Posted by: Alexandra | September 7, 2010

Transworld Summer Reading Challenge Review #1: Bryant and May on the Loose – Christopher Fowler

It goes against the grain to pick a book from the middle of a series for me. I’ve read all 30-something Discworld books in order, I tackled Fleming’s Bond series chronologically; basically, I like to follow the development of a series from the beginning, logically. But with Bryant & May On the Loose I was plunged some seven books in to a series for which the next book – Bryant & May Off the Rails -  has already been released.

And that was just fine, as it turned out. References to earlier plot lines were swiftly explained without too much exposition for the latecomer, but with enough to feel quickly acquainted with the battery of faintly bizarre characters. The Bryant and May series centres on the eponymous detectives who make up the core of the Peculiar Crimes Unit.

Something of a law unto themselves and perpetually falling foul of the Met because of it, the PCU brings together a motley but talented crew of detectives and forensic types who investigate the kinds of crimes the other departments can’t solve. In this book, there isn’t even supposed to be a PCU; they’ve been officially suspended, pending investigation which seems to be inevitably heading towards formal disbanding. Just as it seems there’s nothing left for the team but to find new jobs (and, in Bryant’s case, shuffle inexporably towards a lonely death from old age and lack of stimulation), a headless corpse turns up which leads them into a race against time to solve a murder, prevent chaos striking a huge development project and possibly even save their careers.

Of Bryant and May it is Bryant, an eccentric, highly intelligent officer with an encyclopaedic knowledge of London and it’s convoluted history, that is the more striking. May is his sensible fall guy, against whom he bounces his ideas and who keeps him on the path of what passes for sanity in Bryant’s world.  The rest of the team is a mixture of sensible, likeable types  – the almost disappointingly realistic ones – and the slightly odd; Jack Renfield, for example, who’s trying to simultaneously shake off a reputation for being widely disliked and the Dracula jokes that follow his name about.

The strongest highlights of Bryant & May On the Loose are the fascinating points of London history and the clever pacing. Although you’re essentially given plenty of the detail that’s usually revealed at the end from the start, the intricately wound plot leaves plenty of room for guessing – and, indeed, second-guessing – and leaves just enough unsaid to keep the reader turning pages eagerly. Fowler is also far too skilled to suffer from the excessive exposition problem that occasionally surfaces in mysteries based on a long-buried secret; he works the historical detail into the plot in digestible chunks.

Although I’m not raving with excitement over the book, I couldn’t point out a specific criticism to level at it; a few things occasionally slightly grated(some uncomfortably unlikely dialogue, the odd overdose of eccentricity), but nothing that would stop me going on to read others in the series, which I now fully intend to do. All in all, it’s an enjoyably quirky, admirably pacy and interesting mystery, which is just fine by me.

Find out more about the Transworld Summer Reading Challenge. Please note that opinions are my own and unbiased; I am not required to give the books a positive review.

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Posted by: Alexandra | August 25, 2010

I’m taking part in the Transworld Dan Brown Summer Reading Challenge

…without actually reading any Dan Brown.

Transworld Publishers have done a nifty piece of blogger outreach by inviting anyone interested in reviewing some of their books to either get involved on their blog or, if they don’t have one (or don’t want to use it for the reviews), writing Amazon reviews. There’s no pressure to write a positive review, they just want word of mouth out there about their books, and you can choose which four you want from a list of 15 and they’ll be sent to you.

It’s all explained rather better on Transworld’s Between the Lines blog, where you can also leave them a comment to get involved if you’d like to.

The four books I’ve chosen are listed below, so I’m looking forward to receiving the first (once it’s read and reviewed, I get the next one). Since reading is the most relaxing thing to do apart from sleep between Ramona’s feeds and I mentally review every book I read anyway, this is perfect for me.

Bryant & May on the Loose by Christopher Fowler (review now published)

Amberville by Tim Davys

E Squared by Matt Beaumont

Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld

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Posted by: Alexandra | August 19, 2010

The one in which I announce I’ve had the baby…

So, if you are a friend in real life or follow me on Twitter, you’ll know that I gave birth to our first child, a daughter, almost two weeks ago. She arrived on her due date (probably just to show me up since I went on at length about how they’re all guesswork, etc etc), in a straightforward, natural home birth. It’s slightly amazing to stare at the living room floor of my mother’s house and go “you were born right there, lady”.

