on request

 

Now that we are considering the reality - rather than a more abstract idea - of two children leaving home, I sometimes find myself wondering what they will remember of their first eighteen years once they have left. And I am realising more and more that it won't be what I would expect them to remember. Oh no, it will be all kinds of odds and ends, bits and pieces, many of which I will never be able to recall (that's when they will roll their eyes and ask how could I forget something I never thought worth remembering) and many of which will no doubt surprise me.

 

I say all this because I was taken aback by a request from a 6' 2" seventeen year old who, you might think, had moved on fully to Nando's and curries and industrial quantities of salami and cheese. Earlier this week he mentioned that for ages I hadn't made 'those little chocolate cakes where you cut off the tops and do something with them' . He might not remember the name of butterfly cakes, but buried deep inside is a butterfly cake memory, one I hadn't even considered might be there because I was too busy thinking of the major stuff (which might, for all I know, have failed to have any impact on either of them; such are the mysteries of being a parent). 

Ahhh. How could I not make them after that?

[Two things. 1) The light is much better today as you can see from the photos. And 2) the hats were made up as I went along after consulting various hat patterns in various books, so I don't have any written record of what I did. Like the children's filtered memories, I can only remember the fun of knitting with beautiful colours and nothing of the construction.]

Comments

[Charlotte]

Thanks for the notes on the knitting, Jane, though I have to say that I read them with a little pang! I do wish I could knit so confidently, one day maybe. And on the matter of the children's unexpected memories, I too am constantly surprised by what my girls do and do not choose to store away. Just as my sisters and I have all sorts of shared stuff that our parents had no knowledge of, I always wonder, particularly when I hear late night giggling, what they are keeping from me.

[Anja]

I still think you should do a bit of knitting archaeology and write up a pattern for those hats :) They are lovely!

[Gemma]

Butterfly cakes loom large in my memory too which always surprises my Mum too. Ours were always vanilla and butter-cream though, normally with mini eggs! So I completely get where he is coming from!

[Janice]

I'm already dreading mine leaving home and they're just 13 and 10. I, too, wonder what they'll remember, how they'll edit their childhood. I'm concentrating on appreciating our family life as it is now and enjoying the times we have together - even the squabbles!

[Hen]

It's funny, the things they associate with home. The cakes look yummy and what a beautiful cloth. Great pics, thanks.

[shan]

I hear you regarding the "how could I not make them" thing.

The hats are cute!

[Helen Sturgess]

My daughter went to Bristol Uni in September and I am getting cake/biscuit orders by text, email and phone. Slight alterations to my repertoire and I find they travel well by post! In fact I wonder if I am making more than before.... They are always there in your heart, Jane, if not in the kitchen! From a loyal long term reader who has never commented before! Helen

[frances]

Yes, Jane, there is no accounting for what we remember. At any age.

Those butterfly cupcakes do look like something I'd want to remember, and if I'd the childhood memory of actually tasting them... well!

The knitted two by two caps are beautiful and show how classis basic design motifs continue to rise above the complications of a particular trend of the season.

Funny... I've been knitting lots of Christmas gifts, and have just about now finished a long scarf done in that same 2x2.

Best wishes.

[Karoline]

My two year old took one look at these and demanded that we make chocolate 'flutterby' buns. So of course we did.

[potterjotter]

Yep - I have found this with my two 'leavers'. Its not the big things, its the funny little things.