Show and tell

I've been living in a creative maelstrom this week. It all started with a cake I made.

We've had success with the vegetable garden this summer, and have a lot - a LOT - of courgettes coming to fruition now.  Zucchini, for our American readers.  We're eating them with supper most nights, cooked in a variety of interesting ways, often sliced into long thin strips and pan-fried with mixed herbs and a little butter.  Nom nom nom.

Anyway.  I was flicking through a free magazine that came through the door, and lo! it contained a recipe for chocolate courgette cake.  I had to try it.

Readers, it was excellent.  Really.  Plenty of sugar, cocoa, eggs, flour, vanilla.  All the usual malarky, but you also add loads of finely grated courgette.  The cake was dark, moist and delicious, and I shall definitely make it again.  I tore the recipe out of the magazine and put it in the new noticeboard.

In fact, here's a link to the recipe. Try it, you'll thank me.  Plus, it's a great way to make children eat vegetables, apparently. 

Mwahahahahahaaaaaaa.

What's that you say?  Why, yes, I have made another fabulous notice board, thanks for asking.

Here it is, look:

Hanging in the kitchen, adding a much-needed point of interest to the otherwise dull sad corner where the bin lives.  None of the cool appliances ever go there.  It's like the Woking of the kitchen world. 

Inspired by my soaraway success in the noticeboard arena, I made some cushion covers to replace a couple that had got tatty and spotted*, utilising some of the fabric liberated from father-in-law WithaY's antique-restoring stash. 

Unfortunately, this gold one looks a bit sad and flat. I think it needs a new feather cushion thingy.  We all get a bit squashed by life, I reckon, but this poor cushion shows it more than most.

However, this one I am delighted with:

I spent bloody ages making sure the pattern was central to the front of the cushion, as I knew that otherwise, every time I looked at it I'd get all anal** and grumpy about it being off-centre.

There is a new set of bathroom curtains almost finished, too, I plan to get them up tomorrow.

Other news:  Went into town today thinking that the rain had stopped for the afternoon.  Fool that I was.  Mr T would have pitied me, no doubt about it.   

As soon as I parked the car and got the heavy box of crockery and assorted ephemera from the boot, the heavens opened.  Actually, I think the heavens opened, and hell was raining upwards, there was so much sodding water everywhere. 

I had to walk (slowly because of the heavy box) to the charity shop in torrential rain, blinded by the wet stringy hair that was in my eyes (mine, not someone else's with no concept of personal space) and my raincoat hood blinkering me like some sort of piteous Victorian cab-horse. 

Gah.

By the time I got to Oxfam and handed the box to the nice lady behind the counter, I was soaked.  My trousers were absolutely drenched, but my feet stayed dry - hurrah for Converse shoes! - so I thought I might as well walk around town as it wasn't physically possible to get any wetter.

A man from Wessex Water was stood on the pavement beside his van, watching the rain flooding down onto the main road from a narrow driveway, muddy water cascading into the drains.

"You out collecting?" I asked him.

He laughed and said  "Don't need to, we've got plenty thanks."

It's rained almost every day this month, or that's how it feels.  Hopefully we'll have a nice Indian summer next month.

My roses are looking splendid though.  All this rain has brought out a second crop of flowers, so I am dashing out and cutting a few in between downpours so we can enjoy them in the house. 

Mr WithaY bought me a proper woven willow shopping basket the other week when he was at the Wilderness Gathering.  It's a three day event where Men*** gather to do Manly Things.  However, he didn't stay there this time, he commuted from home daily.  Last time he went he slept in his little tent and spent the weekend making a fish spear, casually whittling and lashing as all the other manly men wandered past enviously.

I imagine he'll get a stern letter from Ray Mears, telling him off.

It was very impressive, though.



*Spotted with bits of food, mostly, from where we use them to rest trays on when we scarf down dinner in front of the telly.  Shame, shame, we are chavs and slatterns.  But, hey, Star Trek and all, right at dinnertime. 

**Welcome, dodgy word googlers!

***And women. 

Showcase

I thought I'd use a blog post or two to share some of my friends' amazing skills and talents with the wider world.

Not the sort of amazing talents that leave everyone else in the room hooting with laughter, or feeling a bit queasy, or calling an ambulance, though.  No, no no.  Although there's probably a few blog posts right there, come to think of it.

These are constructive and marketable talents, as opposed to the sort that get you a recurring slot on Rude Tube or some low-budget reality TV programme.

