This is the Banana and Coconut Loaf I made for my colleagues to eat during our department meeting. It’s a lovely moist loaf. (See recipe below). I think banana & coconut is a winning combination. It always feels like a waste to throw out over ripe bananas so I find myself using them up in a bake. It’s a silly idea really as I end up using a whole load of other ingredients (flour, eggs, sugar etc) just to avoid throwing out two bananas! Its a very easy loaf to make, so go on, sweeten up your work meetings with a slice of cake.

Somebody I know described grieving to being like a boat on the ocean without a mooring. As an ex sailor this image has stayed with me. I know that the sea can be a very unforgiving place. I also know what it’s like to look towards land and feel completely removed from what is going on there. Conor’s daddy & I are good swimmers but being out at sea can be incredibly lonely and frightening. Sometimes we get a glimpse of what it might be like back on dry land but for the most part, just one year on, we are still out at sea.

I have been giving a lot of thought to what’s helping us stay afloat. It’s the idea of CONNECTION.  Much of our young adult lives are spent making friends and looking for life partners. I am always amazed by the effort Irish people go to to find people in common.  I’ve even been asked “You’re  from London, do you know……… ?” The need to connect becomes even stronger after a life changing event like a death of a loved one. When we connect with other bereaved people we learn we are not alone. For a while we stop asking “why us?” because we realise there are others with no moorings too. Our connections with those on dry land remind us that people care and that we haven’t been forgotten. It makes reaching dry land seem more achievable. During better days we have the energy needed to connect with others. Yet its during the bad days that we can find ourselves alone and most in need.

Through the power of social media we have found ourselves connected with a man whose young wife died the same year as our Conor. Spotting a beautiful but heartbreaking picture of a man on a tandem with daisies where his wife should be drew my attention to his story. Dave and his dog Lotte are cycling from Croatia back to the UK raising funds for his wife Emma’s favourite charities and planting Daisies along the way. After a short exchange of messages Dave dedicated a day of his cycle to our Conor. I invite you to read about Conor’s day in Croatia on Dave’s website daisytrailcycle.com. I subsequently received an amazing gift of a picture from Dave’s friend Sarah which I’d like to share (look carefully at the reflection)…

At the start of this week Dave and Sarah were two strangers. Their generosity and interest in Conor tamed a potential storm and will never be forgotten

This week I returned to the workplace. It was always going to be a tough milestone. One year ago I left work to start my maternity leave a very different person. I didn’t think life could get any better. One year on my heart breaks for the loss of Conor and more recently my dear Dad. I feel like I have landed back into the workplace having been shipwrecked. I have a wonderful manager and colleagues who are going out of their way to help me to settle back. After Conor died my manager sought the advice of someone whose job it is to support bereaved parents. She was told “keep in touch, even if you feel like you are being pushed away and be the one to initiate”. This is exactly what my colleagues did. Over the year they connected and reconnected with me. I felt like I was returning to open arms that would be ready with lifeboats if needed.

Knowing now what it feels like to be at sea without a mooring, my manager could not have been given better advice. I previously would have thought that if it felt like I was being pushed away, I should back off. Now I realise that connections really can be lifesaving.

*Top tip

Here’s today’s recipe:

• 250 g plain flour
• 1 1/2 tsp baking powder
• 200 g caster sugar
• 55 g desiccated coconut
• 2 eggs
• 90 ml sunflower oil
• 2 ripe bananas
• 125 ml soured cream (I use buttermilk)
• 1 tsp vanilla extract ( use the good stuff and not cheap vanilla essence)

Preheat the oven to 180. Line a medium loaf tin. Mix all the dry ingredients in a bowl. (I don’t sieve flour but mix with a hand whisk.) In another bowl beat all the wet ingredients. Pour the wet mixture into the dry ingredients and mix gently until the mix is evenly combined. Spoon into the lined tin and cook for about 1 hour until risen and golden brown. Good Luck!

For this animal themed post I wish to share the cat cupcakes I recently made for my brother in law ‘s birthday. Knowing I’d be bringing a cake he requested a cat themed one. I was told it’s an ongoing joke with his friends.  I googled “cat cakes” and found the most amazing creations. I copied the one I thought looked the most do-able. They are decorated with white chocolate buttons & smarties.

