Fudge And Other Lovely Things

I'm feeling anxious tonight. One of our roosters (Fudge, the best-looking one) has escaped the coop and is running loose. Ben and I have tried to catch him but in doing so we have thoroughly spooked him. It happened while we were moving his lot to another house. I had him gathered up twice but he was too strong for me and got away. I hope his might stands him in good stead if he meets Foxy tonight.

It's been a while since the blog has been updated but there has been a lot going on. On Saturday I took the girls to a sixth birthday party and it was a hot day. Baking hot.

I love that Cooper the Labrador thinks that it is his birthday. Martha and Evie are in there somewhere.

Later that evening Bert and I went to Toome to hear A Talk. The subject of The Talk was the same as the recent film Maze (currently on Netflix) which told the story of the 1983 mass prison breakout from the Maze prison. The film was rather sombre. The Talk given by three of the people involved less so. It was an interesting night.

On Sunday Zoe and I and Leitrim Sister took part in Procession2018 in Belfast which was a wonderful experience. We marched with at least a thousand other women (and a smattering of men) from the Titanic Slipway to City Hall.

We were walking with the Leitrim group that campaigned hard for the recent Irish referendum on abortion rights. There were a few frosty faces from onlookers but far more reactions that were positive, particularly from older women.

On Monday I made cheese and onion pie and a rice pudding for our family dinner and Martha asked,

Granny, why is your rice pudding so tough and ricey?

Although Bert thought it was yummy. Tough and ricey is his favourite pud.

Yesterday I went to Ikea with Zoe and bought a very pretty cushion. There were thousands of them so I expect almost everyone else in the world possesses this lovely thing.

And another lovely thing...

This claret-coloured poppy just turned up among the ordinary self-seeded papaver somniferum that grows in the polytunnel. I must mark it and save the seed.

Fudge turned up! No chicken dinner for Foxy tonight.

Fudge is the big boy in the middle of the picture. 

When The Birthday Boy Makes His Own Cake

At last! A birthday cake that turned out well. Bert baked it, Martha, Evie and Granny decorated it. Bert's cake rose nicely. The last one I made, Martha asked,

Granny, why is your cake like a biscuit?

My last pizza she said,

Why does your dough rise so much? It should be thin.

From now on I might get Bert to do the pizza bases as well.

We had great fun decorating the cake. The glace icing was better than last time when Martha's favourite dog ornament kept sliding off.

You'd never guess what age he was now? Martha really wanted those number candles.

Two would only be 1.70 Granny. And we can use the 9 again when it's my birthday. 

I allowed her to have them as a reward for being good at maths.

And Bert? He said he had a lovely birthday. When everyone had gone home we did a delivery to a garden centre in Magherafelt. It was only then that I noticed he still had glitter on his nose from the birthday cards that the girls made for him.