A parochial weekend

It's been a knackering weekend. On Friday I was running about sorting the latest iteration of my CV and my Housing Benefit and lots of other stuff.

Earlier in the week my brother had mentioned that there was a cake making cotest at a flower show near where he stays and as there was a cagetory for cakes made by man, we ought to enter.

I made a victoria sponge, but in the absense of two cake tins the same size, and areading the recipe properly, I made a very thin stepped victoria sandwich.

I tried to build up the height with loads of jam in the filling layer and a thick blanket of icing sugar dusted over the top.

There are still run-up to Indietracks gigs going on that I just have to go to, so, still on Friday night, I headed into town to the Betsey Trotwood to see Lets Whisper, 'Allo Darlin' and Sweet Baboo.

I arrived just a wee bit too late, missed Lets Whisper, but with a nice place to stand to see 'Allo Darlin'.

They do make jolly nice music, beautiful and innocent and stuff.

Just before I wrote this blogpost, I was on iTunes, buying their latest EP, Henry Rollins Don't Dance.

I didn't really know what to expect with Sweet Baboo, but was pleasant surprised, I think they could be a tightly rehearsed comedy act rather than an indiepop group.

As with Allo Darlin, I was on iTunes buying up a couple of their tracks too, but I gotta say, I preferred them live to them recorded. The MP3s seem to have lost much of the character they had on stage.

So, aye, I race back home, look at train times to get to the Essex coastal village where my brother lives by 9am on Saturday morning, figure I'm going to have to get up at 6am to do it, and then I go to bed.

My neighbours were having a bit of a row at 3am. I think the chap hates his job and thinks the girl, who wasn't shouting so loud, has ruined his life. Its possible I guess. Maybe he was just stressed. Aw man, there've been times in my life when I've felt as exasperated as he sounded, but I've survived, and most of my baggage was lost on the way. It was difficult at times, but now I'm unemployed and have a beautiful young ladyfriend who I bicker with constantly, but I don't blame her for any of my problems.

Anyhoo, so I slept through my 6am alarm, woke at 7am and decided the only way to make it on time was to drive.

We managed to get our entries to the various contests entered in time. My brother's victoria sandwich looked far more victoria sandwichish than mine, but I tried not to worry about it.

Whilst the neice was at her Saturday morning dance class, my frere and I were at a driving range. He's perfected the technique of making the ball go vertical, I'm still struggling with hitting the ball at all.

A few hours later we reassembled at the Southminster Flower Show to check out how we did in the competition.

I'm proud of my attempt, but it didn't look much like the other entries in the viccy sandwich by man category.

The neice didn't do much better in her colouring in competition but to be fair, she was up against 4 1/2 year olds and she's only 3 1/2. That extra twelve months is probably when kids develope their colouring in skills. Next year the trophy will be her's.

However, the sister-in-law, she came second in the brownie contest, her's were marvellously gooey. I think that's the secret to great brownies, the ones you get in supermarkets are always too dry, they have no soul.

The rest of the flower show was nice, the flowers a little boring to me, but the horticultural tent was packed with wonders.

and the hog roast stall looked lovely, but we gave it a miss.

Glorious sunshine all round, old people and young people all enjoying themselves. Ooh, it was great, I felt so English.

Fell asleep as soon as I got home.

More photies from the Southminster Flower Show 2009
More photies from the Sweet Baboo and Allo Darlin gig at the Betsey Trotwood