisins will do at a push but can go bitter at the cooking stage.
• I’ve made a sugar-free version (for diabetics) using granular Canderel – use ¾oz/20g in place of all the sugar.

Method

1. Sift the flour ( not strictly required but makes for a smoother mix)
2. Rub the butter into the flour until it is like breadcrumbs
3. Add the fruit and sugar and mix together
4. Add the eggs and mix well
5. Add the milk very gradually while mixing. The consistency you are looking for is like sticky pastry. Not too dry or it will break up when cooking but too sticky will make it hard to roll out.
6. Roll out the mix on a floured surface. Roll it until it is about ¼” / ½ cm thick.
7. Cut into 2½” / 7cm rounds. I use a pastry cutter but my Nan always used the same teacup!
8. Cook on a greased (with butter) smooth griddle or heavy frying pan. They usually take about 30 seconds on each side – until they are brown but not burned. Flip them once and leave to cool.
9. Dust with caster or icing sugar.

Serving

Best served slightly warm with a bit of butter and cup of tea! They are not usually accompanied by jam or cream. if you want that make scones.

Storing

They will keep in an air-tight container for a few days without drying out. You can freeze them when they have cooled properly. Defrost at room temperature and enjoy.

Notes

Don’t be tempted to cook them for too long or they burn. If the inside seems less cooked when you take them off that’s fine. It continues to cook slightly and if you leave them on too long the outside burns and that tastes horrible. My Nan taught me to flip them using my hands (careful though). She said if you could lift them and the underside was stiff they were ready to turn , if they bend too much then you need to leave them a bit.

You can also freeze the dough once it is made and defrost it before cooking but in my experience the best ones are made from fresh dough. In a similar way some recipes recommend chilling the dough for a couple of hours before cooking but that’s not something I was ever taught to do or have tried (habit I guess).

Traditionally they are baked on a smooth griddle – often called a plank or stone. A heavy or thick frying pan will do but some of the more modern frying pans transmit the heat too quickly and the cakes burn. DO NOT use oil on the griddle/pan – instead grease it with buttere

Yesterday the weather people said we should expect “light” snow for the next couple of days. We woke up to find it snowing all day and now we’ve had around 8 inches of snow.

Still – the wonders of the Internet – I’ve been working from home all day – with a short break early on to help my kids build this fella (and have a snowball fight or three!).

Snowman