Mamalade

Deck the Halls with Furry Bundles
Tra la la la la
la la la la…

olliehang

Sorry, can’t stop to chat. Christmas is coming!  Hope you have a wonderful Christmas.I’m taking a few weeks off. See you about the end of January.

Well, we sold all my cakes and biscuits on the stall – for a realistic $2 a pack rather than $72! The stall was a great success. We also had a Books & Bric-a-Brac Sale in the hall at the same time, as we had enough helpers to man both. I spent the morning alternating between both places. Altogether, we raised about $1000 for the Fistula Hospital, so it was all worthwhile.

Seeing clearly

I got new glasses this week. Two sets – one for reading and one for long distance. I usually only wear glasses for reading, but I can see more comfortably with the new long distance glasses, so I’m starting to wear them sometimes.

I wore them shopping the first day and met a friend in the Supermarket. “How do you like my new glasses?” I asked her.

“I thought you looked different,” she said. “Let’s try them on!”

She squinted through them at the packets on the shelves and promptly handed them back.

“They look the same as my old reading glasses,” I said. “You’ve seen me in them.”

“No, these are different,” she said. “They’re a different shape.”

“They’re exactly the same!” I said, producing my old reading glasses.

She studied them both for a while, then her face brightened.

“I know what it is!” She said. “They’re cleaner!”

I sat on the seat outside the bank waiting for Mum. I was idly watching people passing by or queuing up at the ATM. Everything did look a bit clearer through my new glasses. I closed my left eye, checking the vision in my right eye, which is slightly weaker. I could see clearly with it. I closed my right eye to check the left one – then I realised a man waiting at the ATM was watching me with a strange expression on his face. He must have thought I was winking at him!

I beat a hasty retreat around the corner.

Never again!

I know I said it last time, and the time before, and the time before that – this time I really mean it!

It always happens a week or so before our World Vision Club has a street stall, which is several times a year. I get this sudden urge to start baking. It would probably be OK if I just made a batch of cakes or biscuits, then stopped. But with my talent for messing up the whole kitchen (sometimes it spreads through the house) I always think, why make this mess for just one batch? So I triple the recipe.

Now, one triple batch might be alright if I could only stop there. But then I always think (mistakenly) that I can cope with another triple batch.

These acts of madness usually take place at night, after dinner, in the belief that I can fall into bed when I’m finished and recover with a good night’s sleep. Believe me, it takes longer than that!

This time I started with little sultana cupcakes. It’s a favourite recipe and they’re very tasty. Nothing much to go wrong there, you’d think. I beat up triple quantities of butter and sugar, added eggs, etc…Uh, oh! What if there’s not enough self-raising flour? I should have checked.

Phew! What a relief, the flour container was full. I lifted the lid. Awk! It was full of tiny black specks. Weevils! It happens easily in our sub tropical climate. The container couldn’t have been airtight.

A desperate search through the cupboard produced another unopened pack of flour. Good, no weavils! I measured out one cup of flour, then another…was that two cups or three? I’m still not sure. I only know they didn’t rise as they should. The tops of the cakes spread out over the muffin pan and stuck tight.

Well, about half of them came out intact when they were cooked, but the rest disintegrated into crumbs.

Never mind, I still felt I could do a bit more. How about a triple batch of Anzac biscuits? Everyone’s favourite and they’re foolproof – almost!

Oats, flour, coconut…I was really getting into this baking business! I mixed in the butter and syrup, rubbing it in with my hands, dripping bits all over the bench, on the floor and plastering the tap when I washed it off my hands. The mixture was ready to go on the biscuit trays. I tasted a bit.

Yuk! I’d left out the sugar! Now I had to somehow add three cups of sugar to the stiff mixture. I worked in the first cup. The mixture felt gritty. Maybe if I just moistened the second cup of sugar with a little bit of hot water. And the third…

The mixture was sticky now. I added more flour, rolled the dough into balls and flattened them on the tray. My back was aching and I was feeling light headed, which is precisely why in my saner moments I know I should never attempt a second triple batch.

I pulled the kitchen stool over to the bench, managing to place one leg of it in the cats dish and spilling the contents on the floor.

I was running out of bench space. I placed one tray of uncooked Anzacs on the stool, while I put three more trays into the oven.

Phew, I was tired! I sat down wearily on the stool – in the tray of sticky Anzacs!

By the time the last tray was in the oven, I felt I just had to sit for a while and recover in front of the TV…

When I dragged myself back, a few on the side were a bit burnt, but most could be salvaged. I was too tired to start washing up so I went back and sat down while they cooled.

Couldn’t think what day it was for a moment – I must have dozed off. Oh yes, the Anzacs…

They were cool. But they weren’t crisp. They looked rather soggy. Must have used too much water. I reheated the oven and put them back in, then I tackled the huge pile of washing up.

The mixing bowl slipped out of my hands and fell onto the cat’s dish, smashing it to smithereens. Oh, well, one less dish to wash!

