Dinner has been cheesey vegetable bake with spaghetti for Mr Bee and salad for me. Today has been rather fine, with several (albeit distancing) conversations with neighbours and friends. People are getting the hang of the 'phone, too!
Soo xx
Coo!
Do I recognise the recipe by any chance?
You do, Darling. It’s the only cake I make, now, and it freezes wonderfully well. Once all of the beastly viral shite has gorn away, we’ll be able to welcome friends and family to eat the freezers empty. The wine cellar (yeah, right) will need some attention by then - azzin restocking.
Soo xx
That looks to be a particularly beautiful example of the genre, Soo.
Gxx
Thanks, Gus. No matter how often I bake it, it always has blackened edges. These don’t affect the quality of the flavour, for me, but Mr Bee thought that ‘we’ must be accurate in all. So, the oven thermometer wozz employed and registered 180°C at the chosen-by-me-hitty-missy level on me Neff dial azzan approximation. To the tune of ‘Never Smile at a Crocodile’:
Never bake with a Scientist
It’ll drive yer mad, but then you’ll just get pissed.
So, gin. We remain friends.
Soo xx
Mr Bee is a fortunate fellow. Firstly in that he is not married to me; and secondly in that he gets cakes; and thirdly in that he has not had his thermometer deployed in the veterinary fashion and with considerable force (actually, that might have been covered under ‘Firstly’, but a bit of elaboration never hurts).
That, gwenynen bach fy, is magnificent … and I would PAY to have the ‘blackened’ edges.
What a splendid cake Soo
The Bull is looking hopeful and wondering if cake might happen here
We are short on eggs with just 4 dozen though
And friends hens all laying away so no problem getting more eggs
But we don’t have enough for cake according to the cook aka ME
I love that moniker, diolch yn fawr, Armers.
Soo xx
[bludgeons Armers lightly] [rolls him in powdered charcoal]
‘That’s be fifty quid, darlin’. Counts as ‘special’, innit’.
[turns up late wiv flamethrower]
How very kind, Hedgers.
I’ll be off to bed, shortly. I’d like to find out how that Fishly Finger is doing, but it’s not all about me, I know.
Good nights, Cellarites,
Soo xx
Yer welcome Soo.
Looking closely ‘bach’, mid sentence, would be ‘fach’. Pron. ‘vakh’. Still means ‘little’ in a caring sense.
cf wee Bee 
Given that my hoarded Welsh is largely profanities or blasphemy (more easily spoken than spelt out - never mind grammatically expressed), I am just grateful for the attention, Armers.
Soo xx
I suppose you can get Gin in any language, Soo
I meant to ask about the Fishly Finger last night, & also if fish finger sandwiches have yet been tried, but I got distracted by summat
Thirst, probably…
Carinthia.xx
[pourity]
(Don’t ask where the ambulance came from. Nobody ever stops an ambulance, narmean? I’ll put it back after the job.)
The fishly finger is not hurting.
Orf to me nest.
But is it still weeping or extruding green?
We should be told as we worrit about our fishy one
The
Neither.
A formation of four ducks has just gone past the window.