I have been struggling for sometime with the “elephant in the room”. The Cambridge English Dictionary describes this notion as “an obvious problem or difficult situation that people do not want to talk about”. One situation that always sets me back is finding myself in the company of people I know, who would rather talk about anything other than my loss. One year on my favourite subject is still Conor. Do people really think I’d rather talk about the weather? I want and need to talk about my son. I have come away from phone calls and face to face interactions where my loss is not mentioned feeling broken. On the flip side, a conversation about my son or my new life can take me out of a dark place.

As if I am not dealing with enough in my new life, I have given myself a hard time over this constant need to have my loss acknowledged and my son mentioned. I wonder if I am being selfish needing to tell my story over and over. I don’t like feeling needy. I get annoyed with myself for having too high expectations. I am told that people do care its just they don’t know what to do or say. For fear of upsetting me or feeling uncomfortable people say nothing. I asked Conor’s Daddy about why I have this constant need for acknowledgement. He advised me to stop asking Why? and to recognise this same need in all the other bereaved parents we’ve met.

This week the tv soap “Eastenders” featured a storyline about a stillbirth. Its not a show I watch and I couldn’t bring myself to watch my story played out on the small screen. The program was followed by a helpline number. The fact this topic warranted a helpline number and numerous warnings has reminded me of the enormity of our loss. I am living every parents worst nightmare. How could I not be broken hearted and how could I not be feeling this much pain. I lost my only child. By listening to me and acknowledging my pain you are validating both my loss and my emotional response to my loss. You are telling me “its ok not to be ok” and that I have the right to feel like I do. By changing the subject you are giving the message that my son and my feelings do not count. I realise am not being selfish, I am simply doing what I need to do to survive this loss.

Currently on Twitter #SayTheirName is trending. It was started by the actress who played the heartbroken mother in “Eastenders”. Lets hope we can spread the message and get rid of all the elephants from the rooms of bereaved parents. Cat cupcakes are far better company.

Watching the bakers make baguettes during The Great British Bake Off’s bread week took me back to the wonderful summer I spent eating fresh food in France. I worked and lived in a community for adults with disabilities. Twice a day we had a delivery of fresh baguettes from the local bakery. Having been brought up eating tasteless sliced loaves, I found myself in bread heaven. All our food including meat and produce was fresh. During a recent visit to Paris I observed the city centre to be a series of mini villages. Bakeries, butchers & grocery shops are buzzing with customers. Sadly where we live in Dublin there is no “village” for fresh food on our doorstep.  If I want to eat fresh bread, I have to make my own. For the first time I attempted baguettes. The bake only uses 4 ingredients (flour, yeast, salt & water.) The recipe I used (see below) allowed me to use the dough hook in my free standing mixer. This took out the effort and mess of kneading a wet dough. The result was absolutely delicious and a real treat. I had low expectations as my baguettes didn’t double in size while resting like the recipe described but I’ve discovered skinny (walking stick shaped) baguettes taste good too!

While working in France I quickly had to learn a new way to greet people. It was the role of the person arriving to go around the room acknowledging each individual. Women kissed men and women (one on each cheek). Men kissed women and shoke hands with other men. We asked and responded to “ça va?” (How are you?). Mealtimes were sociable, everyone ate slowly together and no one left the lunch table until long after the food was finished. When pregnant with Conor the idealist in me visualised a lifetime of French style mealtimes with each family member being given the opportunity to talk and be listened to.

As a young adult I moved to Dublin and for the second time in my life I found myself having to think about social greetings. I noticed people asked me  “Howaya or how are you?” however, by the time I delivered my stock phrase “I’m fine thank you, how are you?” the person asking would be long gone. I learnt they were simply meaning “hello”.

