Though I say so myself as shouldn't (as my dear Mum would doubtless chide me) I don't give up easily.
When things go wrong, or don't turn out as intended, I may huff and
puff a bit. Okay, you're right, I may huff and puff rather a lot. But then my modus operandi (not for nothing was I a Latin scholar in my distant youth) is always to find a way round whatever difficulty has beset me. Usually I find that Where There's A Will,
There's A Way.
Take today, for example, and the story of my cupcakes, a 9 volt Duracell battery, assorted sprinkles and an Occasional Daisy. A little background information first: tomorrow my friend, the lovely
Sue, is organising a Coffee Morning in aid of the Children's Society. You will be interested to know (though possibly not) that this Sue is neither Sue 1 nor Sue 2, my fellow choir members. This is a Completely Different Sue though, obviously, every bit as
special. I have belatedly offered help with the Coffee Morning though, having not been able to attend the planning meeting on account of it being held in the evening and not liking to leave Mr B Home Alone in the evenings, I haven't been allocated a specific
job to do. Experience tells me that this will mean I will turn up at 9.30 a.m. as promised and get in everybody's way as they hustle and bustle about doing what they have been asked to do.
I have pinned an
A4 poster on my garden gate where I hope it will attract the attention of passers-by. While standing at the kitchen sink, washing up the dishes, I keep a sharp eye out for anyone who might just stop to read the poster: "How interesting!" they will say to themselves,
"We must call in and have a coffee. It is, after all, for such a Very Good Cause." No, it is true I have no proof that the poster has had the required effect but one never knows.
I also decided to make two
dozen cupcakes for sale at the Coffee Morning. That way, even if I do turn out to be Surplus To Requirements on the day, I will have made a contribution. And an eatable one at that.
Which is when everything
started to go wrong. I meant to spend a happy afternoon in the kitchen but Mr B wanted me to sit down with him to watch a programme about a multi-starred hotel in Knightsbridge, after which I found myself engaged in a number of enjoyable phone calls. It was
getting on for dinner time before I checked the larder. No soft margarine!
Not a disaster, I tell myself. Am I not under instructions to fetch Mr B a tasty boneless banquet from KFC? Is there not a Sainsbury's
Local right next door? Problem solved without so much as a huff. Nor even a puff, for that matter.
Much later, after dinner, I return to the kitchen and carefully weigh out the flour and sieve it into the
mixing bowl, holding my sieve high above the bowl, as instructed by the Divine Delia and so spraying every surface with a fine sprinkling of the White Stuff. Packet of caster sugar in hand, I am about to measure it out (note to self: may need to make up the
required weight with ordinary sugar but surely it won't make too much difference?) when the display on my electronic scales commands me: "Change battery!"
Noooo! Not now! Not when I am in the middle of my
Great Coffee Morning Bake-off! I fiddle about with the back of the scales to find the compartment where the (dead) battery is housed. I can't imagine I will find a 9 volt battery to replace it but I search in the kitchen drawer where such useful objects are
housed. Amazingly I find two 9 volt batteries but both are dated best before November 2013. I try them anyway - hope springs eternal, don't you know - but neither works. I am at a loss - until, tucked at the back of the drawer I find yet another battery. Best
before March 2018, it says on the side. I cross every finger as I fit it into the battery compartment. It takes some doing, fitting a battery with your fingers crossed...
The scales are back doing what they
do best, as in, weighing ingredients. That should have been the end of my troubles. The cakes cook beautifully. I have a tub of vanilla icing which I'd bought to decorate The Rascal's birthday cake before I decided to make a yellow dinosaur. As you do.
I was as sure as sure could be that I had all kinds of cake decorations left over from Cakes I Have Made. When I come to search through the larder once again, however, I can only find three large chocolate stars (two
white chocolate, one milk chocolate), three wafer daisies (one pink, two white), a few chocolate hearts and half a dozen candy butterflies. Well, I do my best - and tomorrow I will deliver 22 more-or-less - but mostly less - decorated cupcakes to the Coffee
Morning. I might, if I'm lucky, be able to slip them onto the cake stall without anyone noticing where they came from.
Twenty-two? I hear you query. Shouldn't there be a round two dozen? Ah, but that was before
Quality Control, you see.
Also known as Mr B...