love those cupcakes

Lately

It's been so very hot.  We've done nothing more energetic than:

• Snooze in the sun with whatever's been to hand to serve as a cushion

• Celebrate a boy's 24th birthday with pizza and a lemon lime frosted cake (Nigella's recipe)

• Sniff the roses

• Watch the latest episode of gripping, dark, unpredictable, brilliantly acted, stunningly located new favourite, Top of the Lake

• Quaff the perfect-for-an-afternoon-in-the-garden-with-the-Saturday-paper tipple

Don't worry.

We have replenishments.

 

The new chair

 First there was this.

At the time, poor Bea Cat was blamed.

Turns out the culprit was of the canine variety. 

He was caught out when he decided to give the sofa seat cushions a makeover.

In the early hours.

When he was supposed to be asleep in his bed in a corner of the living room.

No wonder the police helicopter has been hovering overhead recently.

Baaad dog.

As from today, there's this, courtesy of Mr P. Knoll.

There are also two new sofas.

And a new floor.

Still to replace:  lighting, curtains, rug, cushions. 

Not that they've been damaged. Just because.

Seems a certain ginger haired, butter wouldn't melt spaniel isn't being replaced.

So he has a new bed.

Upstairs.

 

Horses for courses

It's fair to say that the local constabulary has come in for a fair bit of bad press recently.  There was this, this, this, this and this.

Then came the news which once again had residents' blood boiling - the decision to scrap the mounted unit of the force (and sell the five horses) because it's no longer affordable (hardly surprising given the misuse of funds, dodgy dealings and pay-offs over the last eighteen months.) 

The police horses are a familiar sight hereabouts, from attendance at every football match (an essential part of a local supporter's kit being a packet of Polo mints) to PR visits to local schools.  In the run up to Christmas they're usually out and about wearing reindeer antlers and they were even on duty at the London Olympics. The horses live very comfortably in the stable block of the town's only National Trust property and can often be spotted enjoying the grounds. 

There's been a huge outcry, a protest march and a search for a sponsor but, alas, all  in vain.

It seems the force can afford this, though.

Yesterday, as I was dead heading the roses, I thought it was preparing to land in our garden.

It didn't, thankfully, and appeared to be concentrating on the little park near our house where Boo takes his twice daily constitutionals.  We wondered what on earth could be going on, given this was about four in the afternoon. 

Now I know this isn't the most salubrious of areas in the country and the town is usually to be found at the top of the league tables for a lot of the bad stuff (thanks again, Kirstie and Phil) but, as far as I'm aware,  we're not big on serious crime (if you discount the higher echelons of the police force itself, of course), the sort that might warrant a flashy chopper for our coppers.   I mean, I flicked through Aunty M's copy of the local paper recently and the headline was 'Boy has bike stolen from shed', with an accompanying picture of a boy and a shed sans bike.   

The under age drinkers would still have been on their way home from school and, anyway,  they tend to party in the bushes at the weekend and in the dark.  Maybe the police had been tipped off about the dog walker who regularly fails to scoop the poop.  Or maybe the TWOC'd bike had been spotted.  Who knows.*

Come to think of it, though, Boo was looking a tad shifty when the helicopter was overhead so this might come in handy as a mug shot.

*  Update:

Apparently the police were searching for a patient who'd gone missing from the hospital down the road.  

I think I'd prefer to be found by a horse.

Out of the oven recently

A sponge cake fit for a Wimbledon final.

Fruit loaf.  Read about here.  Just had to be tried.

Rhubarb and almond crumble.  With a generous topping of vanilla ice cream.  Polished off in the garden. 

Macarons.  The colour of my new apricot shoes.  Paired using lashings of tangy lemon buttercream. 

Is it obvious that the kitchen is one of the coolest rooms in the house?

 

Procrastinating

 A piece of unfinished work has been hanging over me for quite a while.  Not because I've been dragging my feet particularly, I hasten to add, but more to do with the commissioning organisation being unclear, unresponsive and, it has to be said, unprofessional.  I only agreed to take on the project in the first place because the head of service was a much respected former colleague.  Unfortunately, it all lost momentum and I lost motivation when she chose to retire.

Yesterday I decided enough was enough, I'd knuckle down for the remainder of this week and next, produce what I think the organisation needs, submit an invoice and finally draw a line under the whole thing.

Today has been satisfyingly productive.

Which just goes to show, 'Any one can do any amount of work, provided it isn’t the work he is supposed to be doing at that moment'.  (Robert Benchley, 1930)

 

Incredible levitating dog

And now, for his next trick.......................................

 

Stocktaking

There's no doubt that the local snail and slug population continues to enjoy a nightly buffet in the garden but it isn't all doom and gloom.  Whilst some plants have been gobbled up completely, others, if a little nibbled and raggy round the edges, are putting up a brave fight.   Yes, there are still gaps to be filled in the borders and no, this little plot wouldn't win any prizes, but the range of colours out there yesterday was quite surprising.

One of the cotoneasters which was planted last year was a veritable hive of activity. I don't think I've seen (or heard) so many bees on one shrub.

Whilst I was playing with the camera, someone was waiting patiently with a forgotten present which he'd come across when mooching behind the summer house.

He got his game.  But only after I'd swept more of the seemingly endless drifts of dead eucalyptus leaves which are driving. me. mad.