I am absolutely cream-crackered. Tuckered out. Exhausted. Weary eyelids-propped-up-with-matchsticks tired. You could, should the mood take you, assault me in safety – I feel that poking me with a sharp stick would elicit a bare twitch in response. You would have complete (albeit… transient) impunity from reprisals. Currently, I can barely lever myself out of the chair. (Hubby, upon reading this, will brighten like the sun, because I have A) mentioned poking, and B) de facto, told him I am unable to fight him off tonight.) Bugger me, I’ve been busy. I have even been too busy to access the net – which has been fortuitous, because our wifi has been on the intermittent blink. I have Missed You All Terribly. It’s been nearly two whole days!

The result of all this frenzied busy-ness has been a clean house (downstairs, at any rate… and I simply cannot describe, and am too embarrassed to photo-illustrate, how revoltingly crud-crusted it was previously) and a house full of cake. My oven was going like a furnace yesterday; by the time today’s charity coffee morning rolled around – I couldn’t even look a slice of sodding cake in the eye. Perchance that was because I was on my knees with fatigue, but more likely because I’d licked the insides of SO GODDAMMED MANY cake bowls yesterday, that even my capacity for saturated fat had been breached. I was full to the brim (I have a wide brim, people) of butter, caster sugar, eggs and self-raising flour.




There will be those of you who recognise the (losing) washing-line and crib cake on the left. It has sat forlornly in a tupperware box since early September. I brought it out today for adulation (balm, wounds, etc) before giving it to my FIL, who will thoroughly appreciate the 3 solid inches of marzipan – although not so much the tiny burnt biscuit cake which it surrounds. I was going to make another washing-line affair for the Bliss cake, but ran out of time. Hence the random scattering of small items-in-icing-with-holes in.


By lunchtime, I had recovered my naturally greedy disposition sufficiently to sample a bit of the coconut & lime cake that I had never made before; I am now listlessly – because lifting hand to mouth takes effort, yes? – nibbling my second flapjack.

Hubby and Harry worked rather less hard, and ate rather more cake.

Yes, the fist grasping the coffee wedge is Hubby’s.





The pair of gluttons have voraciously consumed so much sugar today that they are now totally wired


and want to go out clubbing. Or something.

I’m going to soak in the bath now, and then, fireworks or not, I am going to sleep. Thanks in great part to my dear old Dad’s sublime raffle-ticketing skills, there is now a pot with £278 quid in it – with a promise of some more to trickle in next week.

I shall sleep happy. T’was worth it.


16 Responses

  1. Idiot! You not only mentioned that you were unable to fight off any gentlemanly advances tonight but positively invited him to bugger you. There’s no reneging on that promise now!

    Cakes look lovely. Well done

  2. I’ve had worse!

  3. Well done you and congrats on Cake Akimbo! And there’s always tommorrow to recover from exhaustion and eat more cake.

  4. That is one hell of a lot of cakes – you always impress me with your baking skills!

    Welcome back – I hope you had a good sleep!

  5. Your kitchen is where I would like to go to die. Well, assuming the cakes are without marzipan. That shit is not fit for human consumption. Sorry FIL.

  6. Oh my oh my.

    That is one awful lot of cake. Colour me tres impressed, I am the sort why buys them, not bakes em 🙂

    Have fun tonight 😉


  7. Oh my word…I will take one slice of EVEYTHING please. And I will go clubbing with Harry and Hairy Husband afterward when I’m not being horribly sick because of my deep gluttony. Oh man, your kitchen looks TASTY.

    Speaking of TASTY, Harry is adorable! Let him eat cake! You know, that is a pleasant way to have him both gain weight and view you as the Supreme Goddess. Feed him cake with every meal.

    PS~ How do you do that bit with the washline and the marzipan? I have been curious since I first started reading your blog. I’d like to give it a whirl myself one day.

  8. *Applause* Great looking spread there. I do have some meagre understanding of your state of knackeredness as in a moment of total insanity a couple of years ago, I offered to make afternoon tea for the Old Boys School Cricket Team. Whereby one nameless team scores the excellence of the afternoon teas on their website. Cue my extreme competitive gene. So here I am, cursing my stupidity on ten separate Saturday mornings between October and February, caking, scone-ing, sandwiching, quiching ad infinitum to see it all destroyed by 44 strapping cricketers in…ooohhh, about 15 minutes.

    I’m going to make that coconut and lime cake next week. That had better get me ten points on the website.

  9. Oh wow. Oh look at all that FABULOUS CAKE. That’s it. I’m kidnapping you after all.

    Also Harry looks so damn cute I very nearly licked the screen.

    Umm. That came out a little creepy. I promise not to lick Harry ever.

  10. I’m so impressed. Let me know if you’re up for a bake-off any time. I can’t touch you on the decorations, but my baking is pretty good, when oven isn’t playing off too much.

  11. Playing UP. Up.

    sorry. was thinking next thought while still typing. Not a good idea.

    Congrats on the fund raising. It’s such a worthy cause (and how did you do the writing?)

  12. yummmm, I now want lots and lots of cake. Especially the coconut and lime, that sounds divine!

  13. omg. I’m starving. Tell me how we can make cakes like that as LOW CARB. Cake>sex.

  14. Mmmmmm…cake……you’re making me have a Homer Simpson moment. Cakes look divine, as does Harry. Well done on the fund raising!

  15. Sweet. Jesus.

    I think I went into diabetic shock just looking at the photos. And I’m not even diabetic. You, you are Wonder Woman, and your gold bustier is made out of marzipan (so stay out of the sun).

    Well done, babe.

    As an aside, the photo of Harry eating out of his bowl on the floor? That has all the makings of “Mommy Dearest”. I told you, young man, touch the grown-up cake again and you’ll be eating like a dog until you grow mustache hair! And no wire hangers!

    But that photo of him riding the Dad-pony shows he was forgiven, and possibly given more cake.

  16. […] 2008, the sun shone, I made cakes, kind people came, John ate lots of coffee & walnut […]

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