A topical phrase allegedly spoken by the French queen.  Topical as this week I’ve been making and baking and watching the Paris Olympics on tv.  Not the best combination for some of the sunniest and hottest days of this year, although when a friend of some 20 (or more) years is about to be forty, it’s a pleasure.  Well, it was when I saw the look on her face yesterday, although behind the scenes there had been tears!

A tried and tested recipe, beautifully crafted hydrangea flowers and a handful of seashells all made in advance, and a brand-new oven, what could possible go wrong?  With lots of time on my hands, and a detailed plan, I was going for a personal best.  Just one surprise knocked me off balance.  We exchanged contracts on Mum’s apartment last week (curiously on the anniversary of her toddling off to see my Dad) and there was a bit of a rush needed to sort through those remaining items of interest.

Meticulous planning and a need for delicious moist lemon cake meant cake in the oven at 1:30 pm, clear up kitchen chaos and quick shower to avoid smelling of butter (yuck) all by 2:40 pm, then leave to meet my brother at Mum’s by 3:00 pm.  All good so far, except that at 2:45 pm I was in tears, and not out of joy.  The cake had sunk and so had my spirits. 

No time to wallow, we got to Mum’s to find my brother and sister-in-law following Stacey Solomon’s guide to sorting out.  Did I want the sixty something year old felted needle case I’d made and embroidered with Mummy?  Not really but could I throw it out?  I closed my eyes and handed it over (but then I retrieved it and put it back again … gone forever).

We checked cushions for cash before adding to the charity pile and found funny little “notes to self” in books.  A fitting end to an era found all four of us squatting in the hallway with diet cokes and M&S Cherry Bakewells.  The moral of this tale being remember that the final “sort out” takes longer than you think, and humour spurs you on. 

Leaving a bed and a tv in Dad’s car parking space, next to a bag of bits (for bulky waste collection the next day) conjured up an image of someone too tired to make it home.  Instead, they chose the car park; sitting on the bed wearing Mum’s clothes watching tv and waiting for the microwave to ding.  I’m pleased that we laughed about this scenario as the items are still there.  A triumph for technology over humans; the booking was made and confirmed online, text messages updated me throughout yesterday, yet the physical collection was missed.

A little like “Groundhog Day” yesterday was also baking (remaking) day.  I triple checked ingredients and weights; was exact with teaspoons and fluid measures.  A larger baking tin and a slightly different oven setting plus a huge dollop of good fortune meant I’d at least made it to bronze position.  Slicing cold but not really cold luscious lemon cake (thank you Mitch Turner) would have meant silver but it was a step too far and the lemon curd is still on the worktop.

Undeterred I arranged the sugar paste driftwood around the sides of the cake and decorated the top with seashells and flowers; plunging them into dreamy lemon buttercream.  My design gave me joy and as I’d intended looked like a slightly old-fashioned take on botanicals.  A fitting gift for our talented garden designer.  I’m pleased that she is pleased, and fingers crossed, the cake tastes as good as it looked yesterday.  Happy Birthday Jenna.  And we’re very much looking forward to your third masterpiece, but maybe not a sunken garden.

Overall, it’s been quite a week.  A dress rehearsal for one more cake this month (my niece’s 30th birthday) then a wedding cake in early September for another friend.  Yes, my baking hobby is rewarding if a little challenging at times and my sunken cake is a stark reminder that not everything goes to plan all of the time!  Whether you need help finding a new role, you’re interested in baking, have a home to sort out and don’t know where to begin or simply fancy a chat, Let’s talk.