I put the little sultana cakes into plastic snap lock bags and piled them up on the end of the bench. The Anzacs looked crisp now – maybe a little too crisp. I took the first tray out of the oven and placed it on the bench – oops! Too close to the plastic bags. Now the bags were melted and stuck onto the tray.

It was well after midnight by the time I had everything cleaned up and the cooking in snaplock bags. Leaving out the two bags of crumbs, two bags of burnt sultana cakes, and three bags of burnt Anzacs, we should be able to get about $30 for the rest. It would have been much simpler to donate $30….

Unless I could charge the same rates as the E.N.T. specialist that I saw last week. Lets see… $90 for 15 minutes…that would be 4 hours at $360 an hour = $1440.

That’s $72 per pack of 8 Anzacs – or $9 each!

Prospective customers can visit our stall next week!

These are foolproof – well almost. I usually triple the recipe and make lots. This is not a good idea if you have trouble remembering how many cups you’ve just put in.

• 1 cup plain flour
• 1 cup rolled oats
• 1 cup sugar (3/4 cup if you prefer them less sweet)
• 3/4 cup dessicated coconut
• 2 tablespoons golden syrup
• 125 (4oz) butter or margarine
• 1 1/2 teaspoons bicarbonate soda
• 2 tablespoons boiling water

Mix together flour, oats, sugar and coconut. Melt the syrup and butter over gentle heat. Dissolve the bicarb. soda in the boiling water, stir into syrup mixture and pour over dry ingredients.

Mix in well. (You’ll have to get your hands into it. Don’t be squeamish – just get into it and hope the phone does’t ring!)

Put globs of the mixture onto greased oven trays. Bake in a moderate oven for about 20 mins.

Sometimes I use honey instead of syrup and flavour them with almond essence. Very nice.

Thought I’d better start baking for our street stall. This is really a Sultana Bar recipe, but I usually put it in muffin pans & make little cakes. They are very tasty.

• 3 oz (85g) butter
• 4 oz (113g) castor sugar
• pinch salt
• 1 egg
• 2 teaspoons finely grated lemon rind
• 1/4 cup milk (50ml)
• 5 oz (142g) self raising flour
• 4 oz (113g) sultanas

Cream butter and sugar, add salt and lemon rind, add egg. Beat well.
Sift flour over sultanas (I don’t bother, just plunk them in!) Add milk alternately to creamed mixture with dry ingredients. blend well.

Place mixture in greased and flour-dusted bar cake tin, or divided into muffin trays for small cakes.
Bake in moderate oven 350 degrees till done. (before mixture turns black.)

They freeze well. I like them best when they’ve been in the freezer and are still cold and crunchy.

Our Toastmasters Club is conducting an 8-week Speech Craft course. It’s good to see how the participants are developing their speaking skills after only a few weeks. Most of them have already presented their second speech. Of course it means I haven’t had time to update my Newsletter lately, as I’ve been involved in helping with the course.

The local Primary school is allowing us to hold the Speech Craft course in their music room. The first night, there were no outside lights. It was a very dark route from the front gate to the music room. I met each one at the gate and escorted them in by torchlight. Going to the toilet during the break was even worse. We had to walk some distance down a long passage and a couple of flights of stairs. Definitely not a trip to be taken alone! While we were in the toilet, the torch went out. The battery was flat.

The outside lighting has since been rectified, but it’s still an eerie trip to the toilets and one better made in company.

Our regular meetings continue to be very lively. Last week we had an Interpretive Reading contest, which proved to be so popular, we had trouble finding enough people to perform the roles of Toastmaster, timer, etc, because nearly everyone was in the contest! By coincidence, everyone had chosen to read from an Australian author. I read a passage from Ruth Park’s “Poor Man’s Orange” – one of my favourites!

We all signed a “Get Well” card for one of our members, who has just had an operation. The card was passed round the table during the meeting and had reached my place by the refreshment break. I didn’t realise it was the open card in front of me and used it as a coaster for my teacup. It left a brown ring on the inside of the card.

“Never mind,” said the person sitting next to me. “Just write an explanation.” So I signed my name in the ring and wrote, “Sorry, I rested my teacup on your card.” I noticed later that everyone who signed the card after me, drew a ring around their name!

We were supplied with fruitcake in little cellophane packs for our supper. I took a bite out of mine, then remembered I hadn’t given my meeting fee to the cashier. I put down the cake and went over to pay my money. When I came back to the table, my cake had gone! I’d been really looking forward to that cake. “Has anyone seen my cake?” I asked around. No one had. I gave up and got another piece.

As the meeting closed, a thoughtful friend quietly handed me another piece of cake. I thanked her and slipped it into my handbag. When I arrived home, I found I had two pieces of cake in my bag. One of them had a bite taken out of it!

The other night I dreamt I was chairing a meeting. I looked around at the empty tables and asked, “Who brought all these globs of nothing?”

“The world is becoming a scary place,” I reflected as I drove down a quiet back street, “What with the terrorists and bombings etc.” The car behind me tooted politely. I realised I had been driving a little slower than usual, so I pulled over and let it pass, then resumed at a faster pace.

Just as I passed a sloping driveway, a car suddenly backed out, almost colliding with mine. I only just managed to spurt ahead to avoid being hit.

