Archive for May, 2012

What runs through my head when I’m falling asleep

This is specific to last night –

Gosh I’m tired. I wonder if I remembered to do everything at work today? Bins out? Yes. Lights out? Yes. Yeah, I did everything. O wait, I didn’t leave the air con on! O no. Dammit.

Is my alarm set? What should I make tomorrow? Banana bread probably. Muffins maybe.

Ok, mini self test. Criminal law. Theft. Where’s the definition found? Erm. Erm. Sleepy. Section 1. I think. Section 1 of the Theft Act. 19 something. Brain slowing down. 1968 I think. That’s all it can handle. Self test over.

Just remembered, I did leave the air con on at work. Phew.

I wonder where my trainers are. I haven’t seen them in days.

My phone needs charging. Too lazy to get out of bed and get the charger.

O no. I need a wee. If I go to sleep really quickly, maybe my body will forget then I can just go in the morning. Nope, I still need one. Ignore it.

Did I turn the oven off? I think so. Mmm, dinner was tasty this evening. Salmon. Mmm. I think I’ll do something chickeny tomorrow for dinner.

Should I try and remember something about mortgages? Stack v Dowden. And Tulk v Moxhay. Hmmm. I don’t remember why they’re important though. O well. Sleep time.

You’ll always be a part of me… I’m part of you indefinitelyyyy… Boy don’t you know you can’t escape me… Oo darlin cause you’ll always be me babyyyyy… What on earth? Go away Mariah.

I can’t wait til my exams are finished.

I wonder if it might be sunny tomorrow.

I love cake.

Budgeting in Laos

A few years ago, some friends and I were travelling around South East Asia. We had just crossed the border from Thailand into Laos and were staying in the capital city called Vientiane, on the banks of the Mekong River.

When we first arrived there, I think we had come in by coach and it was quite late in the evening. We just wanted to drop our stuff somewhere and go and eat. We weren’t really big on the whole planning-ahead scene. We loved the carefree nature of just turning up and seeing what we could find. So we hardly ever pre-booked hotels or anything. Sometimes it ended us in some pretty sticky situations but, on the whole, we preferred it. It suited us because we didn’t always know when we would be moving on, or where to.

So this time, we got off the coach, wandered along the front and saw somewhere which looked quite nice (we usually made do with ‘a bit grotty’ but this time we went for ‘quite nice’ because we were too tired to keep looking).

We go in, ask for a room for three and are taken to a really nice, quite plush room with wooden furnishings and a generally lovely ambience. It was a bit pricey but we agreed that we would just stay one night and find somewhere cheaper the next day. We still had a few weeks of travelling left and not a lot of money to do it on.

So the next day, around midday, we packed up our bags again, shouldered our weights (mine was getting ridiculously heavy by this point as I kept collecting books faster than I could read them and pass them on), paid our bill and told the owners we were leaving. As we stepped outside of this lovely comforting enticing hotel, the heavens opened….

We trudged the streets, getting more and more soaked, looking in any hostels, B&Bs or hotels we could find. We walked for maybe an hour and found a hostel with a room for three people which already had five hundred fleas in it, another place with a cockroach in the bath and some other places more expensive than the one we just left. I think we saw a few which just looked quite old and about to fall down. The entire time, it rained.

Fed up and getting quite grumpy by this point, we stopped in a little cafe to dry off and get something to eat. The afternoon was arriving and we hadn’t had anything, having not suspected that finding a room would prove so difficult. We started arguing a little bit with each other. This person needed to stop being so fussy, they were only fleas. And that person needed to relax about the big crack down the wall, what’s the problem, it probably only lets a little draft in. What’s a cockroach in the bath? We won’t bathe then, no big deal. And who cares if the room smells like urine? You’re getting too fussy, we’re on a budget here!

After skirting around the obvious for a long while, we eventually all admitted it. We had nowhere else to go but back to the same hotel we left an hour ago. We’d come full circle in our search and as we left the cafe, we realised that we were just around the corner from the hotel.

Sheepishly, we shuffled around the corner and approached the hotel. We sneaked a look in the front and, sure enough, the same people were at the desk. Earlier, they had asked us why we were leaving and we had explained that we were students on a budget, we needed somewhere more affordable.

We hung around outside for a few minutes, deciding who should lead the walk of shame back to the reception desk. I think I was nominated in the end and we re-entered the hotel, quietly explaining that we would like ‘a room for three, please.’ Of course they recognised us. With huge smiles on their face, they took down a key and lead us back to the exactroom we had left an hour ago and told us to make ourselves at home….

