If there’s one thing I know how to make, it’s a crumble. Bit of fruit, sugar, butter – what can go wrong? It’s also very hard to burn. Not like rice, which I have learnt the hard way does not like being forgotten about.

This is my recipe for apple and cinnamon crumble – a festive twist on an old favourite that’s a perfect Sunday lunch pudding. As you may pick up on when you read the ingredients list, this is my second post as part of the Whitworths baking challenge. (In all seriousness, I’ve been very impressed with the range of Whitworths sugars, especially the new resealable bags – genius.)

What you need:

About 1kg of cooking apples (or however many fit nicely in your dish), peeled and cut into chunks
25g of Whitworths light brown soft sugar
1tsp ground cinnamon

Then for the topping:
100g butter, cubed
100g Whitworths demerara sugar
175g plain flour
25g oats
Another spoonful of cinnamon

What you do:

Crumble is dead easy. First off, preheat the oven to about 180 degrees. Next, peel and cut up your fruit, put it in a suitable dish and sprinkle with the sugar and cinnamon. Give it a bit of a mix to spread everything about evenly.

"cooking apples"

Rub the butter into the flour until it looks like fine breadcrumbs. Mix in the sugar, oats and cinnamon. Spread this evenly over your fruit. That’s it! Easy peasy.

"Apple and cinnamon crumble"

Pop it in the oven for about 30-40 minutes until the topping has turned a little golden or until you just can’t wait any longer and just have to get it out and eat it. Be careful though, the fruit will be hot.

After you’ve eaten a couple of bowls of crumble, have a little lie down on the sofa and complain for a while about how full you are. Feel slightly guilty, but mainly just pleased with yourself.

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As I write this I am sucking an Olbas lozenge.

It’s a lovely image isn’t it?

I was given them at an event I attended recently, hosted by Olbas, about coughs, colds and how to make sure your baby sleeps well, even with the snuffles. As it turned out, I had a cold on the day, so thank goodness there was plenty of decongestants on hand.

Try as we might though, we just can’t figure out a cure for the common cold. Over the years, people have come up with all sorts of remedies, from shoving bits of orange peel up your nose to the mysterious carbolic smoke ball.

The carbolic smoke ball was very popular in the late 1800s as a cure for everything from coughs and colds to asthma and bronchitis, and it even came with a no win no fee style promise – if you could prove that it didn’t work or made you ill, there was a guaranteed payout of £100. £100 was a lot of money in 1892.

Nowadays though, nobody even pretends that they can do anything to cure a cold or flu, you just have to tough it out. (With the help of your Olbas lozenges obviously). If your children are struggling with coughs and cold this winter though, here is sleep expert and paediatric nurse Kathleen McGrath with a few top tips:

If you or a member of your family is suffering from non-snot related sleep problems, try the Sleep Matters Helpline. The helpline, run by the Medical Advisory Service, puts callers straight through to trained nurses who will talk through problems and, if necessary, refer to the right source for further help and advice.

Tel:   020 8994 9874 (6pm-8pm daily)

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When I was little, one of my favourite things to do was to make domestic appliances out of cardboard boxes.* Washing machines were a particular favourite. I would cut the flaps off the box, turn it upside down, cut out a door and draw buttons and dials on the front. Then I would arrange it nicely in my bedroom, pop Teddy’s clothes in through the door, and Bob’s your uncle, hours of fun.

When Bee was born and I was quite poor, I even had a bedside cabinet made out of a cardboard box turned on its side and filled with books.

Fortunately nowadays I don’t rely on cardboard boxes for any of my furniture, apart from the box bed in the corner of the kitchen that I make Boyfriend sleep in, but Belle has definitely inherited my love of turning cardboard boxes into things.

This week she has been working on an entry for a new monthly competition from Cartoon Stripz. The competition involves taking a creative photo or video of her Cartoon Stripz characters, and as much as I’d like to think Belle was drawn to the competition because she was fed up of watching CBBC and wanted a more wholesome activity, I suspect it was more to do with the prizes.