I’ve had to re-think the question “how are you?” in my new life. Now people who know me and know about Conor ask the question and (usually) wait for a response.  I gave my mother a hard time in those first weeks after Conor died. She continually asked me the question and I responded through my sobs with “what a stupid question, can you not see how I am?” Looking back, I think she was probably asking “are you feeling any better – yet?” as it hurt her to see her daughter like this. It has been so difficult trying to think of how to answer “how are you?”. It is such an enormous question and does the person asking it really want to know the depths of the pain I feel? Some mothers I’ve met simply answer “I’m fine” when they know they are not fine. I made a vow to myself from very early on that I would be honest when asked. I knew it would be too exhausting for me to pretend otherwise. I have learnt a new way of interpreting the question “how are you?”; I now hear “how are you … today?” This question is much more manageable.  I answer honestly according to how I am on a given day. My new stock phrases are “I’m having a good day/I’m having a bad day”. I hope on bad days I get a chance to talk and be listened to. Why ask me how I am if you are not prepared to go with the answer? I know that my honesty leaves some people feeling uncomfortable. However, I know that for them this feeling will be temporary and they will quickly get back to their own lives. I would have a lifetime of  pretending if I simply said “fine”.  In learning to live my new life I know honesty is my best policy.

We all know people struggling right now with grief, depression, illness, stress etc.  My message to you is to think about how you greet and ask that all important question. Don’t just say hello but think  about asking;

“how are you … today?”

Please spread the word and share this message.

*top tip

Here’s the recipe. I wouldn’t attempt this without a free standing mixer. There are no preservatives in the recipe so you’ll need to eat the bread on the day you bake it.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/paul_hollywoods_55351

This is one of a batch of Portuguese Custard Tarts I made at the weekend. I grew up on custard being poured over sponges, tinned fruit and often just into empty bowls during school and university refectory dinners. Not one of those puddings from my childhood comes close to the delicious custard taste in this tart. The Portuguese have got it right. It was my first time making custard and I can’t believe I waited until now to give it a try. I used a very simple recipe from the BBC (see below for link). I’m still amazed that the eggs didn’t scramble while heating the custard ingredients over the pan. I cheated and used ready to roll puff pastry. A professional baker I once met told me that life is too short for making puff pastry! If a professional can cheat then so can an enthusiastic amateur. It’s not my prettiest bake but it was up there for taste sensation. Next time I plan to use all butter puff pastry and will shape the pastry into higher sided cups to contain the filling better.

Conor is now world famous. I have no idea who is reading our story but I know which countries any readers log in from. There have even been two viewings from Portugal; home of the delicious Portuguese Tart. After Conor died, his Daddy and I came off social media. We closed down our (not very active) Facebook accounts as we wanted to protect ourselves and control how and when we heard news.  Our little house in Dublin became our world.

Today is “Day of Hope”. All over the world bereaved parents are flying prayer flags they have made to honour their babies who didn’t get to stay. All over the world the breeze is sending out our prayers. Here are the flags made by Conor’s wee cousin, his Auntie and me, his Mummy:

We made Conor’s flags on a day that now holds very special memories. We all met at my parent’s house to celebrate Conor’s cousin’s 6th birthday. It became clear to us that this would be our last day all together as my father’s health was deteriorating. Stars of course feature but the middle flag also contains buttons from one of my Dad’s shirts and a metal button from an old pair of his jeans saying “Hold Fast”.  Within four days of us making these Conor’s Grandad John passed away.  Conor’s flags have been flown in my parent’s garden in London and are currently flying in our garden. We also brought them with us and hung them out during our walk around Howth Head in Dublin. This is a walk Conor’s Daddy and I do regularly to “recharge”.

I no longer know who or what I need to pray to for my intentions but I get great energy  and comfort from being part of this Day of Hope and from being part of this international community of mothers and fathers.  I am back on Facebook and twitter following bereaved parent groups and I am also part of an internet discussion forum. This time I am more active than ever. I follow, like, post, comment, tweet and reply. I know I am not alone. All over the world there are mothers just like me missing their sons and daughters and without social media we would not have found each other.  Thanks to social media Conor is now “well travelled”:

I’d like to say a big thank you to all those parents who support each other online and to Carly Marie in Australia who set up today’s Day of Hope as part of her “project heal” following the loss of her son Christian http://www.carlymarieprojectheal.com.  Conor has even travelled as far as Christian’s beach in Australia:

