There used to be a shelf in the kitchen where I lived,
and on it were the recipe books,
or was it bench space,
i can never be quite sure.
But these books were perfectly aligned.
My Mum used them to make our special Christmas Cake,
as we didn’t like the fruit one,
and cakes for birthdays and lunchboxes-
coconut loaf with margarine in gladwrap.
Then one day the books went into boxes,
the cooking stopped.
I never knew why.
I still made the christmas cake,
at least i tried,
cherries and almonds and “ta-da”.
But it was only Mum and me.
Then mum and me and my step dad and he didn’t like almonds,
so it stopped.
Then I had a family of my own,
people I loved and I made them this cake,
this one good childhood memory,
and they didn’t like the almonds,
or the cherries either,
only I did,
and I don’t eat so..
Then my cook books got packed in a box,
They were thrown away,
by my mum and step dad as rubbish left behind in their house.
they didn’t open the box.
Now they are leaving before christmas this year,
to live forever on the other side of the world.
and the christmases rush through my fingers like sand,
tethered together by bad memories and glace cherries.
So this christmas will be new,
a new cake,
recipe yet to be decided,
but still with almonds and glace cherries on top.
I need something to string my years on,
and cherry stems will work as well as anything else.
Inspired by “Sleep is for the Weak”, delightful Josie and her inspiring writing workshop.