When we left the hotel a few minutes later, desperate to put some distance between ourselves and our shame, the rain had stopped and the sun had come out. And it stayed pretty sunny for the rest of our stay in Vientiane at that hotel.

The return of the caterpony

In Z is for… I played around with some animal combinations and the most popular seemed to be the caterpony. (Should I put another ‘t’ in there so it is clear how it should be pronounced? Catterpony?)

So I thought I’d revive the caterpony today and see what I can get from it. Ok, here goes.

 

The beautiful little caterpony was the loveliest creature in the whole forest. He was kind hearted and everybody loved him.

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He was sometimes unhappy, though, as he had such short legs that he couldn’t keep up with the other animals. When they played football, he couldn’t run very fast so often he was not passed the ball even once! He also wasn’t tall enough to reach the tree branches to talk to his friends who lived up there. He felt very left out and small and slow.

He shuffled around, thinking about his dilemma. It made him very tired to think about it for a long time so he decided to have a little sleep. He felt a bit cold so he gathered dry grass and leaves and built a small comfortable room, just big enough for him to fit in.

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Then he got in and had a little rest. Days later, after his friends had been looking and looking for him, extremely worried, he emerged.

But he felt different. The ground didn’t feel so close. He had an urge to leap very high into the air.

And that’s when he looked down and realised what had happened.

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He had turned into a beautiful butterhorse! He went to show his friends and they all wanted him on their side for football. He could run faster than anyone else in the forest with his lovely long legs. He could also see right into the trees and talk to his friends. And sometimes, when he wanted to see his friends who lived further away, near the sea, he could fly there and stay for tea.

THE END.

Asparagus fingers

Blu, Buster and Beckham. These are all names of children in stories in the Chat magazine. Ridiculous. I’m now getting a good idea of who reads these magazines. They name their children Blu and Buster, call the fire brigade when baby gets a toilet seat stuck on his head and they send their stories in to Chat. Maybe you get paid well for your story? That’s why you get nonsense that’s not stories at all. The ’13 day pregnancy’ in this issue wasn’t that at all. It’s just that she found out she was pregnant quite late in the day, and gave birth 13 days later. It’s not really a 13 day pregnancy, is it?

So anyway, I was thinking to myself, maybe I’ll send in a story. I could book myself a nice holiday if it pays well.

Ok, now what could I write about? I need a dramatic title. Erm.

“Death by ravioli!” for example. Or “I found an ear in my cake!” Or maybe a disease? Something obscure and probably not real. Like “Rare disease turns my fingers into asparagus spears.”

Ok, let’s run with that one. I could do a photo of me looking sad…

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“It all started when I was 14,” I could write. “I’ve always loved asparagus. If I’d have known what it was going to do to me, I wouldn’t have eaten a single one.”

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“Then, when I was 20, I started to notice the skin on my hands was changing. I thought it might be because I had recently started to work in a kitchen so my hands were exposed to different temperatures a lot. I thought they might just need moisturising. But it made no difference. In fact, my skin was feeling slightly rubbery so didn’t absorb the moisturiser at all.

“One day, whilst biting my nail, I noticed it had a funny taste. And the texture was different. And that’s when I realised it… My fingers had turned into asparagus!

“I called in sick that day, terrified that I might accidentally cut off one of my own fingers whilst preparing food. I went to A&E with a long sleeved coat on, too embarrassed to show my hands…

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“When the nurses asked me to fill out the form, I tried but couldn’t pick the pen up. I heard a few nurses gasp and there were whispers of “asparagus fingers” and giggles. I felt so ashamed.

“When the doctor saw me, he said I have a rare disease called vegetablefingeritis. It can happen when someone eats a lot of one vegetable. He said I should be grateful I hadn’t chosen to eat carrots, like this poor person…

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“I’ve learned to live with my disease now, and give motivational talks to youngsters about living through adversity and about varying their vegetable intake. Although I struggle to do almost anything which requires the use of hands (most things) I refuse to be defeated by my asparagus fingers and have learned how to do other things which do not require hands. I am extremely adept at turning on the TV using my nose, and watching daytime TV. Rikki Lake is my favourite.”

And at the end there could another photo of me, with a different vegetable, a mushroom perhaps. And the caption could be “Laura stays away from asparagus now!”