Her name is Ramona (with two middle names after her grandmothers’ mothers), with inspiration from the Beverly Cleary books. Not the Bachelors’ song. Which we didn’t know. And is a bit awful. I would consider it a Very Good Thing if Ramona turned out to be half so imaginative and clever as her Quimby namesake.

I’m very proud to say that the first thing she’s developed a fixation with (other than eating) is a book. Admittedly, it’s a book with a mirror in it, but she does really like the solid pages too, especially the picture of the baby. So here’s Ramona, enjoying her first book.

Normal service will be resumed… soonish.

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Posted by: Alexandra | August 3, 2010

Advertising as information: not always useful (Cow & Gate Growing Up Milk)

Last night I was having a conversation with a family friend about the difference between US and UK advertising. We agreed that there are pros and cons of both, but one thing I always found alarming in the States was advertising for prescription pharmaceuticals.

“Why not?” argued J. “Part of advertising’s focus is to inform.”

“Because it’s unethical.” I countered. “Doctors shouldn’t be motivated by financial gain, nor badgered for drugs by patients who might well have only half-understood the implications of taking the advertised product. Not all of them will have researched it further.”

“But why shouldn’t they know about what’s available?”

Why not indeed? I still think there are huge question marks over bitesize chunks of information about products that can have serious side effects (or, you know, kill you), but I don’t deny that there’s important consumer power in receiving chunks of information about what’s available. Obviously.

However, there’s a line between information and scaremongering. Between becoming aware that a potentially useful product is out there and being convinced that you need something you don’t. The beauty industry has long made a fortune by inventing a problem and then telling you how to fix it. But I find that harmless compared to the absolute claptrap that’s fed to parents.

My personal pet hate at the moment is Cow & Gate Growing Up Milk. You can view the ad here.

Now, let’s get this straight – I don’t care if you breast or bottle feed. And I think there’s probably an argument for topping up some toddlers’ diets with formula; perhaps if they’re particularly fussy or for some reason have problems getting all the nutrients they need. But these ads make me want to spit with rage. Let’s look at what’s bugging me:

1. The comparison with cows’ milk

Aside from almost pretending that formula isn’t cows’ milk (albeit, obviously, fortified), this specifically focuses on iron content. Look! Two beakers of our product can give your child 100% of the iron they need, but 12 LITRES of cows’ milk would only just give them 50%. Now look at the bottom of the screen, where it says, presumably for legal reasons: “Cows’ milk is not a good source of iron”.

So, what you’re saying is, if you only fed your toddler on cows’ milk, they’d have nutrient deficiencies. Is this a good time to say ‘duh’? Toddlers, unlike very small babies, don’t live exclusively on milk. They’ll have been eating solids for several months. Perhaps they’re getting their iron from green leafy veg, grains and other (non-milk) animal products?

2. Check your toddler’s iron intake (here)

Do we really have a national toddler iron deficiency problem? That’s a genuine question, because I’ve never heard any suggestion of such a thing but that doesn’t mean there isn’t some evidence out there. I’d love to see it. This is perhaps the most useful part of the ad, helping a concerned parent reassure themselves that they’re feeding their child properly, but isn’t it amazing how we weren’t (apparently) beset with anaemic toddlers before follow on milk was invented? Talk about creating a problem to fix it.

A sensible concerned parent will, I hope, conclude that rather than topping up their toddler with an expensive powdered milk, they could just introduce more variety to their diet. But of course C&G is counting on the idea that adding the fortified milk will just be easier.

3. “Healthy babies are happy babies”

Subtext: you are making your child ill by not buying this probably totally unnecessary product. And that’s why they don’t sleep perfectly / have tantrums / aren’t completely perfect angel children. Not because they’re toddlers and that’s part of growing up, learning and development. Oh no.

I have no problem with Cow & Gate creating these products, nor wanting to make money from them, you understand. I’m a great believer in consumer choice – switch off if you don’t like the programme, don’t buy if you don’t like the product – but it really does make me grind my teeth when the advertising is woven with the threads of health scares, parental guilt and solving problems that are likely nonexistent.

Parents have, over the years, been convinced that they NEED to do all sorts of things for their children, otherwise they are appalling, abusive failures. Despite, in many cases, having grown up to be reasonable, decent adults without half the things they think of as necessities now. Using that guilt to harness their tremendous spending power is clever advertising, no doubt about it.

