Our Friend From Spain #SoCs

The prompt for Linda G Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday (#SoCS) is ‘Trip’. Use it any way you’d like. Part one.

We had a Spanish exchange student staying with us last year from the end of August until mid-December. It was a wonderful experience for our family, especially Little Miss Ten. She and Alicia got on so well together.

Lucy struggled to settle back into school after lockdown and suffered from low confidence and a little bit of anxiety.

This was the reason why we decided to accept an exchange student. Not so that they’d be firm friends, but to have another young person in the house, getting up for school each morning, coming home full of tales—some of woe, some of wow—and then sitting down to do homework.

Lucy’s three siblings are independent young adults who live about three hours away, so she’s a lot like an only child. Don’t feel sorry for her—it has its perks!

Our plan went much better than we expected. From the first day, Alicia and Lucy connected. Her English was excellent too. And she could do a great Cork accent. “Me nerves George…me nerves.”

As the days went on, Lucy became more like her old self. Funny, talkative and confident. Alicia was kind to Lucy and spent a lot of quality time with her. They had lots of chats and Alicia listened to all Lucy’s little concerns. She advised her, she told her about her own struggles of being a 14-year-old teenager. She talked about her dreams and ambitions. Thank goodness Alicia has realistic goals and appealing dreams.

Last week in school, Lucy had to draw a picture of a person who inspires her. I was so happy that she drew Alicia.

Alicia was very honest. She said it as it was! This turned out to be a good thing because we all knew where we stood with each other. We had one or two very minor issues, but once we mastered the task of keeping the lines of communication running smoothly, everyone was happy.

She was tidy, reliable, trustworthy and she ate everything she was given. A lot of it! We joked a lot about how much food a small person could eat.

‘Where do you put it?’ Stephano would ask. ‘How do you stay thin?’

‘Genetics Stephan.’

She had a good answer for everything.

It was great that she ate well because I must admit, the food was the one thing I worried about. Teens can be fussy eaters at the best of times, and in a foreign country, it could be a problem.

We cried when Alicia was leaving. We missed her so much. Her smiles, her upbeat attitude and her chats. But that was not the last we heard from her. She calls Lucy a lot, we chat on WhatsApp.

And the best thing of all—we’re taking a trip to Santander where Alicia is from. We will stay for four nights and visit Alicia and her family while we’re there. We’re all very excited.

Alicia gave me permission to use her image on my blog.

Alicia told us some very important news a couple of days ago. About a special trip her dad is taking. You can read all about that HERE in part two of #SoCS

Bless me Father for I Have Sinned #100DaysOfOldDays

Day 17 #100DaysOfOldDays

I haven’t been inside a confession box in years. Since 1992 to be exact. Any sins I’ve committed since then, I’ve confessed in the privacy of my own head. Not that I have much to confess!

As children we used to go to confessions every second Saturday. The three pews beside the confession box would be full of school children.

The chapel was huge in the eyes of a small child, and every little noise echoed from high ceilings to tiled floors, convincing innocent little minds that the holy statues were alive. Anxious little sinners whispered, asking each other what the devil made them do since their last confession.

Hearts thumped in their little ribcages, as the priest’s shutter closed briskly, and the one opposite opened. When one child left the box, the next in line entered. Then the seats would creak, as the others slid across one by one, getting closer to their turn. The nearer you got to the box, the faster your heart would beat.

You were so close now you could hear the mumblings of the priest, and the soft whispers of your fellow delinquent pleading for forgiveness. Or it might be the Pam Ayres sound-alike, rhyming her sins off so loud even the nuns in the front pew prayed for her!

Once inside the box, there was no turning back. It took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the darkness, all the time you’re rehearsing your sins in your head because if you were to forget one, you’d go home with a black spot on what was meant to be a squeaky clean soul. And the mad thing is; the sins were the same every time. I was disobedient, I was unkind, I told lies and I cursed. Every time!

It was important to be quick about it too, because the longer you spent in the confession box, the more sins people said you had.

The same rule applied to how long you spent saying your penance when you came out. If you spent too long on your knees, it was assumed you had a lot to be sorry for.

Usually it was three Hail Marys and one Our Father, and the Act of Contrition. I remember one lad having to say a decade of the Rosary. He actually grew up to be a grand fella…so he did!

I Want a Medal for This

I swear I wouldn’t win any prizes for my baking skills. I can barely manage to make the simple Irish soda bread. My scones are flat and cake making takes hours (for me).

So, you can imagine my excitement when I made the perfect Yeast Artisan Bread this morning! “Straight out of Mary Berry’s oven” perfect!

Just 4 ingredients. Flour, yeast, salt and water! Now, I have no idea what Robin Hood Blending Flour is, so I used ordinary plain flour. It must have come from his merry men, because it did the job for me.

When I removed the cling film from my dough, which I made the night before, it looked very sticky, but as soon as I began to shape it into a ball it was very obedient and came together nicely.

Looks messy!

I don’t own a Dutch oven—I didn’t know there was such a thing—so I used the dish from my slow cooker. Oven safe with high sides. There’s always a way!

The smell of my bread baking and my coffee brewing, wafted through every keyhole in the house. Even the dog was smiling!

The hardest part of this process was waiting for the bread to cool.

You should have seen the super smug smile spread across my sweet face, (say that fast) as I spooned some of my homemade greengage jam all over my warm bread!

I’m afraid I’ll have to hide it from myself!

Of course…you’re waiting for the link to the recipe, aren’t you!

Esme Salon has many fabulous tried and tested recipes on her blog. Do have a wander around when you’re there!

Here’s the link to the Yeast Artisan Bread! Enjoy! 5 Easy Amazing Bread Recipes for Beginners