*Top tip:

Here’s the link to today’s recipe. Remember, it’s ok to use pre-made pastry. Jus-Rol makes all butter puff pastry.

http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/1812636/portugese-custard-tarts

Letter to Conor on his 1st Birthday …

 

 

Dear Conor,

Happy 1st Birthday to you,

We hope you like the star cake and star balloon. We made the cake in your Grandma’s kitchen using her hand held mixer. The mixer is older than your Mummy. Grandma used to make your Mummy cakes with that mixer when she was a little girl. Your Mummy loved icing them best and didn’t like it when your Grandma added currants. Your little cousins helped blow out your candle.

There is so much we’d like to tell you Conor. Firstly we want to tell you how much you are loved. We cherished every kick and moment spent with you growing with us. We grew with you too over those 41 weeks. We love you still and it breaks our heart that we are spending your first birthday away from you. We miss you terribly. We hope Grandad John is keeping you and your friends (all the babies we’ve come to know through ALLF, Feileacain & Pilltown) entertained.

At your service we promised to “Strive to live in love for in that love I live”. We want to tell you that our love for each other is so much stronger since the day we met you. We have also been surrounded by so much love from our families and friends. Through you we have made some very special new friends too.

We want to say Thank You Conor for making us parents. Since we made the commitment to spend our lives together this is the role we wanted. We wish more than anything the outcome had been different but we do not regret those 41 weeks we spent together. Either one of us would have given our lives if it could have saved you. My only regret is that I didn’t insist the Doctor keep me in to deliver you on the day we heard the words “everything is perfect, you’ve nothing to worry about”. We all know you’d be here with us sticking your finger in the cake if we did. We try Conor but I don’t know if we’ll ever make peace with this. We hope that one day a clever engineer will invent a time machine so we can change the events of last summer. Maybe its something you and Grandad John could work on for us.

Be assured Conor that we will never forget you. We tell everyone all about you. There are people all over the world who now know your name from reading your story. There are people who think of you when they see stars or bake cakes. We celebrate every text, email and conversation where your name is used, especially those messages that arrive on just an ordinary day. You are and always will be our first born son, a grandson, nephew and cousin.

Happy birthday with lots of love from your Mummy and Daddy xxx
*Top tip.

If you find yourself needing to bake a quick cake away from home and away from all your usual kitchen gadgets I recommend Mary Berry’s Victoria Sandwich. It’s a very easy “all in one” bake;

http://www.maryberry.co.uk/recipes/great-british-bake-off-recipes/victoria-sandwich

I decorated the cake using butter icing and Smarties. The butter icing was made by mixing 200g butter (always real butter in our kitchen) with 400g sifted icing sugar and a splash of vanilla extract. I covered the cake with an initial thin layer, chilled the cake in the fridge for 30 mins and then put on the top layer of icing. This means the top layer is clear of cake crumbs.

This week I’ve decided to feature my Low Sugar Coconut Granola. It makes for a delicious and nutritious breakfast when served with organic natural yoghurt and fruit. I wasn’t sure if I’d include it in Cakes for Conor. It isn’t a pretty cake but it does get baked in the oven and eaten more than anything else in our house. It’s very easy to make by mixing the dry ingredients with melted coconut oil and maple syrup before baking. It gives off a lovely smell from the oven. Coconut is one of my favourite foods and so this recipe was always going to be a hit.

I made a decision in the weeks after Conor died that we would only be able to survive our loss if we stayed healthy. We eat well (hence low sugar coconut granola), make dinners from scratch and follow a healthy lifestyle. The cakes and biscuits normally featured are for visitors or given away. I’ve even stopped myself from licking the bowl! Neither of us has had even a common cold all year so we must be doing something right.