But it still makes me feel slightly sick.

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Posted by: Alexandra | July 29, 2010

Child-free, parent or pregnant: you never escape the baby mafia no matter what

There’s an interesting and quite balanced article on the BBC today about people – well, women – who opt not to have children. Said women are feeling victimised by friends, family, colleagues and even complete strangers who feel it’s completely legitimate to question them endless on why they don’t want children, lecture them on being ‘incomplete’ or eye them with pity, assuming they’re unable to have children (because of course, if that were the case, your pity is exactly what they’d want, right?).

The thing is, the child-free may think they’re being pitted against parents, but it isn’t so. As someone who is maybe a week or two away from giving birth, I can tell you child-free folks that we’re on the same side. The real enemy is the same kind of sexist bull that means women always get judged by their appearance.

For some reason, female fertility is a complete free-for-all. I’ve been asked the most incredibly invasive questions about my pregnancy, including “was it planned?”, and even had one friend of my husband’s go so far as to write to him (not me) telling him not to “let his wife” choose a particular option for where to give birth. The friend was female, by the way; sexism isn’t the exclusive preserve of men, you know. Now, to some extent I expect it, as I have written about and talked about my pregnancy; you could say I’ve invited some comment, although much of it came from people I hadn’t really shared much with. But plenty of women don’t say a word, and are just marked out as a target by their bulging bellies.

Now, those people who ask the inappropriate questions, assume a paternalistic stance about your medical care and think they can come up and fondle your belly without asking are the exact same people who ask you when you’re having your first / “next one”, question you about how you know you don’t want a baby if you don’t have one (it’s not ice cream – you can’t bin it if you change your mind) and insist that you’ll only feel like a ‘real’ woman when you have one of your own.

This isn’t about the child-free versus the child-added. This is about social skills, common decency and the status of women as the bearers of children. No healthy adult gets treated with more condescension than a pregnant woman; yes, we’re emotional and vulnerable, but that doesn’t mean we’re suddenly irrational and incapable. The same people who feel free to use that vulnerability to bully a pregnant woman are those that feel that any woman without a child can’t be so out of choice, so they can’t resist poking at the perceived soft spot.

And it is women who get the brunt of this. Men don’t get off scot-free; they simply get ignored, patronised or occasionally used as a conduit to criticise the woman. How marvellous that you’ve worked out the incredible complexity of a nappy! How extra-specially lovely and thoughtful of you to look after the baby for a couple of hours so your partner can get some sleep! You’re not completely useless! But I can’t help feeling that while this is hugely annoying, it’s nothing compared to what their female partners have to deal with.

But you know what? As long as we all – parents and those with no interest in ever being parents – stick together and politely, with all the social graces our interrogators seem to lack, tell people when something is their business and when it isn’t, eventually these people will have to back off and go voice their opinions to their invisible friends.

The sooner the better.

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Posted by: Alexandra | July 27, 2010

‘Fat’ is a journalist issue…

Thanks to a bit of shoddy journalism and a lot of intelligent friends, I’ve been having a very interesting discussion about body shape, ideals and weight with some fantastic women on Twitter (you should follow them all: @foreveramber, @evarley, @Keris, @dianeshipley, @GemmaCartwright). Although the subject started with UK Equalities Minister Lynne Featherstone apparently – but not, on closer examination, actually – endorsing the lovely Christina Hendricks as an ‘ideal’ role model for women, it’s taken a bit of a tangential line for me.

I’ll let you catch up with it all if you’ve not been following by pointing you to Amber’s summary of the issue on  The Fashion Police. I’ll wait here.

Okay, now, all reasonable people will now be agreed that:

  • There is no ideal shape / weight / size. You can only eat well and do adequate / ample exercise.
  • A mixture of physical role models is lovely an’ all, but role models based on achievement, rather than appearance, would be even better.

If you’re not reasonable, then good luck to you. I might publish your comments anyway.

Now for the tangential bit. Ms Featherstone went on to clarify that she did not mean what the Daily Mail said she meant, which I have no trouble believing. But she also used the term ‘stick insect’ to describe thin women, which is a bit off, from where I’m sitting. I’m happy to use the word ‘skinny’ – my husband is skinny, and looks great, thanks very much – because in my head it’s a description, not an insult. But there’s no way to read ‘stick insect’ kindly.

