I wanted to start easy for the return to the wooden spoon and I needed an occasion to bake for. I have thought about baking again a few times since I moved, however I always found an excuse not to, normally ‘I’m tired’ – it’s pretty fair, I am often tired. Somehow when I have it in my mind that I am doing something for my friends it makes me more committed to it. If I don’t do it, I feel like I am letting them down on something I have never even told them about. I don’t mind letting myself down so much, I can forgive myself very easily.

My friends moved house this week and I decided to bake them something as a housewarming gift. Moving is the worst. It’s exhausting, time consuming, sweaty, and near impossible to do by yourself. You need a car – who has a car in ULEZ central London? Once everything is moved you then have to sort through all your stuff making everything messy before it gets tidy and you always lose stuff along the way. Although decorating can be fun, but I always find I have big visions for the new place but my eyes are too big for my wallet so I only end up being able to pick up a couple of nice new things.

I remember when I was moving into my halls at university and how we lapped around the circumference of Manchester three times before finally finding the right place. It felt like the whole student body was moving in that day, and we kept getting ushered into the wrong places. We finally found the right building and my parents helped me haul my stuff up, bringing a shopping trolley of boxes up and down in the lift. I remember being so panicked I kept bashing into it painfully, the handle hitting just below my ribcage as I tried to manoeuvre it through the opening doors. After a five hour drive, extended by an hour on top of that from our circulations, after going up and down the stairs, and holding open heavy fire doors, my parents were not in a good mood. They were extremely grumpy and not trying to hide it at all. Actually I think they were exaggerating it just so I knew how much I had inconvenienced them. Once all my stuff was up in my room, we went for a quick ‘essentials’ food shop. I had no idea where we were and when we walked out the building I couldn’t work out which way it was to the nearest shop. I was standing swivelling on the spot looking down at my phone and watching the glow of the blue dot on Google maps, willing it to show me where I was. We managed to head in the right direction and soon we were at a Tesco express. We bought butter, soy milk, bread, cereal, a bag of dried pasta, and a jar of pesto. We headed out of the shop quietly and walked back to my halls. I had hurriedly put everything in one flimsy plastic bag, and as we walked the handles had begun to stretch and narrow so that they were digging painfully into my palms. I knew better than to complain and thought we could make it to my flat but then when we were going up the stairs the bag broke and everything was dashed out on the floor. The milk thumped and broke open covering the stairs in a pool of liquid as other freshers and their parents tried to get past with large boxes and bags. My dad was very frustrated and began yelling at me. It felt like all the stress of the day burst out along with the milk. I didn’t know what to say. I was embarrassed and all I could think about was how I wanted to make friends but this was not going to leave a good impression. Trying to make the situation lighter I waited for a gap in his speech and said ‘Don’t cry over spilt milk Dad’ but boy, oh boy, that just made it worse.

I found something to soak up the milk and told the building staff so they could clean it properly to get rid of the smell. We went to my kitchen and put the remaining items on the table. Dad had calmed down a bit by then but it was still tense. It was time for them to leave and they said an awkward goodbye and left quickly. Once they were gone it finally felt like the move was complete and the stress was over. I still had a lot to sort out but that was fine, I could do it across the week. Later that evening, my halls had a new arrivals mixers party. I went with my new flatmates and as we went around and met people, I was told countless times ‘oh, you’re the girl with the milk’ and I would say ‘yeah that’s me’ and try to laugh it off. It was a stressful move, and moves since then have been less stressful but they still require a lot of effort and assistance. At the time I didn’t get what my parent’s annoyance and stress was about but now, having moved many times, I feel that I too would probably yell on the stairs if I had driven six hours and then had to get on my hands and knees and clean a milk soaked carpet.

Luckily in their move my friends had no unfortunate milk situations. I hope my friends enjoy the housewarming cookies and can sit amongst all their boxes and mess, have a cup of tea, eat a cookie, and feel peaceful for a moment.

Goodbye for now (^-^)

Watch the reel I made for these Mocha Chocolate Chip house warming cookies!

The recipe I used was from I’ll Bake by Liberty Mendes.