November 02

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MAMALADE

Newsletter

November

Nov 7 . Globs of nothing
Nov 14 . Who will buy?
Nov 23 . Seeing clearly

Thursday 7th November, 2002
Globs of nothing
Our Toastmasters Club is conducting an 8-week Speech Craft course. It's good to see how the participants are developing their speaking skills after only a few weeks. Most of them have already presented their second speech. Of course it means I haven't had time to update my Newsletter lately, as I've been involved in helping with the course.
The local Primary school is allowing us to hold the Speech Craft course in their music room. The first night, there were no outside lights. It was a very dark route from the front gate to the music room. I met each one at the gate and escorted them in by torchlight. Going to the toilet during the break was even worse. We had to walk some distance down a long passage and a couple of flights of stairs. Definitely not a trip to be taken alone! While we were in the toilet, the torch went out. The battery was flat.
The outside lighting has since been rectified, but it's still an eerie trip to the toilets and one better made in company.
Our regular meetings continue to be very lively. Last week we had an Interpretive Reading contest, which proved to be so popular, we had trouble finding enough people to perform the roles of Toastmaster, timer, etc, because nearly everyone was in the contest! By coincidence, everyone had chosen to read from an Australian author. I read a passage from Ruth Park's "Poor Man's Orange" - one of my favourites!
We all signed a "Get Well" card for one of our members, who has just had an operation. The card was passed round the table during the meeting and had reached my place by the refreshment break. I didn't realise it was the open card in front of me and used it as a coaster for my teacup. It left a brown ring on the inside of the card.
"Never mind," said the person sitting next to me. "Just write an explanation." So I signed my name in the ring and wrote, "Sorry, I rested my teacup on your card." I noticed later that everyone who signed the card after me, drew a ring around their name!
We were supplied with fruitcake in little cellophane packs for our supper. I took a bite out of mine, then remembered I hadn't given my meeting fee to the cashier. I put down the cake and went over to pay my money. When I came back to the table, my cake had gone! I'd been really looking forward to that cake. "Has anyone seen my cake?" I asked around. No one had. I gave up and got another piece.
As the meeting closed, a thoughtful friend quietly handed me another piece of cake. I thanked her and slipped it into my handbag. When I arrived home, I found I had two pieces of cake in my bag. One of them had a bite taken out of it!

The other night I dreamt I was chairing a meeting. I looked around at the empty tables and asked, "Who brought all these globs of nothing?"