Yet, for the bigger woman, Featherstone used the accepted euphemism of the day: ‘curvy’. I understand that the word ‘fat’ is upsetting to many because it’s been used as an insult for so long that people have forgotten that it’s just a fact. Of course, not every person wearing a size 14 plus IS fat. Some of them are genuinely just big. Or muscular. Or so tall they wear a bigger size but are still perfectly toned. But, equally, not everyone wearing a size 14 plus is curvy. Some are straight up and down. Or, like me, they’re just a bit overweight.

Actually I’m curvy AND fat, and a UK size 14 (US10-ish). I have weight to lose, and muscles to tone. As soon as I’ve recovered from the imminent birth of my first child, I plan to start building up to doing more regular exercise cos I’m unfit and that makes me tired and fed up and there’s heart disease in my family. But when I use the word ‘fat’, people wince and look uncomfortable. They think I’m fishing for compliments, or being unnecessarily self-hating.

So, in many ways, bloggers and journalists are caught between a rock and a hard place. They feel they can be blithely rude about thin women, but even if they’re sensitive enough not to be insulting are safe using ‘thin’ or ‘slim’ or ‘slender’ because these are factual. But ‘fat’ is equally factual – in some cases – and yet it’s completely unthinkable to use it. I hesitate to use it about anyone but myself because I know how hurtful it can be; it’s taken me years to accept it because I know with what vitriol it’s usually delivered.

My compromise is to stick to ‘bigger’ as it’s still factual yet not as mealy-mouthed as ‘curvy’ ‘plus size’ / ‘out size’ (out of WHOSE size?) or ‘voluptuous’ (‘voluptuous’ is to ‘fat’ what ‘flamboyant’ used to be to ‘gay’), although there are probably times when both curvy and voluptuous are appropriate as well – just not as a description of SIZE. They could apply to very small women too. No one could realistically call Salma Hayek fat, but my Lord is she curvy.

We’ve been working so hard to reclaim one F-word (feminism, in case you were wondering), that we’ve lost another one. It’s no longer safe to describe someone as fat, even when they are. Yet it’s okay to demonise thin women and liken them to pretty unpleasant things – I kept stick insects as a child and I can assure you there’s nothing alluring about their appearance. They’re also very boring.

So what is a writer who cares about women feeling happy, confident and healthy and wants to write about these issues to do? Fly the fat banner with pride, or prevaricate around the point? I genuinely don’t know the answer.

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Posted by: Alexandra | July 15, 2010

Thoughts on Stieg Larsson’s Millennium trilogy

This isn’t a review. Lots has been written about these books already. But there’s one element that persistently bugs me about the trilogy, and it’s to do with the treatment of women. If you haven’t read the books, you might want to skip this unless you’re not planning to. I haven’t gone all-out with the spoilers, but you will probably prefer to start with a blank slate.

Larsson doesn’t hide the fact that The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is about sexual and physical abuse of women. The stats quoted at the beginning of each section, the horrific scene of brutal sexual violence against one character, the twisted tale of sadistic murder; it’s pretty clear (and sometimes, I think, a little more graphic than it really needs to make the point). But then the trilogy starts to be about the abuse of a specific character, and her history and that’s where I think the point loses its way.

It comes to the point where every single unpleasant character – and they’re ALL men, the bad guys; the women are all either laughably perfect or appallingly damaged – is a violent misogynist. It’s not enough for them to be a bit of a turd; no, if you’re a man and a bad guy, you must also want to rape women, sexually abuse small children or think every woman who isn’t interested in you is a twisted lesbian Satanist (seriously, read it, you’ll see). Oh, or you’re a pimp.

The main male character, however, Mikael Blomkvist, is none of these things. No, he’s the perfect embodiment of journalistic integrity, and he’s disgusted by the pimps and abusers, murderers and rapists. As well anyone decent might be. But at the same time, he treats the women he actually cares about pretty shabbily, bouncing from bed to bed and refusing to renounce his lover for the sake of his marriage or subsequent relationships. He trundles from one sexual encounter to the other, assuming that no-one could possibly be any more emotionally invested than he is. This is not to say that women can’t be dispassionate about casual encounters at all; it’s just that Blomkvist never troubles himself to find out either way.

