
Aunt Margaret, Mum and Snibby
A good day. I wrote my tribute to Mother last night. I thought it would make me feel better to have it written, but I kept waking in the night worrying about it. Was it a proper tribute? Did it convey what she was like? What had I forgotten that should have been included?
The anxwer to that last question hit me at four in the morning; baking. Mother never rated herself as a cook (I’d disagree), but she was a great baker of cakes, biscuits and puddings. Her fruit cake was famous in several countries. It was something she would give me when I was going away from home, so travelled to France, was sampled in southern Italy and in the US. I am not a great fan of fruit cake, but Mother’s was the exception. Always baked in a tin with a hole in the centre so it was easy to slice. I don’t know when she baked her last one. I have been trying to remember when she stopped baking, but I have failed.
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