Have a look at what your kids could win and you’ll see what I mean:

  • November Prize: an amazing Apple iPod Nano
  • December Prize: a super-cool Sony Digital Camera
  • January Prize: a monsterrific Moshi Monsters 7-inch Capacitive Touch LCD Tablet
  • February Prize: a huge voucher to spend at Toys ‘R’ Us, worth £75
  • March Prize: a brilliant Nintendo 3DS Console

See?

Now, fortunately for Belle, I have been getting into the Christmas spirit lately by ordering masses of books from the Book People, so the house is awash with cardboard. Belle has turned one of said boxes into a two-storey home for her Cartoon Stripz, complete (obviously) with a giant penguin. The characters are perhaps a little out of proportion, but I think all in all it gives a desirable, high-ceilinged town house effect:

"Cartoon stripz"

Belle has now sent off her entry, and has her fingers crossed for an iPod Nano. If you’ve got young children, perhaps they might fancy entering themselves? Full details can be found on the Cartoon Stripz website, but don’t tell Belle I told you, I’m not sure she can handle the competition…

*I am very old. We didn’t have computers or anything in those days.

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It’s crunch time.

The whole queue of men at the burrito van is watching expectantly as the first in line places their order.

“What can I get you?” says burrito lady.

“Chilli beef please,” says man number one.

“Jalapenos?”

“Yes please,” the tension rises. The men further back in the queue look anxious.

“Any barbecue or chilli sauce on that?”

“Chilli please.”

Bam. There it is.

Lunch for every man in the queue has just been cranked up a notch. Not a single one of them can order anything now other than chilli beef with extra jalapenos and chilli sauce.

It sounds ridiculous, but it is just one of the many benefits of being a woman. Back at the office, as we sit around the table, I watch the boys sweating through their lunches, and feel quietly smug at actually enjoying my burrito with marinated chicken, no peppers and no chilli sauce.

I have nothing to prove. Who cares if the seven people ahead of me have ordered burritos with the works? I can sweetly ask for no jalapenos please and it doesn’t matter, because I am a girl.

So what’s the down side? As the token woman am I left to clear the table? Nope. And someone else even gets my plate for me.

Result.

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When trainee journalist Rhiannon Davies asked if she could write a guest post for my blog I was very flattered, and excited too. When I read her piece on the joys of noisy sex though, I must admit I felt a teensy bit inadequate. Since moving to a smaller house, with children’s bedrooms either side of me, loud sex is rather tricky.

To comfort myself that my sex life is fine even if the neighbours aren’t banging on the wall, I asked mum of three Ella Tabb, aka Purple Mum, to give a different side of the story, and the explain why in her opinion, quiet sex can be just as good.

Which side of the fence (or should that be bed?) do you sit on? We’d love to know what you think – is noisy sex always better sex?

Rhiannon says…

We’ve all been there, whether it’s a new housemate at University with a tendency to, ehem, ‘voice their opinion’ in the bedroom, a noisy neighbour, or a new house where suddenly your kids are on either side of your boudoir. Culprit or victim, loud sex is a sound familiar to all of our ears.

"shouting"

For me, there’s no question that loud sex is better sex (have you never heard the phrase ‘scream if you wanna go faster’?). In my opinion, if you’re relaxed enough to belt out your pleasure, then everything is going to feel better. But then, I’ve never faked an orgasm, and having been the one desperately tearing my room apart to find my head-phones and drown out the noise, I can certainly see why the debate against noise equalling pleasure is there.

To prove to those of you who don’t believe in loud sex, I’m going to get out the big guns and rebuff you with science. Screaming-sex requires a lot of oxygen going in and out of your lungs, thus, oxygenated blood is spread everywhere, making things a lot more sensitive (girls, you have twice as many nerve endings as men, I am talking to YOU). Gym bunnies – why do you exhale when you lift weights? Because it lets your muscles r e l a x, the point of orgasm is a contraction of muscles, moaning releases the tension. Basic biology.

On an emotional level (and provided that you aren’t faking), loud sex lets your partner know that you’re enjoying yourself. How are you supposed to tell them what you like if you say nada? I’m a firm believer in being able to laugh during sex, and although I’m not suggesting you wake your neighbours up with well-placed humour, noise in the bedroom can be a great a bonding opportunity, stop wasting it.