Part of the reason for this is because yesterday I had an Adventure.  I went to the Art in Action show - all the way to Oxford! - all on my own.  And I managed to get there and back without going via Watford Gap services.  Yay me.

A mate of mine was exhibiting there, so I had a proper reason to visit, but I am really glad I went anyway, there was so much to see.  Anyway, wandering round looking at all the various artists got me thinking about the people I know who make great stuff, and I thought I'd share some of them on here.

So, first up, my mate who I went to see at the show.  He's called Bruce Aitken, and he makes clocks.  Rather amazing ones.  I have taken a few photos of his work, but look at the ones on his website too. 

Gorgeous.

There was a chap there doing some blacksmithing, so I watched him...um...perform for a bit.  I worked out that I know at least four blacksmiths.  Hello Ian, Rick, Sherman and Chris!

Madregal Designs.  If you need any fancy ironwork doing, swing by this place and see what they can do for you. 

Anvil Art.  If you prefer, go here and take a look.

Bowstock.  If you need any leather working doing for you, or indeed, some hard-to-find leatherworking supplies, check out Steve's site here. 

TymeAgain.  If you need some well-made historical toys, go here.  Their toys are just fab.  And they are lovely people to boot. 

Delingpole Studio.  Need some fancy artwork doing?  Go and look at Richard's website here. 

The Full Motley.  Having a party?  Get a band! In fact, get this band! 

I hope, in due course, to add my own little website to the list, but until I work out what I can make, and whether anyone else wants to buy it, it's staying in my head.

Other news:  We continue with the great house clearance task, but it is improving.  Mr WithaY has cleared out the shed this afternoon, moving various boxes hither and thither, and as a result there is far less junk in the kitchen. 

Several of the bookcases have been found new homes, and most rooms no longer look like they belong in Steptoe's house.  Relief all round.

To celebrate the (mostly) back to normal kitchen, I have been domestic goddessing  in it.  I made redcurrant jelly with about one third garden redcurrants, two thirds supermarket redcurrants, and it has turned out very well. 

Today I made grape jelly.  That was less successful, but hey, I had some grapes in the fridge and I was in a jellying frame of mind.  I also made a lemon drizzle cake.

Note to cooks:  When you make a lemon drizzle cake, pour the sticky lemon juice and sugar mixture over the top of the cake AFTER you do the two plates thing to invert it and get it out of the tin. Otherwise, the top of the cake stickes to the plate, leaving a sorry mess.

Gah.

Heroics 101

Ah, London.  Still too noisy, too crowded, too filthy.  But I was glad to be back at work last week.  We have a new Big Boss now as a result of the huge changes taking place across our Department, so it will be interesting to see how things change under his leadership. 

It was a short week, what with last Monday being a Bank Holiday, but even so by Friday lunchtime I was KNACKERED.  And that was after two days working at home, and only two where I had to travel to the office.  The trains were pleasantly under-crowded, I guess a lot of people were still on holiday.  Monday will be different. 

There has been a new and delightful addition to the usual carriage-full of exhausted and grumpy commuters, though.  I shall call him Adenoid Man.  He sleeps the entire way to London, mouth agape, snorting and gruntling to himself in his own little private dreamworld for two hours.  If I ever have to sit next to him, there WILL be a recording made, I promise.  And photographs. Well, if you fall asleep on public transport, what do you expect?  Honestly. 

I'm sitting in my study this afternoon with the window open, blue sky, sunshine and birds singing.  It's like a little foretaste of spring in between the cold and rain of January.  Lovely.  There's no sign of any of the Spring bulbs coming up in the garden yet, I expect the snow and ice of December impeded them.  Another few weeks though, hopefully, and there will be crocuses.  Crocii?  Croca?

Anyhoo, it won't be long before we get some flowers making an appearance.

In other news:  I made a cake yesterday.  First cake I've made in about ten months, I think.  I bought myself a cook book and decided to try out one of the recipes.  I made the ginger and marmalade loaf, and it was marvellous.   Mr WithaY had been out shooting all day (one cartridge fired, nothing hit, not a good day) so when he got home he was cold and a bit grumpy; a nice cup of tea and a bit of cake was just the ticket. 

God, I'm so British.

The success of that recipe has encouraged me to have a go at some of the others, so I will probably make another cake next weekend. 

In not entirely unrelated news, I think I've put on about 5 pounds since my last trip to the slimming group, waaaaay back at the end of November.  In my defence, I had a month of Black Lung, and then Christmas, so I will go along in a positive frame of mind next week ready to start again.  I'm still 2 stone lighter and 2 dress sizes smaller than I was this time last year.  Onwards and upwards.