There’s one thing I can’t get right with just a healthy lifestyle and that’s sleep. I’ve eliminated caffeine, set up a bedtime routine and carefully chosen reading material. My poor mind is so busy at night. As the lights go off in the house, its like someone switches on floodlights in my brain. Just like any new parent, I long for a good night’s sleep. I was advised to write to try to improve my sleep. It has certainly helped but I am not cured. During my pregnancy my sleeps were interrupted with toilet visits. I never complained seeing it as preparation for night feeds and teething cries. The last night I slept completely through the night is the night Conor died. I know he kicked as I was heading to bed but I think he must have died soon after that. There were no kicks or wriggles during the night to wake me. It didn’t take me long in the morning to realise something was wrong. There was no “good morning Mummy” kick to start my day. I have been assured by the doctors that Conor felt no pain. We both fell into a deep sleep that fateful night but only one of us woke up.

I often remember dreams. In the dreams in my old life I was quite the hero and regularly solved crimes. Since Conor died I’ve become the victim. In those first weeks of my new life death featured heavily in dreams. Conor’s daddy was washed away by a big wave and dropped dead of a heart attack in another. I witnessed someone in my clothes throw herself off a building. On one occasion I had a horrible nightmare taking me back to bad news day. I became afraid of closing my eyes while well wishers were telling me to have a lie down. Slowly sleep and dreams have improved and bedtime is now my favourite time of the day. On one occasion I dreamt about Conor and it felt good. I can’t believe he doesn’t feature every night because he dominates my daytime thoughts. I have also had dreams about a happier future. I still wake every night in the wee small hours and sometimes it takes me a long time to get off to sleep. I write down my thoughts and fears when this happens and try to clear my head. Some of my best work happens at 5am! I am no longer afraid of sleep or afraid of waking. My gorgeous little niece told me she dreams about baby Conor. She dreams that his Daddy takes him swimming. She also believes that he dreams. When asked what he dreams about, she replied “his Mummy”. Night night and sweet dreams baby Conor.

*Top tips.

Low-sugar coconut granola

This is the recipe I use. I no longer add dried fruit as the fruit has a tendency to burn. I add the coconut flakes half way through so they don’t burn. Its a bit time consuming as you need to bake the granola in small batches but it’s well worth it. Cheap granola is full of sugar and the healthy stuff is super expensive.

Music and colour are slowly returning to our lives. I thought I’d mark this huge milestone with some colourful iced biscuits.  I used the biscuit recipe from the beautiful book “Saved by Cake” by the Irish writer Marian Keyes. The book and the bakes tell Marian’s story as she finds baking helps during a battle with depression. While the girlie Marian makes handbags and shoes, I of course made stars. For the first time since starting Cakes for Conor I had music playing in the background. I spent a lovely afternoon mixing and piping the colourful royal icing. It took me back to the colouring in activities I loved as a child.

Some cultures impose periods of mourning on the bereaved.  People wear black, withdraw from social occasions and observe quiet, reserved behaviours. No one imposed any rules on us but our lives lost colour and sound for a while. Our home became a dark, silent place after Conor died. In the early days we couldn’t bear sound of any kind. The radio and TV were kept off. The silence left some visitors restless and uncomfortable but to us noise was overwhelming. The two days spent in the maternity hospital were noisy for all the wrong reasons. To drown out the sounds of new born babies crying from the other delivery suites we had a radio tuned into Lyric Fm. Conor’s Daddy has an amazing ability to recognise songs from their first notes. He could probably name most of the tunes played that weekend. Those hours spent with Lyric Fm’s easy listening playlist has damaged our ability to enjoy music. While it’s not for others to tell anyone how to grieve, I can see how periods of mourning may help to protect the bereaved and give them time to re-adjust to their new lives.

I have given a lot of thought to why music has been problematic for us. It has been about more than just seeking silence. The former British Prime Minister Gordon Brown talked about being unable to listen to music after the death of his baby girl. Some other bereaved parents I now know have described the same. Music, memory and emotion are so strongly linked and I think this is the cause. I don’t think Conor’s Daddy will ever be able to listen to Pearl Jam whose latest album was his soundtrack to our pregnancy.  It was months before Conor’s Daddy could even sit in a cafe with background music. Music caught us off guard. Without warning songs were played that could trigger painful memories. There were moments from our time in the materity hospital we never want to forget. Equally there are moments we never want to remember. Just four months after Conor died we went to a Morrissey gig. I never missed his gigs so it seemed like the right thing to do as I mistakenly thought I needed to re-build my old life. I couldn’t stop crying and left early. His songs took me back to my old life and happier times. This only highlighted how unhappy I now was.

