Towels in the dryer

Whilst on holidays I stumbled upon a little gem of a book that delighted me for a few days. It's called The Shops and is written by India Knight, an English journalist and author that I adore. It's part memoir part shopping guide – which made me wonder could a finer premise for a book exist??

She says it's written for people like her who love shopping so much that they luxuriate doing the weekly run around the supermarket, as much as it's for her polar opposites. To convince them to cross the divide.

It sounds indulgent but it's actually not. She makes the fair point that very few of us get through a day without encountering a merchant of some description, so we may as well make it as pleasurable as possible.

The fact her life has been unique and quite eccentric helps the book along. As a child she lived between Belgium, England and India. Her parents' various marriages and relationships combined with larger than life grandparents, some bankruptcies and family feuds meant hers was certainly not an ordinary childhood. It's not going to change your life, but it's entertaining to read. Particularly if you fall into the any-shopping-trip-is-heaven camp.

One section that I especially loved was about birthdays. India is forthright that all birthdays require celebration and effort, regardless of the state of the coffers. For friends, partners and especially children, her view is it's a chance to make that person feel special.

She remembers one birthday when her mother was particularly poor. She woke up to her breakfast chair decorated with paper and ribbons and was allowed to choose whatever she wanted (within the confines of the pantry) to eat for breakfast. It wasn't fireworks but it was a small thing that made her day feel out of the ordinary, and made her feel special.

It struck a chord partly because a small person in my life is approaching her very first birthday. Apart from briefly thinking that perhaps it's a milestone worthy of celebration in my own honour (labour anyone??) I want her birthday to be special. India's perspective reassured me that celebrating these occasions is not indulgent. It's just a lovely thing to do.

Soon after reading this, I read a feature in The Times
about children and happiness. At the top of the list of things parents can do to create a happy environment is to instigate small habits and rituals to dot the weeks and years of their children's lives. Again it was not about extravagances but little things to give little people structure and occasions to look forward to.

I was recently reminded of the significance of small rituals. The house where we stayed in France had exceptional heated towel racks. One of the quirks of a minor electrical issue we couldn't figure out was that these towel racks remained on throughout the day. (My guilt regarding this energy wastage was ameliorated by the fact there was no electricity on the upper floor.) Anyway.

The racks made our towels, and the bathroom, so crispy and warm that hopping out of the shower was a real pleasure. Each time I wrapped myself in my warm towel I was immediately reminded of my Nanny, my mum's mother.

My warm towel reminded me of her because she used to put our towels in the dryer before bathtime. It was a treat. Something distinctly special about her. That we'd hop out of the bath and be wrapped in warm, fluffy goodness. It is among my most enduring memories of her and it's almost entirely physical. The sensation of wrapping myself in a warm towel, without even thinking, reminds me of her.

It was a small thing that made me feel special and made having her around feel out of the ordinary. Isn't it amazing that of the 14 years I had Nanny in my life - with all of the visits, birthday parties, Christmases, holidays, weekends and dinners those years entailed – it's the repetition and certainty of her putting my towel in the dryer, that I remember most?

I don't think I'll put my daughter's towel in the dryer - perhaps one of her grandmothers will do that when they visit - but I might just decorate her highchair the morning of her birthday. She's unlikley to notice it much this year or next, but if I do it for long enough, I'm certain she'll remember.

Do you have any special rituals in your house? What little habits do you remember from growing up?