Also, Mr WithaY presented me with my Christmas present this week.  It is (and I am sorry if this repulses you) the official companion book to the new World of Warcraft Cataclysm expansion pack.  Yes, I know, I know.  Shut up.  I was thrilled. 

He still maintains that we agreed not to do Christmas gifts.  I have no recollection of any such agreement.  I have taken the precaution of noting my birthday on the calendar later this month, and have casually mentioned several time that we ARE doing birthday presents.  Just to be on the safe side, you understand.

I've been reading some more pulp adventure books on my iPhone on the train this week.  Edgar Rice Burroughs' science fiction, to be exact.  My word but it's formulaic.  I can't decide if it's formulaic because it's derivative, or because it is what everyone else copied.

Either way, I think I boiled the basics down as follows:

1)  Hero is a strapping Earthman who has found himself on an alien planet, Mars or Venus probably. Meets and falls for gorgeous high-ranking local bird.  Probably a princess. 

2)  Hero and bird embroiled in complicated and unconvincing mishap which forces them to flee the city in a flying machine.  No other people on the alien planet should have flying machines, or if they do, theirs are outclassed by the Earthman's.  Oh, plus the Earthman has a weapon that nobody else has, which allows him to mow them down in their dozens without risk of injury to himself or his bird.  Insert partonising paragraph about how bird is eventually trained to use either the weapon or to fly the aircraft semi-competently here. 

3)  Tedious and idiotic adventures follow, usually as a result of the Earthman's own stupidity.  This should entail trying to travel back to safety, seeing a city down below, and deciding to go and take a closer look despite the protestations of his bird and/or any other assorted companions he has acquired.  Flying machine is then somehow lured down or incapacitated by missile fire due to crap piloting or flat disregard of common sense. 

4)  Earthman and companions all imprisoned and thrown into Pits.  Insert horrible and detailed descriptions of natives and their vile cannibalistic/torturing/human sacrificing behaviour, sometimes with gratuitous sexual typecasting here.  There may well be an unflattering description of males of another species who are not "manly" enough. 

5)  Unlikely series of coincidences and serendipity allows Earthman and companions to escape.  During long-winded escape, hero and his companions must do at least 3 of the following:

• find long-lost city now ruled by hideous monsters
• uncover huge assassination plot
• fight alien tigers
• encounter wise but dying creature
• encounter vile but redeemable creature
• spurn the love of beautiful but unprincipled woman
• reunite ruler of city with heir, presumed dead all these years
• discover hidden treasure
• explore parts of the world nobody else has ever discovered
• find missing civilisation

Repeat at least five times per book. 

I don't think I'll read any more.

Not a patch on Conan. 

Elementary

August. Gah. It's dark, windy, rainy and bloody freezing this weekend.

This Bank Holiday Weekend.

Yes, a long weekend, traditionally used for enjoying the last few parties, beach trips and barbecues of summer.

However, we lit the fire in the sitting room yesterday, it was so bloody miserable. A few weeks back I had a bit of a buying frenzy on Amazon, treating myself to some boxed sets of DVDs. I think I was subconsciously pining for the long Saturday afternoons of childhood, and bought the filmic equivalent of comfort food.

I bought:

1) The complete boxed set of Johnny Weissmuller Tarzan films,

2) The complete set of Basil Rathbone Sherlock Holmes films,

3) A boxed set of Errol Flynn films, including The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex. That's a surprisingly long film, isn't it? Mr WithaY gave up after an hour and went to the pub; I stayed till the bitter end and then rather wished I hadn't. Not exactly a feel-good film, but the costumes were lovely. And Bette Davis was brilliant.

We've been watching the Sherlock Holmes films. Marvellous. I love Nigel Bruce as Dr Watson. He's a complete buffoon, blundering about with a look of painful incomprehension on his face, asking stupid, stupid questions about the most obvious things, whipping out his service revolver at the slightest pretext to blast bullets up and down the streets of London, then every now and again solving complex pictographic codes at the drop of a hat with no apparent difficulty. Superb.

Other news: Today we have been making cake. Not just any old cake though. Mr WithaY has made the Official Christmas Cake. It weighs about 8 pounds*, and smells wonderful. He plans to keep it in his study ("where it's close at hand") and feed it with brandy for the next four months.

Sounds like the sort of lifestyle I could enjoy myself, never mind the cake.

I took photos at all stages of the construction, so once I can get my phone to upload them, I will.

