FINALLY!

O God from whom all wondrous blessings come, I thank you. You are amazing. You are wonderful. You have seen me in my distress and have taken pity upon me, O God my father. Bless your holy name.

We have had two days of weather in the 20s (70s Fahrenheit). It is UNBELIEVABLE!!! I love it!! God is truly an awesome God! No more 30s (90s) -- please, Lord, please.

I know there are people who love that kind of weather, the kind that we've had for the past few weeks, but I am defo not one of them, as you probably have been able to tell if you've been reading my blog lately. Every day it's been over 32 (90), I have stepped outside and immediately felt like a piece of wilted lettuce.

"I hate this weather!" I'd shout at the sky, revealing to all the world what a spoiled brat I truly am. "God, please, no more, I can't take any more!!"

Then, yesterday, I stepped outside to a blessedly cool world. I think it was 20.5 (69) degrees or so.

"Oh, sweet Lord in heaven above, thank you, thank you, thank you!!!" I cried. I took a deep breath of healing cool air, and felt at peace and refreshed for the first time since this hideous heat wave began.

Today has been the same -- lovely, lovely. It's wonderful. So wonderful I almost can't stand it -- I shall burst with happiness, I know I shall! But what a great way to go. I've been driving my oldies mad by saying happily at random, every few ticks, "I'm not hot! Isn't this INCREDIBLE? I love it!!"

OK, so I'm over-sensitive to temperature change. Whatever.

*insert yet another dramatic sigh of pure happiness here*

What a bonzer few days these have been!!! :)

things i do not like

I really hate summer.

And I REALLY hate stuffing/sealing/labelling envelopes.

There. I got that off my chest. Am I feeling better? Let me check....nope.

I really, really hate when you share your feelings, which is supposed to make you feel better, and it actually doesn't make you feel any better than before.

That didn't make sense.

I also hate not making sense.

Goodbye.

Aidez-moi!

Another day over 32 degrees! (That would be 90 for the rest of you Yanks.)

I CAN'T STAND IT ANYMORE!!!!!

That's it! I'm taking the next flight out to Alaska.

I'm still alive!!

I tried my Rout-Cakes and they were quite lovely, if I do say so myself. The taste wasn't half bad, and even the texture was decent, though I should have baked them slightly less. And, more importantly, after eating them, I'm still alive.

Mum ate several, at my urging, and agreed that they were good.

My father even tried them, and he liked them too.

And, believe it or not, they were a huge hit with my niece and nephews, who came for a visit the other day! Usually they are rather choosy in their selection of food, but they bravely sampled the cakes...then begged for more!! I couldn't believe it! My niece Hattie smiled hugely when I told her I was bringing some to our next re-enactment (THIS FRIDAY!!!!!!), my nephew Gary demolished his and said pleadingly, "I'd really like some more. Please can I have another one? Please?", and my other nephew Jerry took one bite, wrapped his piece up in a napkin, and said in a precious little sugar-laden voice, "I like this. I'm saving it!"

Later on when I gave them more, they gasped and their eyes lit up. They gobbled the Rout-Cakes as fast as ever they could, then smiled.

Wow! I think I have a hit on my hands here. No wonder Jack loved his Rout-Cakes! I love them too, and I think my family has been won over. Huzzah!!!

"You're an insect! Down!"

That was a quote delivered by the French actor Alain Delon in his 1975 version of the Zorro story. Quite nice, even if it was rather hastily slapped together and cliched. (Argh! I can't type any French accents!) But then, I have a weakness for low-budget '70s films with typical hippie music...no idea why. Maybe because I was born in the '80s and just missed all the hippie stuff. Another example -- the "Wilderness Family" series. Not exactly low-budget, but not crystal-clear high-quality film either. Still, the acting was fairly good, and I always like seeing Robert Logan and Heather Rattray act together.

But I am getting off topic, once again! I do that a lot. Why did I begin this blog with that nonsensical quote (though it does make sense, taken in context)? Because we seem to be in the middle of a plague of BUGS!!!! Especially deer flies and horse flies. They're terrible! I've never seen such ravenous, crazed insects in all my life, except in those (once again, low-budget) movies like Killer Bees and Swarm, or whatever they were called.

I went out riding the other day, on my horse Max, and when we started away from the barn and toward the trails blazed through the woods, we had to come racing back at Max's top speed to get away from the flies! The second we set hoof into the woods, the flies were there, surrounding us like a swarm of tiny thousand-eyed piranhas with wings. Farfetched simile? Of course. But the terror was real...

