A Bit of R&D (All in the name of my little busy-ness)


” But still I am not satisfied! I know full well my tummy’s bulging, But oh, how I adore indulging.” Yet again a quote from ‘s Roald Dahl’s Revolting Rhymes . This one by the wolf, after he had eaten pig number 2 in ‘Little Red Riding Hood.”

The above holds relevance as I lick another spoonful of cream cheese icing from my secret stash in the the little bowl concealed at the back of the fridge – behind the mulberry jam, but in front of the long-forgotten liverspread.

I have had a hectic week, followed by a relatively active weekend (yup – applied make-up 3 days in a row!) – baking, beading and going for job interviews? Like a busy little bee.

The baking started with me delivering complimentary red velvet cupcakes to a select few at various institutions in the dorp. Let’s call it Marketing, as I had the common sense to attach a business card and smile ever so sweetly. I must say they were actually quite delicious, and I thought they looked stunning. Until S told me some of the ones with the pink hearts on looked like vaginas?!? WTF? I think that is saying a lot about what he is not getting here at home. Let’s say he is pre-occupied with the unattainable. I, on the other hand, am pre-occupied with baking, blogging and now beading (but, sorry, not so much bonking?)

This week also involved a job interview – yes, things are really that taait in my part of the world – that had me locked (by mistake due to faulty mechanism) in the boardroom with the interviewer, his 2-i-c, 12 chairs and a laptop that was hooked up and all ready for me to perform the little ‘proficiency test’ (no pressure, OK? Just to see if you can send a mail, that sort of thing?) Afterwards, I had such interviewee’s remorse, I almost deployed the airbag in the car’s dash as I bashed my fist up and down on the vinyl in what can only be described as utter and pure embarrassment for what may have spewed out my orifaces during the appointment.

But back to baking…set out on a little R&D (more rescue & devour than research & development) mission in the city. Managed to get my hands on a mouth on a few very fine specimens, which involved chocolate, mousse, curd, strawberries and other various delectable ingredients. It was tough, but I managed to get 4 down my gullet. It’s a tough, but very neccessary duty, if I am to establish a cupcake business that will rival the best in the business.

Briefly, I had a beading bonanza this weekend – welding 2 pairs of pliers at once, applying epoxy in blobs and blinging everything with rhinestones. Eventually ran out of supplies.

I think I am entering my annual ‘mania phase’. And seems my favourite letter is B. Baking, blogging, buying, beading, super-bubbly (a bit artificial and pretentious, if I say so myself. (What rhymes with bi?) Really don’t need to sleep – only go to bed ‘cos it is the socially correct thing to do. And this with a pill (A waste of Discovery’s chronic benefits). But rather up than down.

Bean bag smells like barley – a real turn on. Especially this weekend past, as S and I celebrated 16 years of wedded bliss – Happy Anniversary, Babes!

P.S. For those of you that may be interested – There is a place in the Main Street of Knysna where you can get vajazzled. And they advertise. Yes,seriously. (See pic of my blinged up red velvet koek attached somewhere to this mail – not sure, yet, how exactly the attaching of photo’s to the post works?)

Cupcakes and Chardonnay


Image

“….An early morning stroll

is good for people on the whole.

It makes your appetite improve.

It also helps your bowels to move.” Roald Dahl’s Revolting Rhymes – Goldilocks and the 3 bears.

But I digress …

Last night we were invited to a good ol’ SA bring ‘n braai in celebration of our friend, C’s birthday. Nothing too big or extravagent, although I did notice that her Biggie Best jug was out on the table, and we were treated to chip AND dip! Everything was lovely, the conversation was intelligent and mature (from my side, to start with) and we only crept out of there after midnight. The chops were nicely sizzled, the slald had zest, if one goes according to the number of times a cherry tomato jumped off A’s plate and the choc sauce was yet again good enough to lick off the side of the jug. But eager to prove that I was finally able to handle my drink, I had to insist that a bottle of Chardonnay was packed into the pick ‘n pay packet, along with the cream soda. It all started off innocently enough … small wine glass, with plenty of ice – and me discussing the current trend of yarn-bombing with the GM of SA M@#$#R. (Yes, we actually do have people of that calibre residing in our town!) By glass two, ice was not in the mix, I was still trying to thread the boerie down my throat and my mental health had become part of the conversation? In the meantime, pudding was adored by all, C’s Choc Sauce was worth sipping out a beer mug with a straw, and I must say that Black Forest cupcakes were not too bad, although falling apart as a result of all the Kirch I had drizzled so liberally on them. OK – back to the chardonnay (or troll’s toilet water, for that matter – as if I could tell the difference). With Adele setting fire to the rain in the backround and the other adults politely having tea, I gunned for the finish and set about syping the last 1/3 of the bottle. At thish sshtage, I knew I wash just the life of thish gathering. And out came the ‘puking-down-Cape-Rd shtory (A whole other drama), how I hated my shrink, the in’s and out’s of medical lighting and how unfocussed I wash. To C’s credit, she shat by my shide and cheered me on, and shoaked it all up (along with all the people who stay in a 1km radius of their house). By the time the clock struck 12, I was hoarse and if the dog had not farted, I would have gone on for another good hour. Adele had given up (and so had the husband). And home we went. Happy Birthday, C! And remember that the apron is for the kitchen and not the bedroom.