Mr WithaY, who is not a man given to wasting good food, was using up some of the dried fruit and so on that we cleared out from Father-in-Law WithaY's house. Among the scavenged groceries there were a couple of tins of black treacle. More of these later.

He mixed up the ingredients for the cake, cheerfully weighing and sifting and mixing over the course of the afternoon. It became apparent that even the biggest mixing bowl was too small for the mixture, so he went out to the garage, returning in triumph with the huge copper preserving pan. He scrubbed it out, and continued mixing the cake in that.

He is nothing if not resourceful.

Anyhoo, the cake was carefully spooned into the enormous brown paper, string and cake tin construction created earlier, and then decorated lovingly with glace cherries and blanched almonds. The almonds came from Mother-in-Law WithaY's tree in her garden**.

A mere six hours later, it was ready. It is currently sitting on the side in the kitchen, exuding glory.

My contribution was much less prestigious. I made a batch of cupcakes, half with pink, lemon flavour icing and sprinkles, half with brown, coffee flavour icing and walnuts. They were very nice, thanks for asking.

I also made scones, but the least said about them, the better. I ate one, but it wasn't particularly enjoyable.

Our mates who came round for tea (hence the cakes) took one away for their chickens. If I hear a "bwaaaaaaaark...ptooooie!" from their side of the village, I will know it was not appreciated.











*I know people who have had smaller babies.

**But she does live in the South of France.

Meme! Hurrah!

As instructed by the bleach-festooned Emma at Belgian Waffle, a meme:

1. Are you a male or female: Female. A big one. So watch it.

2. Describe yourself: Tall, dark, too clever by half (in my head, anyway). Good teeth. Crap creaky twingy back. Fat arse. Over-use of foul language. Idle timewaster given half a chance.

Good singer, reasonable rhythm guitarist in the right light and if the song doesn't have too many barre chords and/or B flats (yes I am looking at you, Bryan Adams, you bastard.)

3. How do you feel about yourself: Generally fairly cheerful about myself, although deep and crashing spells of the blues have been known, sometimes even developing into full-blown depression. I had to go and see a counsellor and everything. So proud.

Usually pretty ok about physical appearance, but often fail the shop window test and recoil in shrieking horror at the glowering gorgon looking back at me. Have also done the "Ooh look at that grumpy fat middle-aged woman....oh lordy that's a mirror" thing when getting into lifts.

4. Describe your parents: Lovely lovely Mum. Tall (but not as tall as me, heh), cheerful, clever, funny, the kindest person I have ever met, an example to us all in terms of fortitude, hard work, good nature and quiet unstinting love and support. Love you Mum.

Dad was also tall (and significantly taller than me), funny, kind, honest and loved us all to bits. Died at the horribly young age of 36. I still miss him very much, and wish I had had the chance to get to know him properly.

Needed to stop typing for a bit there. Damn.


5. Describe your ex boyfriend/girlfriends: Lord, where to start. Or indeed stop.

Suffice to say there have been a lot, some gorgeous and lovely, some freakish and oiky, some intelligent, some thick as two short planks, most with motorbikes/long hair/leather jackets/rock star aspirations/other appealing features I am not prepared to detail on a blog read by my family.


6. Describe your current boy/girl situation: Happily married to the delightful Mr WithaY for the last 15 years, been together since 1987...more than half my life now. Gawd I'm old. He still makes me laugh (and not always whilst pointing).

I love him dearly. Life would be a much emptier, darker place without him.

7. Describe your current location: In my "study", surrounded by guitars, heavy metal cds, computers and bits of paper with song chords scribbled on them. Looking out of the window at the gathering dusk, watching huge trucks judder past the end of the road, making the entire house shake. Bastards.

8. Describe where you want to be: Gosh. I love being here, to be honest. Is that sad? However, would also like to be:

walking in the sand on Nauset Beach, Cape Cod,
in a posh hotel in a big city, living on room service,
in a cafe in Amsterdam, with some apple pie
on a canal boat in rural England, heading for a great pub
visiting friends somewhere sunny and not far from the beach
Shell Bay, Dorset
the Weald and Downland Open Air Museum at Singleton on a sunny late May afternoon

9. Your best friend(s) is/are: Mr WithaY. Without a doubt the best friend ever. Plus he cooks fantastic food. Result.

Also Bestest Mate, who I don't see as often as I'd like but who keeps my heart lifted with his enigmatic (and usually grumpy) text messages.

Mum and sisters, despite also being family are all people I would choose as friends.