I’m not saying go at it like a porn-star, but when it feels good, what’s wrong with saying so? Let’s face it, they’re going to hear the sound of the headboard banging against the wall anyway, so why not complete the symphony. If you don’t mind the idea of being loud, but hate the idea of being overheard, wait until they are out. If you can’t wait, well, it’s obviously too good not to share.

Ella says…

Science has proven that noisy sex results in better orgasms. I’m not entirely sure that in my case I agree. Ok first up I am not judging you if noisy sex is your thing. In fact I have to admit I’m a teeny bit in awe of you, but I don’t think I will screaming in the throes any time soon and here’s why.

"Lego man"Firstly I have children, three children in fact, and noisy sex could result in waking the children, this would not lead to a better orgasm! Basically when you’re a parent sexy time does change somewhat. Going from doing it whenever and wherever you fancy to grabbing a stolen moment when the children are asleep, on the rare occasion that you are not completely knackered from the sheer relentlessness of parenting. The location goes from finding somewhere new and fun to bonk to finding somewhere not covered in lego (ouch) and not too close to the children’s bedroom. Anyway I digress.

The other reason I am a quiet lover is that it basically doesn’t occur to me to make any noise. I am just naturally quiet in bed, which is odd considering that on any other occasion you literally cannot shut me up. I have tried to make more noise, thinking a little heavy breathed screaming might help my partner feel appreciated, bedroom applause so to speak. However doing so made me feel a bit silly, and took me away from the moment and into my head which is not very sexy at all. Virtually impossible to orgasm whilst thinking I really must make it sound like I am enjoying myself.

So there you have it, if noisy works for you then that’s great, and apparently your orgasms will be better than mine. I have to say though I am perfectly happy being quiet in bed.

Massive thank yous to both Ella and Rhiannon for such honest and entertaining posts.

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Some books you’ll never read? Tasteful bath salts?

Or maybe you’ll get something awesome because you’ve bought it yourself.

A survey by Barclaycard revealed last week that on average we spend a whopping £280 on gifts for ourselves every year. I’m not talking ‘treats’ either, I mean actual presents for ourselves for birthdays and Christmas because we don’t trust other people to buy us something that isn’t awful.

What’s not clear from the survey is if we actually get this money back – are we choosing our pressies and being reimbursed discretely at a later date, or are we simply buying our own presents, full stop?

With me, it’s often the latter.

Being a single parent at Christmas and on birthdays can be a little depressing. You fork out loads of money on the kids, and what do you get in return? Lousy hand-made gifts and cards.* There’s no one in the house apart from you with an actual job, so you get the rather short end of the stick.

A couple of years ago I decided to take matters into my own hands. I was fed up with being the only one of the three of us in bed on Christmas morning not opening a stocking full of gifts. Father Christmas had very kindly left bulging bags of goodies at the foot of Bee and Belle’s beds, so where was mine? I put a note up the chimney, but nothing, nada. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

I went to the cashpoint and took out forty quid. Then I came home and gave it to Bee. “Use this,” I told her, “to make me a Christmas stocking.” She looked a bit taken aback at first, but quickly came round to the idea, because who doesn’t love being given somebody else’s money to spend? “I want lots of things to open, but nothing crap.”

You have to be direct with children I find.

Christmas morning came around and hoorah! Santa had been for me too. It was very exciting and well worth the investment, even if most of the stocking budget seemed to have been blown on a teeny tiny iPod speaker in the shape of a jukebox. (I was more explicit the following year about what I meant by ‘crap’).

What do you reckon? Do you buy your own gifts? Or is it the thought that counts, even if the thought only goes as far as the bath salt aisle of Boots?

*This is a joke Belle. I love you hand-made gifts really. And the cute things you wrap up from your room.

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What did people say to you when you told them you were pregnant? After the congratulations were out of the way, how many times were you warned of the sleepless nights to come, the rollercoaster hormone ride?

How seriously did you take it though? ‘Oh yes, sleepless nights! How hard can it be? I’ll just nap when my baby naps, they have to sleep sometime right?’