Thanks, Supa-Nina, Supa-Artist, Supa-Mom.


Good for you!

I can totally relate to being an unruly mom on the sidelines!

Easy to tut tut when others are making fools of themselves till it’s your son out there!

Have fun!

 

Nina McDonough
The Loft Studio cc
T/A EASTCAPE LINK

 

072 188 1454
041 368 5257
Fax-2-email: 086 529 2996

 

22 years experience in print media.
Eastcape Link’s many publications over this period include:
Grahamstown, Kenton, Port Alfred & Jeffreys Bay Visitor’s Guides.
PE Map – Bargain Hunter’s Guide 2011, North End 2012, Walmer 2012

Well, I am mortified.


“If you’re crazy and you know it, flap your hands.”

My commin side came out yesterday … next to the rugby field … and I am absolutely mortified … with myself. It started innocently enough, with me lounging on a bench (donated by the Gr 7’s of 2005) next to the field. I usually sit quietly by at these sort of occasions, observing the yummy-mummys (all gucci-ed, coiffed and lipstick-ed), their perfect offspring (A average, 5 sports, volunteering at Animal rescue) and the absurdly successful dad’s (the ones who sponsor the rugby kit), while S stands with his fists clenched in his pockets, chomping at the bit and willing poor ol’ J to get aggro and score a try or gouge an eye out or something!

I was busy filing my nails as the touring side (some preppy school from the UK) scored a try about 30 seconds into the game. So I packed the emery board away and thought, OK – this should be interesting … And it was all dowhill from there. By half-time I was standing on the field and hollering and coaching and I must confess there was some gnashing of teeth and jumping up and down (yes, my feet actually left the ground, together, for a split second. Talk about a gravity-defying event.) I admit I may have let a few fist-pumps go and S warned me that if I carried on like that, I would be collecting my tonsils on the 5 yard line.

I was cursing a bunch of 13- year olds and sending them to hell and back? At this stage S had left my side and I noticed him cowering behind the tree about 50m down the sideline. My actions were not polite and socially acceptable. The screeching left me in dire need of a soothing throat lozenge. In retrospect, it may be a good thing that I do not actually reside in Port Elizabeth.

I noticed Tibbs (his head is basically up my son’s ass in the scrum) punching J in the kidneys and slapping his thighs and threatening him with all sorts of encouragement as they did the whole touch-pause-engage thing, and I am embarassed to say that I screamed for this kid to hit my son harder? Maybe not such a good idea, since this kid is half J’s size. But, you see, J is a gentle giant and it takes quite a bit to get him steaming and snorting. Only his sister has the ability to instantly get his goat up – no one else, it seems. Not even his crazy mommy gesticulating, vloeking and prancing in his line of sight, in front of his peers and the headmaster.

Alas, my Oscar performance (Jeez, where is Charlize Theron’s talent scout when you need him?) aside, J’s side lost and there were a bunch of pommies high-fiving each other on the side. Naturally, I left in a huff and had the whole way back to J-Bay to regret my uncouth behaviour and over-analyze the game. On the plus side – my knowledge of the game of rugby has improved in leaps and bounds in the last few months, and I am quite positive that I could lead the Blue Cheetahs to a victory, if given the chance. However, it has been noted by those around me that I will have to work on my field manners, BMT, sportsmanship and supporter’s etiquette.

Everything’s Rosi!


‘When you swim in the creek and an eel bites your cheek, that’s a Moray…’

I have taken the bold step to blog, mainly because everyone said I should. So look forward to ramblings about the general stuff that goes on in my life. Most of it is quite banal, but I am assuming that it will blow someone’s hair to one side. You will come to realise that I am not a PTA mommy, I don’t do anything at superspeed and am currently trying to figure out what it is I need to be doing  as I almost clock 40. I am not in charge and have quite a few regrets. And I will say it – I do feel that some people are more blessed than me, and jealousy has made me ugly on a few occassions.

I have been to the motivational talks, but must confess that at this stage of my life I just want to wallow in it. I have heard it all but somehow I am still waiting for it to sink in. I am desperately trying to find something that I love to do, and that will bring in the bucks. But seems creativity and being flush do not go hand in hand? Hence the repeated attempts at re-entering the corporate market.

I also love to shop for baking accessories and 2-ply loo rolls on special. Shoes and Woolworths can be overrated. I watch too much TV (especially the American dribble) and do not exercise. I love at least 4 sugars and syrup on my Taystee Wheat. Maybe there will be a divine intervention and these weaknesses shall be overcome, but I highly doubt this occurrance in the next 2 weeks.

Choccywoccydoodah – Damn, wish I had thought of that name!