Last weekend I went to the second gig of my new life.   I wasn’t dancing or singing along like the old me would have done. However, for the couple of hours standing in a city centre park listening to Damien Rice’s amazing vocals I actually felt happy. I was able to experience the music in the present. Only the other day I heard Conor’s Daddy singing in the shower.  I don’t think we’re ready to switch on music radio with its random playlist of memories but we can start to enjoy music of our own chosing. I’m curious to see which songs will form the soundtrack to our new life. Nearly one year into our grief I can feel a change and it feels good. Conor, we hope you’re proud of us.

*Top Tips:

There are some great clips on YouTube to get you started on piping. I buy good quality gel colours. Don’t use the cheap liquid colours from the supermarket. I’m going to treat myself to some extra No 2 nozzles so I can have all the filled piping bags ready to go. Good luck.

This is my wee niece’s birthday cake. She requested a dinosaur cake. My sister baked a Victoria sponge and we decorated it together. It was our first attempt at sugar craft and we spent a very calm couple of hours rolling and molding the sugar paste to create our very friendly looking dinosaur. Conor was even remembered in the star shaped balloon. My niece was one very happy customer showing her cake off to anyone who came to visit.

It’s just over a month away from the anniversary of Conor’s short life and death. I have been told that time heals. However, no bereaved parent has ever uttered these words to me. They tell me the broken heart never fully heals but you get better at living with it. I’ve also been told the first of everything is the hardest. What people do not realise is that I am faced with a lifetime of firsts. I am the mother of what should be a nearly 1 year old little boy cruising the furniture. I grieve not only for the baby I buried but the first smile, first tooth, first steps, first words, first day at school, first love, first exams, first job and a lifetime of family celebrations. I heard when a parent dies you grieve for your past and when a child dies you grieve for your future. When pregnant I planned a very different future. I know that grieving for my son is not going to be a smooth ride. There is a lifetime of milestones and firsts ahead of us.

As we approach Conor’s first anniversary I am reminded of how friends and family have talked about their children’s first birthdays. I’ve been told that they view it as a chance to celebrate surviving their first year as parents. They have spent the year with little sleep, they haven’t known if they are coming or going and they feel changed. I too am going to try to use this milestone to celebrate how Conor’s Daddy and I have survived this year which has changed us more than we ever could have imagined. All I have to do now is plan Conor’s first birthday cake. . .

All bakers both amateur & professional can list their baking disasters. Having become very sensitive to words and their uses I now use the term “dodgy bakes”. This is my most recent dodgy bake.

My attempt at two identical cheese & onion loaves was thwarted with the collapse of one of the cardboard cases. It reminded me of the fairy tale “The Three Little Pigs”. The walls of the cardboard case were not strong enough to hold up my loaf. The fan oven huffed and puffed and blew my loaf down. Both loaves tasted delicious but it was time to buy myself some stong metal tins. Any future loaves need a more stable base. (See the end of this post for the very easy recipe.)
Since Conor died I feel like I am living life wobbling on one leg. Life no longer has a stable base and it doesn’t take much for me to fall or get knocked down. Puffs of wind along with tornadoes can appear out of the blue. Sometimes they are forecast. It’s exhausting getting back up all the time but staying down is a scarier option. Grief has changed me and has taken far more from me than just my child. The old me was far better equiped to handle the stresses and strains of life. In my new life I struggle to make even the most basic decisions. I know that the worst can happen and I worry constantly. Every hospital visit to my sick parent and every wait in a waiting room takes me back to bad news day. My new life is filled with so much uncertainty and anxiety. I am thin skinned and sensitive to what is or is not said. I am easily overwhelmed. I wobble through each day trying to stay upright.

