Stinky Sunday

Apologies for the lack of updates in recent days. This week has been frantic. It has been half term for the boys, and they have both had birthdays this week, which has resulted in a house full of other people's kids, plus marathon amounts of cooking, present buying/wrapping and generally picking up after them all week. Why is it that males make so much mess?

My middle son is deeply enthusiastic about cooking. I am not allowed to bake cakes without him, and I get interrogated on a daily basis by a small boy sniffing around to check I haven’t been cooking without him. Yesterday evening I finally escaped to the studio and had a quiet moment during which I thought I’d write a blog entry. Unfortunately I only had about ten minutes of peace and quiet, which was suddenly and abruptly shattered by Richard exploding through the studio door yelling, “Take the baby and get out of the house! NOW!!!”
Boggling somewhat, I grabbed my hysterical daughter, ignoring the searing pain in my side (not supposed to be lifting for another month yet), and galloped out of the house, simultaneously noting the vast plumes of smoke now emanating from the kitchen. I was joined quickly by two weepy and terrified boys who were also evacuating the premises at high speed.

It turned out that my dear son had decided to hone his cooking skills by heating up his supper (what was once-upon-a-time apple pie and custard) in the microwave, but instead of setting the timer for 30 seconds, he set it for 30 minutes, and then promptly forgot about it and went back to his computer game. Thirteen minutes later, my oldest son innocently enquired “Did someone burn the toast?”

The result? Complete panic, smoke, fire, weepy children, hysterical angry wife with PMT, heroic but mildly panicked father (renowned for his fire-fighting skills on several previous occasions), and no real harm dome other than a ruined bowl (my best china, mind you, as my son only uses the best), a terminal microwave and an extremely stinky house.

That was yesterday.

I have spent all of today trying to get the carbonated smell out of the house. I Googled extensively, and tried everything, from cleaning fluids, air fresheners, disinfectant, heating lemons and coffee (not together) but nothing worked, so I gave up. This afternoon, I decided to have a massive baking session, and so 40 cakes and one giant Mississippi-mud-pie later (I don’t do small portions – think “Izzie” from Greys Anatomy), the house finally smelled of freshly baked cakes, rather than burnt custard.

Now all I’ve got to do is find someone to eat the cakes.

Cake party anyone?



Chocolate cake and Claire Louisa. What more could you ask for?