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What do you think? Should I send it in? I think it’s got potential.

The Hairy Dogmother

I haven’t done one of these in ages, so I thought it was time to check in with everyone’s favourite magazine. You guessed it! Chat!

You know it’s going to be a good one when the front cover has stories such as ‘Bow WOW! My dog’s got wheely ace skills’ (next to a picture of a dog on a scooter), ‘Filmed on the loo by PERVERT in LADIES’ PANTS’ and ’13 DAY PREGNANCY THEN I HAD TWINS!’

I’ve noticed they’ve got a real thing about animal stories. They ran a ‘Mystic Mutt’ feature for a while, which was amazing. The psychic dog would answer letters from troubled animals, who wrote in about their problems. That’s right. You read it right. Animals. Would write in. To a magazine. And the psychic dog. Psychic, that’s right. Psychic dog. Would answer them. With advice. Or messages from the other realm.

This week’s Chat has the fairly standard stories, you know, a sex change here, a brutal attack there, girl kept in a cage, I’m in love with my granddad, I’ve got/had a rare disease but am not giving up hope, all those type of things. But by far the best this week is a story called ‘Hairy Dogmother To Cute Cubs,’ and the summary is “Abandoned by their real mum, I’ve adopted a trio of tigers.” I read on, expecting it to be about a woman who was in Thailand on holiday, maybe, at an animal sanctuary or something, she loves animals, there were some tigers, she loved them, she stayed and adopted them and now they are her life, she loves them.

I’m reading…

“‘Meow,’ the hungry bundle of fluff beside me cried. I nudged their striped fur and gave them a lick..”

Hold on, she’s going to get fur in her mouth, that’s gross, that’s how diseases spread. Silly woman…

“You see, I’d recently given birth to a litter of pups, so I had lots of milk to go around..”

Wait a minute!! Woah there! The penny drops! It’s not a woman writing this! It’s a dog! Well, it’s not really. Obviously. But the article is written from a dog’s point of view!

This is mental. It’s mental. What was the author thinking. When I look to the end of the article, sure enough, there it is. “By Duoduo the dog, from Qingdao, China.”

So not only can the dog apparently write, he is also bilingual! He’s a Chinese dog who has written an article for an English magazine.

He’s also a funny dog. Check these little puns out = “You may think I’m barking mad…” “It could have been a complete cat-astrophe.”

I’m sorry, I can’t write anymore at the moment. My mind is reeling. I need to get a cup of tea and sit still for a while.

Freedom Music

It’s part two of my regular guest blogger’s thoughts on ‘freedom.’

