“He kneaded and punched it and pounded and pulled… till it looked ok.”

In our family we have a game where we quote from a children’s story, and then the others have to guess where the quote comes from. I’ve given it away here of course, with the picture from Sendak’s Night Kitchen – but perhaps I should play it with you lot, and you can try to guess the quote too. Family members excluded, and try not to google.

Anyway, like Mickey, I’ve been baking. Today I’ve made chocolate chip cookies, using Sophie Gray’s wonderful recipe, and then two birthday cakes. Two, because they are supposed to be gluten free, and egg and dairy free, and unsurprisingly, the first one was less than perfect. (Understatement.)  To be fair, I took the egg out. The second one, from here, looks like it is much better.

I won’t bore you with why I’m taking all the good stuff out of the baking today – suffice to say that the charming sister, whose birthday it is, is wheat free, and I am  free of dairy and eggs for the time being. So the baking has been adventurous. Baking is a regular feature around here, mainly because it helps keep hungry tummies at bay, and lunchboxes full. My kids are ALWAYS hungry. Master 3 in particular could happily eat all the live-long day if I let him. My life is one long cooking fiesta, what with the dinners and the lunches and the baking and the meal plans. This is not fun, but it is required.

So this afternoon Master 6 is off at a birthday party, and Master 3 has been down in the village with his dad, while Master 0 has slept. It has been a good time to bake.  In a little while we are off to celebrate the sisterly birthday at the homestead. I bought her this. There will be loud crazy chaos, and that’s just my kids. Then I’m staying on with the young folk for a little while, and having a glass of wine, or two. I plan on staying at least long enough for the husband to get the big kids asleep before I return home. Missing out on kid-bedtime is my very favourite thing.

Then tomorrow will be full of  more things. There is an end of term mass and subsequent picnic thing for Master 6’s school – families are required to attend. I pretty much hate attending stuff on Sunday afternoons at 4.30pm, but there you are. Not to mention the making of picnic food. Sigh. But then I’m a killjoy. Luckily I am off out in the morning to have cups of tea with a friend, which makes life all the more pleasant. We will sit about and coo at the baby and laugh at the world. Perfect.

See you on the stairs,

Cath

Oh yes, the quote. Here’s an easy one: “Some stories are true, and some aren’t.” I trust you not to google.