Driving back from taking me to the supermarket, Samantha pulled into the right hand lane, in front of, and behind a mini, with a third a little further up the road. "Oh no!" I shouted. "You have just interrupted the remake of the Italian Job. They are going to have to do another take!" She responded with something like, "I used to drive a mini, so it's okay" and I continued singing to the seventies tune that was playing on the radio. Thelma and Louise, we ain't!
My time in the 'Bake off' tent would have been very limited this week. Although the pastry was really quite short and in my opinion rather delicious, I made the mistake of trying something different. Rather than make my usual mini tarts (nothing to do with the Italian Job, as it became more of a botched job) in the large tray with the small pockets, I cut out square pieces of dough and put them in the square spaces. They should have looked rather clever, but they did not slide out easily, as do the rounds. "Leave them to shrink", said my daughter, who sounded quite confident at the prospect. I should have known better, as they did not shrink, but stuck fast to the tin! Out of a dozen, I managed to salvage half, the other six having broken in one way or another. "You can glue them", she said, with a smirk on her face, remembering my glue story from last week! In fact, that turned out to be a good idea, but traditional glue would not be used! Obviously! I am the only one who eats glue!
The threat of heavy rain and storms was imminent. I watched as the lightening streaked across the sky, but there was no rain. "You got rain yet?" came the message. We did not! It took an hour and a half for the rain to actually reach us, but when it did, the flash flood warnings came up on every screen! It raged for most of the night, and I was quite pleased that I had covered my newest plant collection, so that they would not drown.
Singing in the rain may be a good title for a film, and may have the element of a 'feel good' movie, but for me, swimming in the rain is glorious! The thunder had past and I could hear the birds just as dawn was breaking, so I knew any future storms were somewhat further afield. "Must be hard to swim in this", a neighbour shouted from his car, as he slowed down to talk to me. I told him that it was "glorious". He frowned. "Isn't it too cold?" What can I say! You can take the girl out of England.....! As it happens, the water was not cold. It was perfect! My garden, on the other hand, was not!
I drove to Joe to pick up a supply of coffee, and enjoy a brief interlude. Gail was at the factory and that was an added bonus. I told them how my garden was farming. One of the pepper stalks had fallen in the rain, but thankfully, had not snapped. I had lovingly (and believe me when I say lovingly it really was) cradled it in one arm, whilst securing a cage with the other. Caging plants is not quite like caging animals! I draped (as there is no other way to describe a wilting plant) over one of the rings of the cylindrical enclosure, and said some soothing words! A lone pepper hung. as if it was willing itself not to be too heavy and burden its producer. Others were too small to know that they were possibly adding weight to an already weighted down parent! I had emptied out the buckets in which some stand, and had to siphon out others! Gail looked at me in amazement. "Where are you doing all this?" Out came the video. "Welcome to the garden". She was, by all accounts, rather amazed.
Another round of storms took place around four in the morning. I had covered my babies again, and was not too concerned. The rainwater would be good for the rest! I had never in my wildest dreams imagined that I would be able to produce anything in the handkerchief that we call a sun room, but here I was, nurturing the next round! They had survived the brutal onslaught for two nights in a row. Much like my pastry cases! They survived the brutal onslaught of a knife digging them out of their cozy warm home, in which some were stuck fast! I was rather pleased when I presented them and received, several "Wow"s! Yes, I used glue. Patisserie cream is rather gluey, and whipped cream covers a multitude of sins! Plop a strawberry on top, and all looks quite inviting. Once the preferred piece of cutlery makes the first cut, it matters not if it all falls apart.
Of course, there are many 'variations on a theme', and whilst most of my stories are repeat performances, there is a slight difference in most. "Come on, you are on an Interstate", my husband said loudly to the driver who sped at a snail's pace along the road. "It is a freeway", I interjected. "In fact, it is an Expressway!" I corrected myself. "He is still required to go at highway speed", came the response. Of course, the snail in front was oblivious to our conversation, but as we moved to the next lane to overtake so did he! It was as if he had heard every word we said. Conspiracy theorist at the ready! "Oooh" we both said, and laughed! Am I sharing a mind with an American, or is the American sharing a mind with the Brit!
Thankfully, the storms abated, and my plants started to show signs of revival. The bedraggled pepper plant started to show signs of recovery, and its leaves lifted slightly as the sun shone. I was in a very good mood.
perturbed that I had interrupted something she was doing. I did not apologise, as I assumed that if she answered the phone and asked if she could be of assistance, that she would like to be of assistance! Normally, the smaller county clerks are rather lovely, and will help in any way, but perhaps this one had suffered from drooping pepper plants and had no cages! "Hmph. I will have to go back to my desk. Hang on." A sharp intake of breath was heard, followed by a groan, and finally, "Yes. What is the number?" When I gave her the case number, she became even more peeved. Perhaps the pepper stalk had snapped. "She is still working on it", was the response, as if I had a clue as to whom was 'she'. "Is she", I said, which was rhetorical. Another grunt, groan, sharp intake of breath and then, "Yes!" I thanked her for her time, and excused myself from the call! Perhaps her whole garden had not survived!
I did not let a grumpy clerk bring me down. I was still on a roll! The postman had caught me about to run an errand. He commented on my attire. "You look...well, as the young folk would say, 'fly'". I thanked him, for what I assumed was a compliment. He is a new postman and has been asked to collect our mail by his supervisor. A little later, I conveyed the conversation to Dana. "What does 'fly' mean?" he asked. I had no idea but told him that I had assumed it meant 'cool', although it may have meant, "Old woman trying to look young. Mutton dressed as lamb?" He said he doubted it.
Once again, the weekend rolled around and the sun shone, although the temperatures had dipped. It appears they will rise slightly over the next week,, but the overnights are going to be lower. My mother and son said they have had to turn on the central heating, so I am thankful for the warmth outside!
The weekend has passed too quickly, and work will be starting again. It has been a rather interesting time of late. I am hoping to get down the second take of the screen play in ........... another story!
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