As a child you’re generally unaware of your situation compared to anyone else’s. This changes as you grow and you start to compare, to desire the things you don’t have, and to see yourself as others do. I’d like to think that I’m grateful for everything I now have and willing to work hard for the things I don’t. This may have something to do with my upbringing – the daughter of an RAF engineer and a civil servant, we weren’t exactly in the overly affluent section and, as my mother likes to remind me whenever I’ve had a snobbish moment, I grew up on the RAF equivalent of a council estate.
I remember the bases we lived on, but I don’t remember them as anything other than the playground of my youth. When I recently revisited one I saw it in a different light, becoming only too aware of the cheap housing stock and the industrial looking finish. It bothered me a little, made me wonder if times were hard for my parents, if they had the life they wanted or if it were a compromise. It also humbled me, made me check myself for caring so much that my own house is in such a tumble-down state, and to be grateful that we have the means to own a house at all.
My mum’s menus were pretty standard fare; mince and boiled potatoes, roast dinners, sausages and mash. I swear I was probably in my late teens before I tasted a red pepper or even knew what an avocado was. It’s fair to say we were pretty reserved. My relationship with food has had its ups and downs. These days we’re pretty sorted, I enjoy a good meal and of course I cook for my family on a daily basis, but food is just not all that important to me, a fact which might explain why after an hour spent searching, I can find hardly ANY pictures on a food theme.
I did find one though, one that reminded me of the time that my mother finally admitted that the stew that she used to regularly dish up was not chicken, as she had always insisted, but rabbit. I think her oldest granddaughter might be stealing her menu ideas*:
*This was not set-up for the purposes of the gallery – my children really are this strange….