So on the one hand we have a bunch of cartoon bad guys who all want to destroy womankind, and yet womankind’s defender is at best a rather self-obsessed bedhopper. Oh yay; just what we need to save us. Of course, even the most independent and powerful of all the female characters – the dragon-tattooed girl herself, Lisbeth Salander – can’t free herself without his help. And even his lover, the irrepressible Erika Berger, is stalked by a man (of course) whose favourite epithet for her is ‘whore’.

I’m really not sure where Larsson was going with all this. They’re well-written and gripping books – the murder mystery, the family saga and the post-Cold War spy thriller – but this relentless casting of women as victims is frustrating.

That, and the fact that no-one seems to be able to do a damn thing without hourly infusions of coffee and sandwiches.

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Posted by: Alexandra | July 8, 2010

Maternity leave has turned me into a zombie…

No, really. Well, okay, it might be the pregnancy and the bizarrely persistent unusually hot British Summer (note to God: this is not a complaint. Keep it comin’…).

There are so many things I want to be doing, but my head can’t seem to get it together. I want to write some posts for BitchBuzz because it is an awesome site that Cate Sevilla has worked her arse off to make a success. I want to get back to writing the damn novel I’m 20,000 words into, but somehow when I try it all comes out sounding wrong and then I get dispirited. I know that is exactly the point at which I should continue to write, not give up, but I’m scared I’ll end up so irritated that I’ll scrap the whole lot. Although I think my husband might go mad if I did that; he actually enjoyed reading it. I want to plough on and finish before I go back and edit because otherwise edit is all I’ll do, but I can’t take my mind off a continuity slip I know is festering in one of the earlier chapters.

I want to review the mighty Keris Stainton’s excellent book, Della Says: OMG! but the words are Just. Not. Coming.

On the flipside, I have filled up the freezer with meals and baking to be enjoyed after Octobaby makes her appearance, and I have got almost everything ready for her room, etc. I have an appointment with the consultant next week to ensure I’m still low risk and can keep planning for the birth I’d prefer (on the understanding that ultimately it’s Octobaby that decides). I do need to step up the hypnobirthing practice a bit but I haven’t let it slide completely either. Octobaby is currently forcing us all into a guessing game by refusing to reveal to the midwife which end is up (or down) – perhaps she’s re-enacting the tale of the Grand Old Duke of York – which is making me slightly nervous. Yes, I’d rather have a planned Caesarean than an unplanned breech birth, but I will be a little bit gutted if it comes to that, because surgery was the one thing I wanted to avoid, and I have had back surgery that makes me worry about the effects of an epidural.

I now feel huge but am apparently still not carrying that prominently considering that on Saturday I’ll be a full eight months gone. But then, it’s a novelty having clothing clinging to my stomach and not feeling self-conscious about it!

Mr. G. is taking a couple of days off – tomorrow and Monday – to help get the final bits and bobs ready to welcome our little wriggler into the world, so I’m hopeful this will fill me with renewed purpose, so that I’m not wandering around the house reading baking books and wittering to the cats. Because I have my retirement for that. (Joke! I have very active parents and in-laws; I am not being ageist. Promise.)

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Posted in Baking Therapy, Parenthood, Random Babble, Reading & Writing

Posted by: Alexandra | July 6, 2010

Octobaby and the Courgette and Camomile Cupcakes of DOOM

Actually, there’s nothing particularly doom-ridden about them at all. They were a fraction dry, because I had to make a last minute substitution of brown rice flour for white (storecupboard fail) and didn’t trust my instincts to add some milk, but there you go.

It was the first time I’ve made anything using the powder from the insides of teabags before. The recipe, which I made in order to have some readily available homemade cake in the freezer once Octobaby is here, came from a late birthday present, Harry Eastwood’s Red Velvet and Chocolate Heartache. All the cakes in this book are made without butter / oil / margarine, and using a base of a finely grated vegetable, such as carrot, courgette, potato, sweet potato, swede or even beetroot.

This unnerves some people; even those who have happily snaffled down carrot cake without a thought. But vegetables are a great source of moisture and natural sugars. So not only are the cakes (added) fat-free, they’re generally lower in sugar as well. And though you can use plain flour in the same amounts, Eastwood prefers white rice flour as you might as well make the cake gluten-free as well while you’re at it.

