Our 'Grandma Ella' date
An imperfect kind of romance
It was the perfect afternoon for a Grandma Ella date.
Although I never met Ella, my great-grandmother, I’ve heard all sorts about her. I know that she was exceptionally house proud, gave the warmest hugs and put her apron on at the start of every day. I carry her name, with Ella being my middle name, which is a responsibility I take very seriously.
My mother recently told me about how her grandparents enjoyed spending time together. A favourite activity involved going for a drive on a weekend afternoon. Then parking up and enjoying a view with thermos of tea and homemade cake. This appealed to me instantly.
I’m not really one for typical ‘romance’. This may be surprising considering that I was borderline obsessed with chick flicks and romance novels as a teenager. I got completely immersed in these wild love stories and imagined that I would have a partner one day that would shower me with grand loving gestures.
My naivety ebbed away over the years. I realised that this romance was all well and good, but it’s not what I really need in a healthy relationship.
My partner and I show our love in our own unique way. Small acts of service mean so much more. I may not get flowers every week, but he will be willing to crawl under my car to fix my exhaust on a bitingly cold January day so I could go filming. Sure, there was swearing and moaning, but I know he would do this again and again to make me happy. We always have each other’s back.
Saying this, it can be easy to let time be taken over with all our responsibilities and not prioritise spending quality time together. Even though we co-habit a tiny home, so see a lot of each other, its important to sprinkle in some romance now and again.
Last Saturday, we decided to do just that.
I wanted to do this right, so was intent on making a cake myself, just like Grandma. This was the first spanner in the works. I had managed the impossible and accrued three perfectly sized ripe bananas for the ultimate moist banana bread.
Alas, on waking on Saturday morning, I immediately clocked that one was missing. Terry had been peckish in the night and decided this was the perfect snack. Despite the other 12 perfectly acceptable bananas available and that I had voiced that these 3 needed to be left. I was more than a bit put out. Growing up with 3 brothers, where I was used to hiding all my food, I should have known better.
However, I rallied and managed to cobble together what appeared to be an acceptable cake. I wrapped this up on some vegan wax wraps and a tote bag and packed it in my favourite woven basket. Nestled alongside our two thermoses, one for tea and one for coffee, and Skye’s lead as of course we couldn’t leave her.
It was a typical grey February afternoon in Scotland. Wrapped up in our layers, basket stashed in my wee car, we made our way to a favoured loch spot near Aviemore.
After some trouble with me attempting to reverse park, so we could properly enjoy the view, we got ourselves settled. Despite my warning to Terry to let the drinks cool first, I still managed to take the top layer off my tongue, in my over enthusiastic tea consumption.
It wasn’t long before we realised our mistake. We should have taken Skye out first. She was clearly baffled when, rather than donning our rucksacks, we were unwrapping cake. The frustrated whines came every 42 seconds or so.
We tried our best to satiate her with treats, with limited success. Nevertheless, I was more than keen to get stuck into the cake, now the car was filled with that warm banana smell. We roughly hacked away generous slices, whilst I tried my best to ignore the crumbs that were spilling over the dashboard, and everywhere else.
I’m a bit of a lazy baker. I feel like you can get away with this when cooking, but baking is a different story. This became apparent after a few bites into our slices, as our tongues fizzed with the distinct taste of baking powder. Yes, we agreed that sieving, or even just acceptable amounts of stirring, would have been advisable. We enjoyed our cake just the same.
It was an ‘us’ kind of date. Nether of us are comfortable spending money on fancy dinners. Living in the countryside means that we don’t have easy access to urban date options.  We are both at our most comfortable spending some quiet time in nature.
It had those everyday flaws of real life. Perfectly imperfect. I think it would have made Grandma Ella proud.
Weekly favourites
What I’m reading
A wonderfully mindful approach to writing that I’m very much enjoying!
What I’m listening to
‘Tree meditation’ Aura app - https://www.aurahealth.io/hhlaff
I adore Aura’s hugely varied and beginner friendly meditation classes. Follow the link above to get 25% off and a 7 day free trial
What I’m learning
‘Storytelling 101 - Character, Conflict, Context & Craft’
A really inspiring writing SkillShare class.
What I’m cooking
I love the simplicity of a traybake and you can’t go wrong with a tofu and kale combo!
We did a similar thing on Valentine's Day, although not because it was that day, just my husband had the day off work. We drove our campervan to a lovely river nearby. It was early, frost on the ground and the sun trying to warm the day up. We walked the dog by the river then returned to cook breakfast in the van. Then my husband blew up the paddleboard and went out on the river whilst I stayed with the dog. We had coffee and cake when he got back, then left the car park as it started to fill up. Perfect morning and it was still only 11.30! A morning I will remember.
How lovely, this is what I like to do too, not always as a romantic gesture but even on my own. There's nothing nicer, especially in the crispness of winter.