Okay, it’s official, Peter is sick. He must have caught it from dad… who is still sick. Bunch of sickies. I am rough and tough and feeling fine. No honestly, I’m fine… it’s just that when I cough no one believes me.
Dimc mentioned first thing this morning (7am) that she had an idea – she could meet us back at her house at around 4pm and we could all go on a pub-crawl. “That sounds good, let’s see how Peter is doing this afternoon,” I said. (Have you ever noticed that in my stories, I’m always the voice of reason… cool eh?) By 9am the entire South End had been invited to join in. Perhaps I exaggerate… but only slightly. However due to Peter’s state, the pub-crawl is cancelled.
Di’s mom’s b’day is Sunday so while Di is at work I attempted (and mostly succeeded!) in making 3 layers of cake for her b’day cake. Di’s mom is a professional cake baker. So of course… no cake mix… it’s all from scratch. Why do I get myself into these traps all the time?!? I followed Di’s instructions and the recipe scrupulously… muttering under my breath the whole time that there was absolutely NO way to get the butter & sugar together so you couldn’t feel the sugar crystals between your finger tips… Well there is – but in a Saint John kitchen in March it involves a sink full of hot water and running back and forth between the mixer and the sink trying to find that gentle balance between warm enough and not melted. When I regained consciousness it was 2pm. The cakes are a beautiful golden brown, likely denser than hoped…
Quick trip to the market for greens and stuff to augment the wonderful roasted chicken Di made for us for dinner.
Have I mentioned how great it is having a professional chef for a friend. Yup, I’m spoiled! Hot Rum Toddies for Peter, Dark & Stormies for me and Rum for Di. Molly hiding in the computer room with the A-team: Alaurea and Amy.
A quick jaunt around the South end and over to look at Partridge Island through the dark dank night from Tin Can Beach near the sugar refinery. It was magical. Then a quick stop at a corner store to grab some molasses cookies to dip in our King Cole when we got home. Ah… what a lovely night. Who needs a pub crawl!