“Geesh,” I thought, “You can get wiped out in a quiet street!”

The car continued to back across the road, almost hitting another car behind me.

“Stupid idiot!” I muttered, looking in the rear view mirror. I watched as it careened right across the road, mounted the curb and crashed into a fence.

Then I realised… the car was unoccupied!

I pulled over at the end of the street to watch what would happen next. The driver of the car behind drew alongside mine and wound down his window.

“Phew!” he said.

“Looks like we both had a narrow escape,” I said.

“It would have hit me,” he said, “only I had just slowed down a bit because someone flashed their lights to warn me of a radar trap! I’m going to buy a lottery ticket!”

And it probably would have hit me if I hadn’t picked up a bit of speed when another car tooted me! I think we both must have had a guardian angel!

But that wasn’t the end of the story…

I continued on to the service station and got petrol, then I thought, I’d better go back. Someone might need to know how it happened, and what if there was a child in the car? I turned and went back up the street.

The car was still there, on top of the broken fence. But there was no one in sight. No one in the street seemed to be aware that anything had happened. Should I get involved, I wondered.

The owner of the car would get an awful shock, I decided. I’d better let them know.

I walked up the driveway and knocked at the open door of the house. It was a large rambling house and appeared to be in a state of what I call a “creative chaos.” with a wild confusion of bright colours and unusual objects. It reminded me of an arty friend who lives in a similar creative environment.

A small boy came to the door.

“Mummy is round the back,” he said. I pushed my way through an overgrown tropical garden and found a small group of women talking on the back deck.

“Sorry to spoil your afternoon,” I said, “but did you know your car is across the road?”

One of the women shrieked and ran out to rescue her car. The others laughed immoderately. “Guess what, we’ve just had a handbrake incident!,” one called out to someone in the kitchen. “We were just discussing handbrakes failing,” she explained to me.

The woman in the kitchen came out and greeted me with surprise. It was my arty friend who lives in a similar house! She was visiting the people here.

“Do you two know one another?” asked the others.

“Yes,” laughed my friend. “ever since I was three!”

The car didn’t look too badly damaged. The simple paling and wire fence shouldn’t be too expensive to fix. And no one was hurt. That’s the main thing!

I hadn’t been asleep for long when something woke me last Saturday night.

What was that? There was a scraping noise outside my bedroom window. It couldn’t be the cats – they were all inside. Maybe it was the stray cat, looking for food on the patio.

I sat up in bed, pulled back the curtain, and pressed my face against the window to see out.

Yikes! I recoiled in horror. About 2 feet away from my window, there was a body slumped in one of the plastic chairs on my patio!

Could I have imagined it? Cautiously, I peeped again – this time at the corner of the window, without lifting the net curtain.

It was still there. It looked like a tall young man in his teens or early twenties. His face looked ghostly white – it might have been painted. He was wearing what appeared to be a black and white body suit.

What to do? I grabbed my cordless phone from the bedside table. Should I ring the police?

Although he’d scared the daylights out of me, the young man didn’t appear to be a threat. He was probably just drunk.

Suddenly, as I watched, he stood up and walked unsteadily out to the road

Phew! Problem gone!

But as I watched, he was joined by four others, all in black and white body suits. They meandered all over the road. I tried to go back to sleep, but the night visitors were still outside on the footpath in front of my house, talking in low tones. Occasionally one would walk up the road and come back again. They were there for over an hour.

Finally, I saw them walking away down the road. Peace at last! I could get some sleep. Just one last peep through the window…

Horrors! There was a body lying on my front footpath! He must have collapsed and the others had gone off and left him! Maybe they went for help. Would they return or should I phone the police?

I waited a while. I’d have to phone, I decided. If he’d taken drugs, he might be dead by morning. I picked up the phone.

But wait! They were back again! Four black and white forms were squatting around the body.

After a moment, he sat up, then he got to his feet and they all walked away together.

The street was quiet. I lay down and went to sleep.

Sorry, no October newsletter yet. Too busy preparing for Toastmasters and World Vision meetings, sorting stuff for Jumble Sales, playing with grandchildren etc. Back soon.

It was morning tea time when Jan and Callum arrived to bring us home. My aunt had made lots of pikelets and set them out with strawberry jam, gooseberry jam, cream, lemon butter- as well as cake and bunloaf…

“Have you been eating all the time you were here?” asked Jan.

“Yes,” I said. “Do I look any fatter?”

“Yes,” said Callum. (My scales at home proved him wrong, but it’s a miracle.)

We packed our bags in the car and before Jan had even turned on the motor, Callum started with “I spy with my little eye…” and so we travelled home again.

“I want to see your cats,” said Callum when we arrived back at my place.

Ingrid came to meet us, purring until she dribbled, but there was no sign of Olive and Oscar.

“Come on Callum,” said Jan, “You can see them next time. Grandma wants to get home.”

As I waved them up the road, Oscar and Olive suddenly appeared at my side, purring enthusiastically.

It was nice to go away for a while. But home is where the cats are.