Thursday, November 14, 2002
Who will buy?
Never again!
I know I said it last time, and the time before, and the time before that - this time I really mean it!
It always happens a week or so before our World Vision Club has a street stall, which is several times a year. I get this sudden urge to start baking. It would probably be OK if I just made a batch of cakes or biscuits, then stopped. But with my talent for messing up the whole kitchen (sometimes it spreads through the house) I always think, why make this mess for just one batch? So I triple the recipe.
Now, one triple batch might be alright if I could only stop there. But then I always think (mistakenly) that I can cope with another triple batch.
These acts of madness usually take place at night, after dinner, in the belief that I can fall into bed when I'm finished and recover with a good night's sleep. Believe me, it takes longer than that!
This time I started with little sultana cupcakes. It's a favourite recipe and they're very tasty. Nothing much to go wrong there, you'd think. I beat up triple quantities of butter and sugar, added eggs, etc…Uh, oh! What if there's not enough self-raising flour? I should have checked.
Phew! What a relief, the flour container was full. I lifted the lid. Awk! It was full of tiny black specks. Weevils! It happens easily in our sub tropical climate. The container couldn't have been airtight.
A desperate search through the cupboard produced another unopened pack of flour. Good, no weavils! I measured out one cup of flour, then another…was that two cups or three? I'm still not sure. I only know they didn't rise as they should. The tops of the cakes spread out over the muffin pan and stuck tight.
Well, about half of them came out intact when they were cooked, but the rest disintegrated into crumbs.
Never mind, I still felt I could do a bit more. How about a triple batch of Anzac biscuits? Everyone's favourite and they're foolproof - almost!
Oats, flour, coconut…I was really getting into this baking business! I mixed in the butter and syrup, rubbing it in with my hands, dripping bits all over the bench, on the floor and plastering the tap when I washed it off my hands. The mixture was ready to go on the biscuit trays. I tasted a bit.
Yuk! I'd left out the sugar! Now I had to somehow add three cups of sugar to the stiff mixture. I worked in the first cup. The mixture felt gritty. Maybe if I just moistened the second cup of sugar with a little bit of hot water. And the third…
The mixture was sticky now. I added more flour, rolled the dough into balls and flattened them on the tray. My back was aching and I was feeling light headed, which is precisely why in my saner moments I know I should never attempt a second triple batch.
I pulled the kitchen stool over to the bench, managing to place one leg of it in the cats dish and spilling the contents on the floor.
I was running out of bench space. I placed one tray of uncooked Anzacs on the stool, while I put three more trays into the oven.
Phew, I was tired! I sat down wearily on the stool - in the tray of sticky Anzacs!
By the time the last tray was in the oven, I felt I just had to sit for a while and recover in front of the TV…
When I dragged myself back, a few on the side were a bit burnt, but most could be salvaged. I was too tired to start washing up so I went back and sat down while they cooled.
Couldn't think what day it was for a moment - I must have dozed off. Oh yes, the Anzacs…
They were cool. But they weren't crisp. They looked rather soggy. Must have used too much water. I reheated the oven and put them back in, then I tackled the huge pile of washing up.
The mixing bowl slipped out of my hands and fell onto the cat's dish, smashing it to smithereens. Oh, well, one less dish to wash!
I put the little sultana cakes into plastic snap lock bags and piled them up on the end of the bench. The Anzacs looked crisp now - maybe a little too crisp. I took the first tray out of the oven and placed it on the bench - oops! Too close to the plastic bags. Now the bags were melted and stuck onto the tray.
It was well after midnight by the time I had everything cleaned up and the cooking in snaplock bags. Leaving out the two bags of crumbs, two bags of burnt sultana cakes, and three bags of burnt Anzacs, we should be able to get about $30 for the rest. It would have been much simpler to donate $30….
Unless I could charge the same rates as the E.N.T. specialist that I saw last week. Lets see… $90 for 15 minutes…that would be 4 hours at $360 an hour = $1440.
That's $72 per pack of 8 Anzacs - or $9 each!
Prospective customers can visit our stall next week!

Saturday, 23rd November 2002
Well, we sold all my cakes and biscuits on the stall - for a realistic $2 a pack rather than $72! The stall was a great success. We also had a Books & Bric-a-Brac Sale in the hall at the same time, as we had enough helpers to man both. I spent the morning alternating between both places. Altogether, we raised about $1000 for the Fistula Hospital, so it was all worthwhile.

Seeing clearly
I got new glasses this week. Two sets - one for reading and one for long distance. I usually only wear glasses for reading, but I can see more comfortably with the new long distance glasses, so I'm starting to wear them sometimes.
I wore them shopping the first day and met a friend in the Supermarket. "How do you like my new glasses?" I asked her.
"I thought you looked different," she said. "Let's try them on!"
She squinted through them at the packets on the shelves and promptly handed them back.
"They look the same as my old reading glasses," I said. "You've seen me in them."
"No, these are different," she said. "They're a different shape."
"They're exactly the same!" I said, producing my old reading glasses.
She studied them both for a while, then her face brightened.
"I know what it is!" She said. "They're cleaner!"
I sat on the seat outside the bank waiting for Mum. I was idly watching people passing by or queuing up at the ATM. Everything did look a bit clearer through my new glasses. I closed my left eye, checking the vision in my right eye, which is slightly weaker. I could see clearly with it. I closed my right eye to check the left one - then I realised a man waiting at the ATM was watching me with a strange expression on his face. He must have thought I was winking at him!
I beat a hasty retreat around the corner.

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