*shakes head pityingly*

Of course sometimes it does go right. Take Bee for instance – she was a miracle baby, sleeping through the night from six weeks old. In my head it was all down to me and my chillaxed parenting style. I was more than happy to take all the credit for her amazing ability to sleep, right up until Belle was born that is. Then suddenly I was convinced it was nature and not nurture, how else could I explain Belle not sleeping through the night until she started school?

This is where Start4Life comes in. The Start4Life team of medical experts, midwives and health visitors has pulled together the essential information to help new parents focus on the most important things they can do to improve their health and to get their baby off to the best start. Whether it’s breastfeeding, post-natal exercise or just remembering to drink plenty of water, there’s a lot you can do to help keep your family fit and healthy.

Not only that, but they’ve given me three copies of What To Expect When You’re Expecting’ on DVD to give away. What To Expect When You’re Expecting follows the lives of five couples, dealing with the highs and lows of becoming parents, and concluding that no matter how hard you plan, sometimes life just throws the unexpected at you.

"What to expect when you're expecting"

If you’d like your own copy of the film, just leave a comment on this post with your top tip for new and expectant parents on things they can do to take care of themselves and give their baby the best possible start. The competition will close on 21 November and three winners will be picked at random.

Good luck!

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Bee has decided that she wants to enter the Great British Bake Off. She has downloaded the forms, and it asks questions about your experience of baking lots of different things like cakes, biscuits, pies and tarts.

Now Bee is good at baking, but it would be fair to say that she hasn’t attempted anything too complex up until now. Her ‘Tigger’s Spicy Biscuits’ are always a big hit, but are they Great British Bake Off standard?

So that she has something to talk about on her application, she is trying to cram in as much practice as possible, and so is helping me on my Whitworths baking challenge. Today she is making chewy oat and sultana cookies.

Ingredients

  • 100g butter
  • 100g Whitworths for baking fine caster sugar
  • 1 tbsp runny honey
  • 2 eggs
  • 1 tsp cinnamon
  • 1 tsp mixed spice
  • 100g plain flour
  • 2 tsp baking powder
  • 160g porridge oats
  • 100g sultanas

Method

Pre-heat the oven to 180c/Gas Mark 4 and put on your pinny.

"apron"

Bee is well prepared

Lightly grease two baking sheets. Beat the sugar and butter in a large bowl until light and fluffy.

Add the honey and egg and continue to beat until combined. Add the spices and flour, beat to combine and finally add the oats and sultana.

"Cookie mixture"

The mixture was very tasty at this stage.

Spoon the mixture onto the baking sheets – you should be able to fit eight cookies on each sheet.

"Cookies ready for the oven"

Omanomnom

Bake for 10-12 minutes until golden. When they are cooked, allow to stand before two minutes before transferring to a cooling rack.

"Cookies fresh from the oven"

Pretty tasty at this stage too as it happens.

Make a cup of tea, put your feet up, eat three cookies and focus on the goodness of the oats. Wholesome right?

Well done Bee!

For more food recipes & restaurant ideas please have a look at Bingo Wings.

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Sat in the laundrette this morning, (waiting for my washing to dry, not just hanging out, drifter style), I spotted this story in the paper about a baby hedgehog that got stuck in a crisp packet:

"baby hedgehog"

This story sums up for me everything I love about the human species, and at the same time, everything that completely baffles me.

Within most people there is a basic level of kindness and compassion. As a species, we are blessed with strength of character and determination in the face of danger – the kind of determination that makes you want to spend three and a half hours trying to get a hedgehog out of a crisp packet.

Yet while I sat in the laundrette, dozens and dozens of people walked past the woman outside the little Sainsbury’s next door selling The Big Issue without even acknowledging her. Now I’ve nothing against hedgehogs, but where is the logic in that?

Of course our irrationality and lack of perspective manifests itself often in wonderfully unpredictable creativity and passion for the most bizarre of things, but it also means that while baby hedgehogs all over the country are being rescued, other actual human beings are living in poverty, being abused, and coping alone with other devastating problems.

Does this make sense to you?

