Church bell in Clyde.
Yeah, oh yeah, (glad dance) ring out the bells! So pleased that Southland retains the Ranfurly Shield.
The pudding I made for the dinner last night (see yesterday's post) came home again more or less intact. The two of us whose job it was to bring dessert didn't consult, and we both brought along an apple pie. Her apple pie was a finer example than mine and better presented (I forgot the golden rule - presentation - and an old oven dish was just never gonna cut it). Anyway, I can attest that it was yummy - with all that butter in the crumb, it couldn't fail to be. This is how the recipe reads: Put on top of half-cooked apples. 1 cup of flour, 1tsp baking powder, 3 oz (100 grams) butter, 3/4 cup brown sugar. Rub all together. Bake 1/2 hour (oven temp. 150 celsius).
The evening was a lot of fun. The food was amazing - an exemplary, creamy pumpkin soup (P. roasts the pumpkin first which gives it a rich pumpkin-y taste) followed by home-made pate in individual dishes, followed by a chicken casserole and pasta, followed by the apple pies, whipped cream and home-made ice-cream.
The fun came from the condition of our middle-aged condition with all its pesky memory gaps. Every time we tried to think of a person, a movie, a piece of music or a place, we were forced to go through a mental obstacle course saying inane things like, "k, k, k, k ... his name starts with k," and, "You know, the old one, you know, the one who died, married to j, j, j, j something ... salad dressing ... Paul! Paul Newman!" Exhausting.