Popular music, through the last five decades or so, has, in certain ways, reflected what the young see as their desire for and, in some ways, their definition of freedom. It will only be possible to take a few examples as there are so many songs could fall into this category. I hope they will illustrate the point.
In 1965 the Rolling Stones recorded a song I’m Free To Do What I Want. The lyrics also tell of being free to get what “I want”. In other words it’s actually talking about probably the most selfish sort of freedom you can imagine: the freedom to do, get or possess whatever you want. The song makes no reference to any effect on anyone else. From the writer’s point of view I don’t think he has even given that any thought. What’s behind the words then? I think simply a rebellion of youth against what it saw, in those days, as the rules or way of life of the older generation. Is that the freedom you’re seeking – to choose to do & to get what you want?
Are you attracted by that archetypal image of the apparently free-roaming hobo riding the freight trains across America taking him wherever they’re going? Or the “southbound odyssey” of Steve Goodman’s song The City Of New Orleans, (recorded by Arlo Guthrie on his album Hobo’s Lullaby, & by a number of other singers).
Perhaps the Easy Rider type of journey appeals – on your motorbike, travelling free. The 1969 film is described in its Wikipedia entry as “the story of two bikers….who travel through the American South-West and South with the aim of asserting their freedom”. The song The Ballad of Easy Rider contains the aspirational phrase, “all they wanted was to be free”. The film certainly kicks off with a great travelling anthem as the opening credits roll (btw some 7 minutes into the film!): “Get your motor running, head out on the highway, looking for adventure and whatever comes our way”. Towards the end, after they’ve made their money (illegally, remember), they’re sat round the camp fire talking. Billy (Dennis Hopper) is rejoicing – “you go for the big money and you’re free”; Wyatt (Peter Fonda) says they blew it. Presumably, to him, they didn’t have the sort of freedom he thought they would.
Van Morrison has a song called You Make Me Feel So Free speaking of how another person can give you a sense of freedom. From his mid-eighties album No Guru, No Method, No Teacher, one song speaks of going to a town called Paradise “where we can be free”.
Some years later, Oasis spoke of freedom in their 1994 song Whatever (I’m Free). They wanted the freedom to say whatever they liked. Worryingly, they go further by not caring if it’s wrong or if it’s right! Fellow blogger, therabbitholez, made a comment on last Weds’ Freedom Rules piece which I agree with. If you have a look at that, I hope you can see there’s more to freedom than just the “I want” part which Oasis focus on. The B-side of that record, (It’s Good) To Be Free speaks of it being good to be free in the context of living where they want. Of course for those living under oppressive regimes the choice to live where they want is not an option. Popstars have enough money to be able to make the choices which make them happy. Others, less well off, don’t.
In case you think it’s only modern(-ish) songs that take this a theme – it isn’t. There is, for example, a 1933 Jimmy Rodgers song (also recorded by a number of others) called I’m Free From The Chain Gang Now. It has these words, by an innocent man, in one of the verses:
“Back home, I was known and respected then one day I was wrongly suspected,
So they put me in chains in a cold freezin’ rain but I’m free from the chain gang now.”
Much further back in history, there are examples of songs written in the 18th C about freedom & liberty. Some of those include a call to men to lay their lives down for the cause of freedom. Have a think on the last verse of American Hero (by Andrew Law, 1748-1821):
“Life, for my country and the cause of freedom,
Is but a trifle for a worm to part with;
And if preserved in so great a contest,
Life is redoubled.”
Of course there are many other songs referring to the freedom from oppression sought by people in various nations, not just the USA. Also, the verse above could apply equally to those who gave their lives in the two World Wars of the last century so that succeeding generations could be free from the control of a tyrannical invading power.
In Freedom Rules, I gave the 4 types of freedom specified by Roosevelt which, he said, should exist for everyone around the world. Gary McGrath at mcgrath.com/freesongs puts it this way:
“Freedom is the absence of forcible constraint on actions which do not violate the rights of others.”
Another good definition. It highlights what I think most people believe – that an individual’s freedom must incorporate an acceptance by that individual of responsibilities to the wider society. Our societies today focus very much on personal rights but not so much on those personal responsibilities. I wonder why?
The UN’s Universal Declaration of Human Rights begins with these words: “recognition of the inherent dignity and of the equal and inalienable rights of all members of the human family is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world..” Article 1, of the same document, opens with “All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights.”
I think that enshrines much of what we would like to go into a definition of freedom. However, when we look at the record of some countries, within the UN, who’ve signed up to this there’s a big question – how, in reality, can it be enforced? And will it ever be?

Photo diary of my first wedding cake

Due to a torrent of requests (one) I have decided to bow to public pressure (a few Twitter comments) and make today the photo diary of my epic adventure into the world of wedding cakes.

It started with an offer to bake the cake for a friend’s big day. It was only a small affair so nothing amazing was expected. The friend runs a gallery and requested a cake which looked like a picture frame. Ok, I thought, and got to work with my imagination. I got fancier and fancier. A visit to the cake shop had me with armfuls of stuff to put on.

I dipped into the best cake cookbook I know, from the Hummingbird Bakery and decided on two types of cake, in case I just did one and they hated it. It was like a back up option, to have two! I did a red velvet cake (but not red) and a kind of carrot cake but without carrots and with bananas, pineapples and pecans instead. With cream cheese frosting.

And so it started.

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I made lots of little chocolate truffles. I coated some in white chocolate but ended up using the plain ones instead. They’re so simple – oreo biscuits in a food processor then cream cheese added and whizzed until it’s all chocolate coloured and sticking together.

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I made cream cheese frosting. 50g butter and 300g icing sugar mixed together then 125g cream cheese. Whisk until light and fluffy, about 5 mins.

Then made the red velvet cake. I left out the red partly because I didn’t think it would go with the cake’s colour scheme and partly because I’d run out of it. If you’ve never had red velvet cake, the reason it’s so amazing is that it’s the loveliest, softest cake ever. I think it’s because it has buttermilk in it but that’s just me guessing. Try one. It’ll blow you away.

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Then I made the fruity nutty cake, which was unusual because it doesn’t have butter. It uses sunflower oil instead, and has 3 bananas, some chopped pineapple and loads of pecans. It tastes really soft and decadent.