Anyway, I forgot to take photos and they’re packaged up and frozen now, but dry edge notwithstanding, they’re very tasty, and will undoubtedly be better once iced. The camomile tea ingredient makes them taste strongly of cinnamon and nutmeg, neither of which are actually in the recipe; the courgette base makes for quite a plain and (if made correctly) moist sponge, so all in all it’s a simple, spice-edged, satisfying cake.

As for Octobaby (so-called since I’m convinced she has several tentacles given all the directions she can squirm at once), she is growing well and her heart is thrumming away like a baby bird’s. The only slight fly in the ointment is that even the midwife can’t work out which way up she is at the moment. She has two weeks to turn decidedly head down before the worry starts. I might email the hypnobirthing practitioner for a good visualisation to help encourage her. I certainly need to do more exercise, too – walk, trying not to waddle, more, sit on on the birthing ball at home, etc (she says from the sofa).

So, yes. I live. I bake. I get impatient to meet my daughter. How have you been?

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Posted in Baking Therapy, Parenthood

Posted by: Alexandra | June 21, 2010

Red velvet cupcakes with white chocolate star mold topping

I don’t have as many funky baking gadgets and gizmos are you might expect, mostly for the following three reasons:

  • I’m not rich enough
  • I don’t have enough time to get really good
  • I don’t have enough natural / scary / innate talent to miss out the practice

But from time to time I feel I need to give in and get something a bit pointless that I won’t use very much but that will let me get creative in the baking department. Especially if it’s not too expensive. This lead to me splashing out a whopping £6 on Miniamo star-shaped mini molds, that can be used for baking or setting a liquid in the fridge. It was a spur of the moment decision made in a baking shop; you can undoubtedly find them cheaper online.

My first thought was to make mini star shaped cakes in a contrasting colour-  perhaps vanilla-based cupcakes with red velvet star shaped cakes on top. Then I thought about how to embed a star shape in the top of a cake, and the experimentation began…

I switched from Rachel Allen’s red velvet recipe to Hummingbird Bakery‘s, mainly because the latter had already been adapted (cooking time and temperature) for cupcakes. I’m glad I did; lovely as Rachel’s is, the Hummingbird cupcakes were undeniably fluffier and, as the recipe calls for more colour, a richer and more tempting red.

The experiment was, taste-wise, a success. However it wasn’t perfect, and I’ll explain what I’d do differently next time as I go through…

Unbaked cakes with molds

Once I’d made the mixture, I pushed in the molds delicately in the centre. I had thought that delicacy was wise, since I didn’t want the mold to a) sink to the bottom or b) get so deeply stuck in it ripped the cake apart when I removed it. However, I was a fraction too hesitant, as you’ll see from the next picture… Next time, I would push the mold in a little further and possibly weight it with a couple of baking beans or similar.

Cakes with tipsy molds

The more hesitantly applied molds – and possibly less evenly poured in batter – resulted in some cakes with rather random angles at the top, and also one or two whose indentation was too shallow. Contrary to this dreadful photo, however, some did come out rather well, as you’ll see below!

Unfinished cake awaiting chocolate

This was one of the best ones. Please note that you have to wait until the cakes are at least 90% cool before removing the molds. If you don’t, it will just get really shredded around the edges. I suspected this, so I tested on which became the ‘sample’ cake (don’t pretend you’ve never done that). And it was genuinely in the spirit of experimentation rather than impatience, for once! The good news is, between baking and cooling you’ve got masses of time to melt some white chocolate and half-fill some molds with it. I bought 24 so I could bake 12 and prepare 12 toppings at the same time, but you could wait, wash the molds and start from there.

Oh, and a tip about cooling chocolate; it will get far less gloopy if you cool it at room temperature before finishing off in the fridge.

Chocolate molds

Then, when set, pop them out and, handling as little as possible, press them into the indentation left in the cake!

Red velvet cupcakes with white chocolate stars

Again, I would have liked the chocolate to be a little deeper into the cake – possibly even flush with the top for a quite dramatic look – but given the cocoa base for red velvet cake the two went together very nicely and the stars added an element of creaminess without the sickly edge that a huge hunk of buttercream or cream cheese icing can give (and it says something when white chocolate is less sickly than pretty much anything else. I guess it’s the amount!).

Maybe I’ll find time during maternity leave to do more baking. Then again, a first time mother with a newborn? Maybe not.

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