10. Your favourite colour is: Purple. Or green. Or blue.

It depends.

I have a fab ring I bought for myself made up of about 25 different coloured sapphires, and the best thing about it is that I can twist it around to enjoy pretty much any colour I want to.

Ideal for someone who wears mostly black and grey, and likes to look at sparkly stuff whilst in meetings.


11. You know that: was not a good idea. Now pick up the pieces and don't try it again, you fool.

12. If your life was a television show what would it be called: "Hey! That's My Cupcake!" It would be a crime drama. With cakes. And banjo music chase sequences.

13. What is life to you: An opportunity to show off, eat cakes and laugh at my own jokes.

14. What is the best advice you have to give: Don't harbour regret, life is too short. Get on and do it. And if it all goes horribly wrong, learn from it.

Hot stuff

I had a pleasant surprise this morning when I weighed myself. Right up until the point where I remembered I'd had a nasty stomach upset for the best part of three days this week.

Still, I did the walk from Waterloo to Victoria on Thursday morning and it was lovely, especially as the weather had improved, and the sun was trying to shine.

In fact, at 0630 as I left the house to drive through the woods, up hill, down dale, under troll bridges and across Hobbiton, the sky was lighter in the East, and there were birds singing other than bloody owls for a change. So hurrah for that.

Mind you, when I left the office at almost six that night, it was snowing hard. Hah. However, by the time I got back to West Wiltshire it was clear, dry and much warmer. The remains of the snow shark are still in the garden, though.

Annoyingly, the local paper this week has a story about a much bigger snow shark in a local garden, but that was made by a whole team of people and it took them all day. Losers.

It also had a four page spread about The Snow, including a Snow Timeline. How useful is that, eh? I might cut it out and keep it so I can remember exactly how the Snow Chronology went, in years to come.

Other news: Today I made a Dundee cake, which looks quite nice. Also made a loaf in the breadmachine that looks like the bread Frankenstein. Not quite sure what happened, it is misshapen and wonky, but tastes fine. With Marmite, at least. And everything tastes fine with Marmite.

Whiskers on kettles

...or something.

I have nicked this from Belgian Waffle because I feel crap and want to think about nice stuff to cheer myself up.

So. Favourite things....

Clothes shop: Used to be Long Tall Sally (due to my freakish height) but I have discovered several other shops that cater to ladies of a certain stature. And therefore the winner of this category is (fanfare) Monsoon. The clothes are usually pretty, but the reason they get my vote is this. I went on a clothes shopping trip to Salisbury a while back to get some confidence-building workwear for my scary new job. I went into Monsoon and looked sadly at the rails, thinking everything would be too short/too small/tou young for me, like I do in clothes shops.

An elegant and charming assistant came up and asked me if I wanted any help. I muttered "Nurrrr...sarrite, kthnxbai" at her and continued dejectedly looking at stuff. Eventually, I picked up a pretty black top, which I thought might be ok, and went and draped scarves over it to see if I could make myself look stylish*.

She came back and said "Are you trying to find something to match that top, madam?" I said I was, so she asked me what I was looking for. I (bravely, I thought) then told her about the impending new job, lack of funky clothes, and fear of ridicule from the chic city types when I wandered through London in my trousers held up with baler twine.

She asked me what kind of clothes I was planning to wear, so I showed her my smart work trousers (I was wearing them at the time, handily), and said I usually wore black. She looked at me appraisingly, looked at the top I had in my hand, then scooted round the shop picking up a variety of tops in all kinds of colours. She put them in the changing room, told me to go and try them, and handed me a few scarves to accessorise with. It was great. I ended up buying a load of great stuff, all of which looks really nice, and felt like a new woman. When I left, she and her colleague both wished me good luck with the new job and told me I'd be fine. So. Monsoon.

Furniture Shop: Multiyork. They make magnificent sofas.

Sweet: Depends. I like Montezuma's chocolate very much but not sure if this qualifies, really. So, favourite sweet, of the sort that you can get at a petrol station, I'd say was Toblerone.

Music: Love love love AC/DC. I go through phases, and at the moment it's Tom Petty. Because I am trying hard to learn a load of his songs, I am paying a lot more attention to how he puts stuff together. It's all in the timing. And I adore his voice.

TV Series: Futurama. Bender is my hero. But am enjoying watching Scrubs which I hadn't seen before.

Film: The film I will cheerfully watch on any given rainy Sunday afternoon...hm....probably the Emma Thompson version of Sense and Sensibility. Alan Rickman. Actually, love him in Galaxy Quest too.