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I then cut them so the inside edges were straight and put a layer of the frosting down the middle and stuck them together to make a square.

I covered the whole thing with the frosting…

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…And put the decorations in the middle, worried that if I did the outside decorations first I might knock them while working on the middle bit.

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Next I put the gold paint into the remaining frosting… And disaster! It didn’t look gold at all! I looked kind of dark and un-food-like. I panicked and ran to the cake shop and burst in, explaining my dilemma. “Yeh it’s really hard to make frosting gold.” It wasn’t the thing I really wanted to hear. Their answer? Gold leaf! Ok. I’ve never worked with it before but I was prepared to give it a go. Back home, I piped on the not-gold frosting in the shape of the frame….

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…And put some of the edible red carnation petals together with a blob of melted white chocolate to keep them in place…

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I then covered the darker area in the gold leaf. I must add that I said the word ‘shit!’ quite a lot during this period because it went absolutely everywhere except where I needed it – on the cake! I covered some of the truffles in gold too.

Then, to cover a mistake in the bottom left hand corner, I put some little white hearts and the petals in the opposite corner. I then dotted a few of the gold truffles on, there wasn’t really space for more. And it was ready!

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The groom seemed pleased with how it looked so hopefully it tasted ok too. Fingers crossed.

Things I learned –

Gold leaf is hard to work with.
Get extra of everything.
It is good to have a cake shop near to your house.

If anyone wants any of the recipes for the cake, just let me know and I’ll post them up.

A book and free time

I was away on holiday recently. It was nice. There was sun (sometimes), a swimming pool, a lovely group of people and some children to liven the mood, lots of water parks, beaches, shops, restaurants. All the stuff that you do for fun on holiday.

Except that I didn’t really need any of those things. I just need a good book and to not have anything to do. I’m quite self conscious about my type of fun, as it’s a bit antisocial and doesn’t involve screaming and laughing and splashing around in cold water, playing water polo or something. It doesn’t make me look like much fun.

While the others ran toward the oncoming waves and squealed and ran back when the freezing water hit them, and laughed together, I sat on a towel with a copy of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s short stories and had the time of my life. I don’t hate running in and out of the water, it’s quite good fun sometimes. I also like sitting in a cafe with an espresso (at no other time in my life do I drink espressos, in fact I really dislike the taste of coffee. I think I do it in cafes when I’m in public to feel grown up). I like taking a lovely walk down the twisty roads, seeing the trees and rosemary bushes and wildlife. All these things I like doing. But if I’m totally, truly honest with myself, I don’t actually need any of those things. I just need a good book and a place to sit and to have nothing on my mind (hence, I did zero studying on holiday…).

So they ran in and out of the water, shivered, laughed, played together. I took photos from my vantage point on the towel and read the Pat Hobby stories. It’s not that I don’t like people, but I spend the whole year being force-fed big fat textbooks and cases and statutes and no time for choosing something nice to read. So when I’m away from the textbooks, that’s what I most want to do.

Until recently, I would just wait and read later and spend more time doing group things, things that are fun together. But I read a book about being honest with yourself about the things you find fun and that’s what I find fun.

I’m not about to forgo hot air balloon rides over the desert or mountain trekking in exotic places, in the name of reading books, because that’s ‘my’ type of fun! I’d like to think I still do exciting things, but in a more everyday way, I’d just like a book and free time please.

P.S. 15 days till first exam. Today’s revision topic is Constitution in Equity and Trusts Law.

“I’m alright”

I have a friend who doesn’t understand why I say this when I do. Actually, neither can I. But I say ‘I’m alright’ as a reply to questions quite often. Examples are:

Friend: “Laura, would like a cup of tea?”
Me: “I’m alright.”

Friend: “This programme is a bit boring. Would you like to watch something else on TV?”
Laura: “I’m alright. I’m studying anyway.”

Friend: “Would you like to stay for dinner?”
Me: “I’m alright, thanks. I’d better get home and study.”

I’m alright?! How is that synonymous with ‘yes’ or ‘no’? I use it to mean ‘no’ but why? Why is telling someone what your mood is like the same as saying ‘no, thank you’? The friend who gets annoyed always replies with, “Yes, I know you’re alright. But would you like a cup of tea?” He says that unless I’m really crying or have mentioned that I’m not feeling good for any reason, he can presume that I’m alright. But that’s not the conversation he was having. He’s asking me if I want something.

