The Stories We Tell at Family Gathering
It's a wonder I didn't get a phobia about my cake cooking abilities!
What are the stories told at your family gatherings? Are they funny? Happy? Cosy? Comforting? Do they evoke memories and feelings whenever the conversations start up? Do you find yourself repeating the stories to others in your life? Are you reminded of these stories at random moments throughout your day?
There’s a loveliness that can occur (as long as the stories are not too dark and psychologically damaging … and let’s face it, we all have those types of conversations pop up at the big family reunion BBQ's, don’t we? Or is that just me and my family?) when family stories are repeated.
Those kinds of stories help shape our identity and our sense of connection and belonging. They can help us tap into the heart of who we are and where we’ve come from. They can give the younger generation a sense of all of that too, particularly the stories that took place before their time.
Of course there are some that run through my family gatherings. The ones that most come to mind are food related. So very typical of me and my family too;)
I’ll tell you about one of them.
One was a story that developed from a cake I made my dad for his birthday one year. I had been on a roll with this particular cake. I tend to do that. I get addicted to a particular recipe, and I bake it until we can’t stomach it any longer.
So, I was into making caramel mud cakes, at the time. It was a lovely moist crumb, because that’s the only way a cake should be;) It had a thick, decadent, extremely sweet, fluffy caramel icing. To be completely honest, I think the icing was more butterscotch, but you get the flavour I was going for.
Of course, you now know the cake I made for my dad’s birthday celebration that year. A caramel mud cake.
The cake came out beautifully. It was one of those cakes that I could tell was going to taste exactly as I’d want it to. As it cooled on my old cooling rack, I started on the icing. Usually this is such a simple process, because I truly don’t love complicated recipes that need fussing over. But as I stirred, I noticed something quite dramatic happening. The icing, which was usually a firm buttery consistency was hardening. And quickly.
As I began to quietly freak out, I added more milk and decided that sooner, rather than later, was the time to start spreading the icing onto the cake, otherwise it was going to be near impossible to get the icing to spread. The cake was still a little warm, so I used that to my advantage.
Phew. I got it all on. Nice and thick and caramelly. It was firmish. More firm than any other icing I’d attempted, yes that was true, but it was OK. I guess it was fondant type hardness if I was to describe it to you.
I decorated it with caramel jerseys, popped it in my trusty Tupperware cake carrier complete with handle, and off we went to celebrate my dad’s birthday at his house.
We had a lovely time, dinner and cups of tea and some chatting time out on their big verandah that looked over the garden. As the day went on it came time to bring out the cake.
I’d brought along some candles and sparklers because that was the thing we did back then for everyone’s birthday. The sparklers went into the cake without too much of a hiccup. I mean the icing certainly felt harder than usual, but it wasn’t going to stop these sparklers from fizzing away.
The candles were a completely different kettle of fish. I think I even bent a couple trying to get them to sit inside that icing and stand upright, so we decided to do without the candles, because sparklers are fancier anyway, and we went forth with the lighting and the singing of happy birthday and the photo taking. All standard procedure.
Then, of course, came time to cut the cake. Let’s just say I tried with all my might to get that knife (and there are no blunt knives in my dad’s cutlery drawer!) into that cake, but it just wouldn’t cut. I handed the knife over to my sister to see if her strength was better than mine. Nope. I’d have to call on the heavy artillery. Dad!
To be honest I can’t remember the details but needless to say his almighty strength did the job, to a point, and we got to attempt to eat what resembled ‘slices’ of cake - I do use the term slices with looseness.
Once we’d made our way through as much of our slice as could be managed without too much dental damage, the comments began.
’We should’ve brought out the chainsaw.’
‘Look, the dogs can’t even eat it!’
“Watch what happens when I throw it over the verandah. Oooh it didn’t even crack!’
And so on.
You get the picture?
I have been the brunt of those comments ever since, whenever someone’s birthday would arrive, and I was designated cake baker. Needless to say, there were no more caramel icing appearances. But funnily enough, all of this talk about thick caramel icing has stirred my cravings. Perhaps it’s time to give it another whirl? Whose birthday is next?
Although that little story from my life may appear rather insignificant, it holds such fond memories for me. It reminds me of the days when we had regular family get-togethers, where food was an important part of the cosy comfort of it all. A cake, no matter the hardness of its icing, expressed gratitude and love and a heartfelt message to the family that they were loved. And it reminds me of the laughs and happy times we had, when we didn't take ourselves too seriously and when mistakes were turned into moments to giggle at.
It’s those little stories that are lovely to remember and jot down and share. They tell so much in their simplicity and when you put them all together, they form this beautiful tapestry of life where you are the thread that holds it all in place. It’s this very thing that called me to create Little Life Stories. Helping women identify and preserve these defining family narratives, before they're lost, feels so very important to me at this stage of my life. Time is chugging along and memories are easily forgotten. I don’t want to lose them. I don’t want you to either.
So, here’s a little fun thing you could try this week:
* List 3 stories that define your family. Three stories that are often spoken about and that have emotions related to nostalgia and that lovely sense of belonging and familiarity attached to them.
* Choose one and write about it. Just write it like you would have a conversation with someone. Don’t overthink it.
I’d love to know how you feel after you’ve done that little exercise. Please be sure to let me know.
Okey doke, so the doors to Little Life Stories will be opening again on the 14th of April. They’ll be open until the 21st of April. I have 12 spaces available over April, May and June. So, if you’re feeling ready to get those precious stories of yours written down, but you’re feeling a bit unsure commitment wise or for any other reason, please don’t hesitate to hit reply and have a chat with me about it all. I might be able to help you feel more at ease about the process, because it really is a special project to embark on and one that I know you won’t regret.
And if you’d like a bit more information about Little Life Stories you can read more here and join the wait list too if you’d like to be one of the first to know about it when the doors open.
You can join the wait list here.
Have a beautiful week!
PS There’ll be lots of stories and videos and things about stories and Little Life Stories happening over on Instagram this coming week so if you follow along over there I hope you enjoy it all. Please be sure to say hi if you see me live. I need all the support I can muster;)
If you do happen to be new here, hi there! I'm Kim, and I love to share stories of home and childhood, and the moments that connect me with the people and places I love so much. I love the good old-fashioned art of letter writing, in particular, and of course, all things stationery. I have a gorgeous letter writing group for women, called: The Lovely Letters Project. I have a new offering to help women write their personal life stories called: Little Life Stories. I also create whimsical, country style, illustrated (by my son, Lew) stationery subscription boxes called The Tea + Toast Club. I write about the connection between my precious Nan and I, in a letter bundle here: Dear Nan. I share all of these things over on Instagram, Pinterest and my website.
It’s really lovely to meet you!
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