There were at least 40, I swear I'm not lying, 40 flies circling us within two seconds. I turned Max around and gave him his head, and he leapt back toward the barn at a full gallop. He didn't like the flies any more than I did.

Then yesterday -- no, wait, it was the day before yesterday, unlike The Day After Tomorrow -- I went out to pick blackberries. Knowing the bugs were going to be bad, I smeared on handfuls of lemon eucalyptus bug repellent, even putting some in my hair. I went out with a big plastic mixing bowl and garden gloves, but I should have put on my cowboy hat. The flies tried divebombing me, then left me alone for about a half an hour. After that, I put giant grape leaves on my head to try to keep them away. Didn't work, and I looked like a dork.

They started bothering me in earnest then, as I paused to pick a few more berries before dashing back toward the house. When a cloud of them surrounded my head, buzzing fit to intimidate a rattler, I, in rather a cowardly move, fell over onto my back and kicked my Wellie-shod feet in the air, shouting insults at them and their ancestors. These epithets are usually reserved only for spiders, so you can see that I was seriously affected at that point. Scrambling back to my feet, I grabbed my bowl, my gloves, and my waning courage and ran for the house, waving my free hand in the air over my head in a vain attempt to scare them away. (Hitting large flies with your bare hands is a sport recommended only for the stout of heart.)

But I got my berries! And this morning I hauled the bowl out of the icebox and tried to make a berry pie. It looks lovely, and I worked very hard. I can't say that it tastes all that bad either...but if only I hadn't added so much cornstarch...*sigh!* It's rather the consistency of tough jell-o.

*Note to self: And you think you can make a satisfactory Spotted Dog??? Ya barmy sheila...*

Well, perhaps with Jess's help, things will go better. I also tried to make Rout-Cakes today, per the receipt in Lobscouse and Spotted Dog. We shall see, my friends, we shall see. I'm waiting for the frosted cake to cool so I can cut it into pieces and try some. If you see another blog sometime within the next couple of weeks, that will mean that I actually did not poison myself, wonder of wonders. But no guarantees.

Mother took one look at my Rout-Cakes, raised a brow, made a disagreeable "humph" noise, and grabbed a white/dark chocolate chip bikkie instead. I guess she thought that would be safer. A moment later, however, she admitted, "Well, it does smell good..."

Simple

As you have probably gathered from what I've written thus far, I'm pretty simple. It takes very little to make me happy.

Case in point: I drove to Wegmans, that queen of all supermarkets, today to pick up some sweeties for Independence Day. As I was in the baking aisle, I saw, to my eternal delight, a small box of superfine sugar!!! I took a deep breath, grabbed it, and resisted the urge to bounce around like a 'roo and do a victory dance. (Not that kangaroos do victory dances...you know what I mean.)

Why was I so happy about superfine sugar, you ask? Well. You know, of course, that I have been reading the Aubrey/Maturin saga, yes? (What's that you say? I mention these books every blog? Nah, can't be. *goes and checks* *comes back blushing* Er, yeah, I guess I do, don't I?) Anyway, one thing that even the most casual reader of O'Brian's novels will realise is that a lot of the books revolve around food. (Jack loves food, especially all kinds of suet puddings and delicacies like soused hog's face.)

There has been a cookbook written by two lovely ladies named Anne Chotzinoff Grossman and Lisa Grossman Thomas, a mother-daughter team. They are fans of the A/M saga and have researched almost every single food item written about in the books. I recently borrowed the cookbook from the library (that's just until I can buy one of my own) and am quite determined to try some of the receipts mentioned therein.

My friend Jess and I have agreed that we shall endeavour to try them together, and will thus be poisoned and die together...and if we are not poisoned, we will die from eating too much suet pudding. But at least we will find out how to make the kind of food that Jack loves.

Superfine sugar is featured in quite a few of the receipts, though I can't for the life of me figure out how they would have gotten superfine sugar. I thought that at this point in history they were still using sugar nippers to cut off what they needed from sugar cones wrapped in indigo paper. (Of course, they would use the sugar nippers AFTER they unwrapped the sugar cone from its indigo paper. One does not eat indigo paper, no matter how strong one's constitution.) Ah well, I'm not about to argue with the ladies who have written the cookbook.

Still and all, it makes you wonder, n'est ce pas? Why am I so easily pleased and entertained?