But I can’t help it. It just comes out when I’m answering a question. ‘I’m alright,’ I say, as if it’s an answer. I guess it means, ‘I’m alright without it.’ That’s still not satisfactory because lots of things I’m ‘alright’ without but I still want them. I’m ‘alright’ without the cup of tea, no big disaster is going to happen, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want one. So no, it doesn’t really make a lot of sense, no.

I definitely used to say ‘I’m good’ to mean the same thing. I remember being on a driving lesson and saying it. Driving instructor said something about lessons next week, was I going to book an extra one, or something, and I said, ‘I’m good’ to mean no.

It’s like there are two different conversations going on. One person is saying, ‘I’m asking you if you want something,’ and you’re saying, ‘Let me tell you about my behaviour/mood.’ It’s quite rude really, just interrupting their conversation and starting a different one. Imagine if that’s how all conversations went:

“Hi, how are you?” “I love cricket.”

“Do you want to meet up for a coffee?” “Did you know my middle name is Louise?”

“I’ll call you later.” “I must remember to pick up the dry cleaning.”

We wouldn’t get very far in our interactions, would we? We’d all just be going on about random things whilst in the company of other people.

I must try using ‘yes’ and ‘no’ more often, I guess.

P.S. 16 days til first exam. Today’s study topic is Formalities in Equity and Trusts Law.

Cake talk

Today, I have a day off work, so my brain has gone into meltdown. I’m not very good with time off. So I make jobs for myself. I have made a cake this morning already. I have also done a bit of Land Law revision. It’s mortgages today. Not the most fascinating thing I can think of. With the brain in meltdown, I’m not very good at thinking what to blog about. So I’m just going to blog what’s on my mind.

The biggest thing is planning a wedding cake. Not for me, I might add! Someone else is getting married and I’m doing their cake. (Me? Getting married? What a hilarious thought!) I had trouble falling asleep last night because I was planning it in such detail. I love a foodie project. Yesterday I went into the cake supplies shop and was just out of control. It’s like someone had unleashed the mad woman that I usually keep under wraps and told her to get one of everything! It’s not like I went in with a plan in mind and got things which fitted with my plan. Instead I looked in great detail at absolutely everything in the shop and thought about how I could possibly use it, picked it up and kept moving. Occasionally I placed things back when I’d re-made the plan after looking at the next item but my arms were still pretty full by the time I got to the till (maybe an hour after entering the shop).

When I was falling asleep last night I was running through, over and over again what I was going to do, whether I should put this here or that there. What type of cake should I do for the cake bit? I also took the momentous step of finally purchasing a piping bag, which is a thing I’ve always felt like I should have but was quite intimidated by, like muslin cloth. I now have both. I think I should practise piping things first because I can just see a big disaster happening on the actual cake.

Now I don’t want to jinx things by talking about it too much and I hope Mr/Mrs Soon-To-Be-Married don’t stop by this blog before the big day but here’s the plan. Opinions please.

He owns a gallery and requested a cake in the shape of a picture frame. So I’m going to do a square/rectangle cake with gold frosting for the frame bit. Then inside the frame there’ll just be white frosting and I got two little silver letters for their names.

Oo! I’ve just thought! Gold framing and silver letters?! It’s not going to go together. Dammit. Should I go and get gold letters instead? Or will that be gold overload?

Anyway, two letters for names, whichever colour they end up being. Then I have edible red carnation petals that I thought I’d make a little flower out of for one corner and two small white icing hearts for the opposite corner. I’ve got two teeny tiny mini champagne flutes to put in the middle and thought I’d make some really small white chocolate truffles to either put on the board around the bottom of the cake or to put round the edge next to the flower, so it looks like part of the pattern on the frame.

It will probably change tomorrow, and the next day, so I’m going to start making little sketches or something so I remember each idea before I change it. Actually, here’s the one for what my current idea is… (Obviously my artistic skills are somewhat lacking and the proportions will no doubt end up completely different.Those little blobs in the two corners are the mini white chocolate truffles.)

Anyway, that’s the main thing on my mind this morning. Other thoughts are:

‘I’d better try and finish revising mortgages today as the exams are really close..’

….and ‘Omygoodness I ate a lot at the staff meal out last night, I should probably try to do a long walk or something to balance it out…’

…and ‘I want to make the truffles for the cake today.’