Workout: When I actually get my lardy arse to the gym, I like using a cross trainer. I can waddle along for ages (listening to AC/DC on my iPod) and it doesn't feel like hell on toast, even though my legs are all wobbly when I stop.

Pastries: How European. Do pies count? And sausage rolls? If so, my home-made Christmas sausage rolls are in the top 3. Otherwise it's lardy cake, closely followed by the chocolate twist thingies they sell in the coffee shop** in Fish Row in Salisbury.

Coffee: I seldom drink coffee, not having much of a taste for it. I do like Lady Grey tea though, if that helps.

There. Now you know exactly how dull I really am. Enjoy.

*No, I can't.
**Might be Costa Coffee, not sure about that.

Me and my wine

Ah, Def Leppard. Before they went a bit shite.

This morning I have been mostly baking* and having a hangover.

Our mates arrived yesterday, along with the spaniels, and we sat out in the garden catching up. Come 4 o'clock, we thought it would be rather nice to have a glass of wine, it being such a lovely summer afternoon. And that's where it all started.

We were halfway through the second bottle of white wine and ice (classy, us) when our long-lost mate Bill the Spill turned up as well. He was not up for wine, being en route elsewhere, but stayed and had a cup of tea or two and a chat, which was lovely.

We drank more wine, played Stick** with the spaniels, ate olives and breadsticks and chilled out. It was lovely. By the time supper was ready we were, to put it bluntly, shitfaced.

The four of us got through five bottles of wine, a huge mound of tasty snacks, a giant dish of Moroccan chicken, and then we went to a party over at the pub. Yay for weekends.

Other news: Work has been ridiculously busy again, but after the Big Important Meeting on Friday we might be getting some more help on the team and a deadline extension, so fingers crossed for that. If nothing else it will make the rest of the summer slightly less pressured.

Mr WithaY's dad is still in hospital, and not too good at all, unfortunately.

Ah yes, last week we were sat watching one of the seemingly endless reruns of Friends. Undemanding and sometimes amusing, and great to sit and stare at blankly when you have just got in from work and are having a nice cup of tea. I asked Mr WithaY which of the cast he thought was the star of the show.

"Well, Jennifer Aniston always gets top billing" he said.

And that would be because it's an alphabetical listing, dear.

Bless.

*Muffins, plain and chocolate chip, cup cakes, a Madeira cake. Damn I'm good.

**A challenging game of skill and dexterity, involving a stick. We throw it. They bring it back.

Cheese!

Well, the Frome Cheese Show was fab. I took pictures. In fact, I took so many pictures that I am going to do a seperate link to them. But for now, a few highlights:

There were many, many cheeses:



Hands up anyone who wants to imagine how that tent smelt by about 3pm on a hot, hot day?

Mmmm. Cheesy.

There were some fantastic, prizewinning cheeses:


Was a bit like a dairy version of Crufts, I imagine, but without the agility. Mind you, it was warm enough in there to make a few of the cheeses rather lively.

There were tractors:



This one with the windmill on it wins my "Things I don't EVER want to get stuck behind" award:



There was a hay and silage tent, which was full of very old men sniffing the sacks and looking critical. Here is a prize-winning sack:



Clearly a winner, I think you'll agree.

One of my favourite things was the pack of beagles. Aaaah. Beagles:



But the best tent of all (hence the many, many photos) was the Produce Tent. Hurrah.
There was jam:



Cakes:





I love the stern notes left on things.



These have cheese AND cake! Perfect!


Vegetables:









Things made FROM vegetables:






(How did the sheep only get fifth? He was robbed!)

Oh, so much stuff. We had a grand day.

Cups and cakes

Cups and cakes...
Oh what good things Mother makes

Aww, you know the words, join in!

Anyway....here are some cakes.



Middle Sis' fab birthday cake. And darn tasty it was too.



The frankly mental birthday cake from Friday's party. No idea how it tasted, but my, it looks fine.

Other news: A bunch of us went to a rather excellent Indian Restaurant at the weekend and had a highly convivial evening. The meal was fantastic, the service was cheerful, entertaining and prompt, and the company was marvellous.

The restaurant, for those who are interested, is called Bombay Nights, on the Bristol Road in Bath, and I can recommend it without hesitation.

We ate like kings (greedy ones) and all enjoyed a relaxed and entertaining night. And best of all, we made stuff with the chocolate wrappers:



Goblets. Faaaasands of them. And don't they look pretty?



So pretty, we had to make more.



And then display them artistically.