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There are two types of people in this world. The people who get things done as soon as they know they need doing, and those that leave things until the last minute. Sometimes when I’m feeling super keen I am the former, but most of the time I still regress to my 15-year-old self, setting my alarm for 4am so I can finish my French coursework in time.

Why??

Why when I know I have weeks to complete a project, do I not start it until the latest possible minute? Why do I torture myself so?

This is the conversation I have with myself:

Sensible part of brain: Well, you’ve got lots of time for this work, so why not start now, get it done ahead of time, and be able to give it proper attention?

Silly part of brain: OR… I could have a little sit down and a biscuit, and start tomorrow? There is loads of time after all.

*repeat this conversation daily until the day before the work is due*

Silly part of brain, throwing biscuits on the floor in a panic: SHIT!!! I’ve only got a day!! Why didn’t I start earlier??

Sensible part of brain: SIGH

I found a cartoon today on my new very favourite website, Toothpaste For Dinner, that perfectly sums up my work style:

"The creative process"

I think that pretty much sums it up.

Working at home doesn’t help, as you’re surrounded by constant distractions that always seem so much more interesting. You know things are desperate when the hoover looks enticing. What strategies do you have for getting things done in a timely manner? Any top tips for avoiding procrastination?

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Happy Halloween!

Today Belle is guest posting for me with the beginnings of a spooky Halloween story, written all by herself. Belle has written her story as part of a competition being hosted by Asda, and inspired by her Asda Corpse Bride Halloween costume. The story that gets the most comments will win a prize so if you like Belle’s story, please do say so!

….

One dark stormy night two children set out trick or treating, but what they didn’t know was that this would be no ordinary night, it would be the night when the unusual thing happened…

As Baxter and Bliss stepped out the creaky door a shroud of darkness awaited them because this was the time of night when the known became unknown, the ghosts and ghouls came out of their dark, dingy hiding places, when zombies and vampires came looking for juicy children to snack on, skeletons and devils clattered and crawled out of their caves, witches made potions and werewolves prowled along the cobbled alleyways and grimy streets.

Bliss and Baxter wandered aimlessly down the slimy shortcuts and shadowy back alleys. They searched for houses without orange “no trick or treating ” signs up in the window or ones with lots of pumpkins. Finally they came to a house with lots of pumpkins and decorations saying stuff like ‘come in if you dare’ or ‘enter in at your own risk’ – stuff like that.

“Ha ha,” said Baxter laughing “I’m not scared of that rubbish, come on Bliss.” A wobble in his voice now.

Bliss whimpered.

“Don’t be such a baby, come on”  They knocked on the wooden door and it slowly creaked open….

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There, I’ve said it.

I love my Filofax. I love looking at it on my desk, I love sniffing it and I especially love walking around with it, carrying it proudly under my arm, and casually getting things out of it. (When I’m out with other people obviously, not just around the house on my own. Although…)

Since I got my Finsbury Personal Organiser* a couple of weeks ago, it has been settling in nicely with my other stationery items, and I’ve taken it on quite a few outings with me too. Oh yes, and it’s handy for writing things in too, but that’s secondary really to the sniffing.

Seriously though, it is very useful. I’ve always been much more of a pen and paper person. I have a Blackberry Torch, but I never use the calendar or address book. I prefer a white board and a stack of 17 or so notebooks for keeping track of my work.

One thing I love about my Filofax, now it’s getting towards the end of the year, is that I can have the 2013 diary insert in ready, and write next year’s appointment in the same place, rather than have to crack open a new diary or calendar and have two on the go at once. I’m also very excited about the different extras that you can buy to go in it. Father Christmas, if you are reading, I would like a Filofax themed stocking this year please.

Here’s a few photos so you can see what me and my Filofax have been up to:

"Filofax"

Settling in on my desk at home. The whiteboard markers have been showing it round.

"Filofax on the train"

On the train on the way to London, my Filofax has a little peep out of my handbag.

"Yellow filofax"

Most importantly though, does my Filofax match my nail varnish?

*This is its official name – long, like a pedigree dog. I’ve thought about calling it Finn for short, but I have a nephew called Finn, so that could get confusing. “Have you seen Finn?” I might ask my sister. “I think I left him in my handbag?”

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