The Day I Made Macaroons

The effect that the Diamond Jubilee had on our country was, quite frankly, amazing. One minute we’re busy going about our normal lives, moaning about everything from the weather to the recession. The next minute, Union Jacks flags are hanging out of windows, Gary Barlow is some sort of saint, and everyone’s talking about putting up the bunting. Apart from the fact that I still have absolutely no idea what bunting is, I have to say, it was a very good weekend.

I didn’t have any plans to do anything specifically for the Jubilee. However, Carla phoned me up and asked if I wanted to help her bake some red, white and blue macaroons for her mum’s Jubilee tea party. I’m quite possibly the worst cook in the world and so I was initially a bit hesitant, but eventually I decided that I would do it for my country.

Carla’s macaroons were, of course, perfect. Sweet, light and fluffy. They were everything a good macaroon should be. Mine were weirdly shaped, bright pink (there was no red or blue food colouring) and so hard, that I could barely bite into them without the risk of shattering my teeth.

‘What am I supposed to do with these?’ I asked Carla. There was no way she could serve these to the tea party guests. They were completely inedible. It would be like serving pebbles.

‘We could give them to the homeless’, she suggested.

‘What have the homeless done to upset you?’ I asked. ‘I guess you could use them to make a little rock display in the garden?’

I tried giving one of them to her little dog. He seemed to quite like it at first. However, two minutes later he started violently choking, coughing and farting (probably trying to do whatever he could to get rid of the macaroon).

‘Shall we make cupcakes instead?’ Carla suggested, throwing the rest of my macaroons in the bin. I knew that cupcakes would be much easier. All I had to do was follow the recipe exactly. No extra ingredients. No deviations.

When the cupcakes came out the oven, they actually looked quite nice. I even made a bit of chocolate ganache to go on the top. I couldn’t wait to see how they tasted. Took a big bite out of one of the cupcakes…it was basically a chocolate omelette!

Tamara and Jake both finished university this week. I’m ridiculously proud of both of them and also can’t believe that, after four years, the long distance aspect of my relationship with Tamara is finally over.

Went up to Nottingham Uni to visit Tamara after her last exam. I realised that this weekend was probably the last one I’ll ever spend in Nottingham (hopefully). It’s been a big part of my life for the past six years. One thing I won’t miss, however, is having a shower in Tamara’s house.

You’d be forgiven for thinking that a house of 8 girls would be clean and tidy. However, their bathroom is a disgrace! I refuse to take off my socks until I’m virtually in the shower in case I catch something from the floor that’s never been cleaned. There’s a dead wasp just under the radiator that’s been gradually decomposing since they moved in. Also, each girl has a bottle of shampoo, a bottle of conditioner and a bottle of body wash in the shower, so if I accidentally kick one bottle, all 24 fall over like dominoes. The most frightening thing, however, is the upturned plug in the corner of the shower. I don’t know who or what is wrapped around that plug, but on close inspection, it looks like it could be part of someone’s wig. 

Got home on Sunday and received an email confirmation from Procter & Gamble about the P&G Capital Clean Up this weekend. A bit of background: unless you’ve been on holiday on Mars for the past 7 years, you may be aware that the Olympics are coming up soon. Procter & Gamble (Proud Sponsor of Mums etc.) have set up an initiative to clean up parts of London before the tourists arrive for the Games.

I thought it would be a nice idea to get involved in the Olympics somehow, so decided to volunteer. My mum thinks it’s weird. She thinks it’s strange that I’ve never tidied my bedroom in my life yet I’m volunteering to clean up a city.

The problem is, I’ve been told that I’ll be placed in Barnet! I’ve just been on Google Maps and can confirm that Barnet is about 20 miles away from the Olympic site. It’s got nothing to do with the Olympics whatsoever! The only tourists who might set foot in Barnet are the ones who happen to have fallen asleep on the Northern line on their way home from the Games.

So this weekend, I’ll be in Coppetts Wood Nature Park ‘restoring natural habitats, clearing and improving pathways and removing unsightly litter that threatens local wildlife.’ I’m sure it will be fun. At the very least, I’m sure I’ll have something to blog about.