During moments of kindness from others I can find myself stable for a while. It is during these moments I am handed a crutch to steady myself and my new life seems manageable. Conor’s Daddy and I have experienced so much kindness in our new life. My amazing sister has created rituals for keeping Conor’s memory alive with her children and has raised funds in his name. Conor’s grandparents tend the grave, light candles, make weather proof stars and knit blankets for memory boxes. There’s a wonderful friend who regularly drops in with delicious dinners and another who gave up her apartment for my family last summer. We have friends and relatives who hand us a crutch every time they ask us how we are, take the time to listen to our answer and allow us to tell our story.  We’re handed a crutch every time someone acknowledges our son and uses his name. There is kindness in strangers too. I sobbed when our window cleaner asked me if I had the baby. After his initial shock he handed me a crutch when he asked our baby’s name and once again when he returned showing he wasn’t afraid of my tears. There was the woman on my baking course who asked me if I have any children. After being told I had a boy who died she went out of her way to talk to me for the week and she washed up my utensils. There are no words to fix what has happened. No one can take away our pain and there is no metal tin to hold us up. I hope that one day my second leg will touch the ground and I’ll feel more stable. Until then I will wobble on, I will pick myself up, I will keep baking and I will lean on any crutches that come my way.

Thank you all.

*Top tip:

This savoury bread is so easy to make and goes well with a salad or soup. It has a cake like consistency. I first made it while on a brilliant beginners baking course with The Baking Academy (check out http://www.bakingacademyireland.ie for courses). Here’s the recipe:
Plain flour 200g
Strong flour 200g
Salt 5g
Baking Powder 25g
Butter 30g
Grated cheese 160g
Chives/spring onions 30g
Buttermilk 300ml
1 x medium egg

There are very few stages;
1. Mix dry ingredients
2. Mix egg and buttermilk together
3. Mix egg/buttermilk with dry ingredients to make a soft dough.
4. Soft dough can be divided into 2 small loaf tins (1lb tins – use metal ones!) and bake for 35-40 mins at 210.

Enjoy.

In the days and weeks that followed Conor’s death we received so many lovely cards and messages of support. These got me through the hardest days. The sound of the post arriving got me out of bed and functioning. There were masses said for our little family across the world. There were candles lit and flowers sent. The different gestures will always be remembered with gratitude. All the cards are safely stored in Conor’s memory box. One gift that stands out came in the form of an email. Friends of Conor’s Daddy named a star after our little boy. This was such an inspired gift. To me it represented life and light. Mass cards and flowers had become symbols of death. We took this star to our hearts. It was the perfect gift for our little boy whose Mummy used to sing “Twinkle Twinkle” to her ever expanding bump. Usually when someone dies we have something that reminds us of our loved one. I think of my two very different grandfathers when I see flat caps (farmer Grandad) & baseball caps (London East End Grandad). There was a young Irish woman whose funeral made the news recently after a tragic accident. She was buried with fake tan and a designer handbag. I’m sure her friends will think of her as they get ready for nights out. These symbols prompt memories and I smile now when I see caps. When a baby dies what symbols do we have? My belief systems have been challenged beyond all recognition and so I do not think of Conor as an angel. We do not know what toy he would have played with or which superhero he would have liked best. We have adopted a star as Conor’s symbol.  Like a star Conor has an ever lasting presence in our lives. Like a star we cannot hold him or touch him but he continues to shine a light on us.

I am the proud owner of various star shaped items inc a bespoke necklace bought for me by Conor’s Daddy and an ink stamp for remembering Conor in cards. There is a star on his headstone along with a lyric from The Smiths “There is a light that never goes out”. I hope that others will remember our Conor when they see stars. I hope that over time I will start to smile when the clouds part.

My gorgeous 5yr old niece came home from a party recently. She told her Mummy that all the star biscuits were gone and she didn’t get to have one. When asked why she liked star biscuits she replied “they make me think of Baby Conor”.  Biscuit cutters are part of my star collection. You’ll see they’ve been used lots in my quest to find the perfect easy crunchy biscuit recipe. . .          

I am still searching . . .

* Top tip:

Foxes Glacier Fruits worked best in the centre of the Stained Glass Biscuits. I used a BBC recipe http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/stainedglasswindowbi_87505. They were tasty but more of a Christmas biscuit.