love those cupcakes

The search continues

Following his impressive undergraduate performance, the Boy here is hoping to enrol on a Master's course next year.  This, unsurprisingly, will cost rather a lot of money.

He currently has a part time job working in my cousin's cafe but the wages are low and don't allow for much in the way of saving, despite living at home which does cut costs somewhat.

The search for full time work is ongoing but so far has only reinforced the view that there are very few opportunities here, an area which for many years has witnessed  decline and high rates of unemployment.

However, an advert for several jobs which sounded promising (and maybe even a little bit exciting) was spotted recently.  

One of the posts involved managerial responsibilities with a higher rate (£10 per hour) of pay but required particular personal characteristics which the Boy simply doesn't have.

He considered applying for one of the other lower paid (£6 per hour) jobs but finally decided not to because:

• the work was very time limited
• at 6' 2" he was probably too tall
• green definitely isn't his colour

Whilst I do think he should get his albeit very limited CV out there, I had to agree.

Somehow, I just couldn't visualise him as one of Santa's Elves.

 

A celebration

Today is Aunty M's birthday and this is her cake.  It's a basic Victoria chocolate sponge with a ganache frosting, topped off with sugar flowers and a sprinkling of glitter. 

Aunty is my (late) mother's sister, with a twenty year gap (and seven other siblings) between them.  She's the unmarried one, the one who remained at home with my gran, the one who taught me to knit and embroider, the one who always made the picnics on family day trips, the one who always bought unusual birthday and Christmas presents, the one who worked in my parents' shop two nights every week to give them some free time, the one who took me to "the pictures" on Friday nights, the one I stayed with after my gran died, the one I was, and still am, very close to. 

Aunty was an extremely skilful dressmaker (she did this for a living for many years) and made the most beautiful clothes without patterns.  This came in very handy when I was in my teens and all of the latest fashions were only available in London and the other big cities.  We'd spot an outfit on television or I'd show her what I wanted in a magazine (usually Petticoat), I'd then choose the fabric and she'd produce it very quickly.  She made me skirts, dresses, jackets, coats (one being a spectacular long velvet number).  I was often asked where I'd bought whatever it was I was wearing.

She still has her cabinet style sewing machine, which her parents and brothers and sisters clubbed together to buy for her 21st birthday, which was always stuffed full of the most gorgeous fabrics, buttons, zips and reels of cotton, and on which she created those fab outfits.  Sadly, it hasn't been used for years and is now just a piece of furniture used to display family photographs.

Aunty is now the one I share memories of my original family and childhood with and we often indulge in those "Do you remember.....?" conversations when I visit each week.  Here's to lots more reminiscing, birthdays and cake.

A bit of cosmetic surgery

Everyone has their views about it.

Me?  I'm all in favour of enhancing the appearance, albeit temporarily, with a bit of restoration.

Of course I know it's not possible to turn the clock back but I just couldn't look at the cracks and crevices and other signs of ageing any longer.

So I consulted with an expert who, after a thorough examination, explained what I could expect if I went ahead.

He also pointed out the risks.

His fees seemed reasonable for what he proposed to do and, most importantly, I trusted him.

We met again at the appointed time on Saturday and he began the improvement work that would take longer than anticipated, eight hours in total.

He told me afterwards he'd needed copious amounts of strong coffee to keep him going.

Recovery is still in progress.

Giveaway winner

             

Thanks to everyone who participated. 

The Boy very kindly did the honours and Jennyff is the winner of the cupcake book.

Jenny, please let me have your details and I'll get it in the post. 

 

Snippets

• Buying a bunch of autumn coloured flowers for Aunty M in the supermarket, only to be given a free identical bunch on the way out.

• Leaving work and all of that researching and document writing a few months ago and being busier than ever......researching and writing documents.

• Making a lemon drizzle cake and realising partway through baking that I'd left out the eggs.

• Making a wonderfully crusty spelt loaf and not being able to get it out of the tin.

• Realising the very noisy cat fight outside the house one night involved one of our kitties who returned home in a very sorry state.  Whilst wounds have since healed, pride has taken a bit of a knock.
  

• Hearing from the mister that one of his friends has had a fabulous extension built at the back of his house and his wife has run off with the builder.

• Popping out for a bite to eat (hummus and roasted veg pitta) yesterday and somehow buying a new car on the way home.

• Remembering there's still time for you to enter the cupcake book giveaway.

 

This, that and the other

On the way home after a meeting at the seaside the other day (and I really do question my decision to take on a couple of big pieces of consultancy work which are proving to be very restricting), I spotted these chaps (what is it about donkeys that always makes me want to cry?) relaxing after their summer of giving children rides along the beach.

Seeing them reminded me of my early days as a trainee social worker when the then purveyor of the donkey rides used to farm his donkeys out during the winter months to anyone who would have them.  Visiting a family in a part of town with now long gone streets of two up two down terraced houses,  I was greeted at the door by one of the children with "Come and see what we've got".  They'd taken one of them in.  Literally.  The donkey was living inside the house with them all.

Close to home, I stopped again (brazenly ignoring the "Private track.  Keep out." sign) to snap this view of my favourite local landmark looking hazy in this most unseasonal weather.

Whilst I was out doing my consultancy thing, the mister had been busy adding glass panels to a little garden project.  Remember this "before" picture of the bottom of the garden, when the old fencing was being taken down?

Here's what that corner looks like now.

The grassed area has been re-turfed, the wee summerhouse is in place and just needs some final tweaking (and a table and chairs for inside), and the shrubs and trees are recovering from some, it has to be said, brutal hacking.  Oh yes, and the adirondack chair has finally been painted and given its first airing.  After languishing in the garage for three years.

Progress, methinks.

At long last.