Monday 24 September 2012

It's Like Baking A (Motherfucking) Cake

Ok, first off I have to give credit to Kristine at Wait in the Van for the title of this post.  For some reason it just made me laugh (although not as much as the actual post she wrote) and so I've stolen it ....  No excuses, just blatant theft and there possibly won't be any mention of cake either but never mind.

What I really wanted to talk about was breasts.

Well, blackberries and breasts.

Or, more specifically, blackberries, Jeeps and breasts (Oh yes, and those vest tops with the built in support which means you don't need to wear a bra unless you are particularly well endowed, which I'm not so I wear them without one).

And dogs, cows and random randy bulls ....

Anyhow, individually, in their rightful place, all of these things are great (well, with the exception of randy bulls).

As a combination ....  Hmm, well lets just say, they don't work so well!

Let me enlighten you.

The blackberries down by the canal have been pretty crappy this year.  The equation of rain and sun has left them small and bitty and they tend to fall apart when you pick them.

When I refused SD a taste of my solitary blackberry and apple crumble (hey, I LIKE him ok, I just don't like him that much!) he offered to take me for a recce around the fields next to the farm to see if we could find some better ones.

Last Thursday was a shorts and vest top day and we headed off, in the Jeep, with Gus running loose behind us ... and around us ...  and FUCK, in front of us!!

Bloody dog nearly gave me a heart attack and SD started to get really pissed off at me shouting:


Apparently I was sucking all the fun out of the 60 degree climb out of the disused riverbed.

Well excuse me but the prospect of your Jeep wearing my dog like a black and white furry muffler isn't really doing much for me either!

Once Gus was safely ensconced in the back of the Jeep happily bouncing up and down as we shot down banks and along a rutted path I realised that the so called 'support' in my tee shirt a) wasn't really man enough for the job and b) that SD wasn't entirely unaware of this fact.  In fact, I'd go so far as to say he might have been taking an unnecessary amount of pleasure in seeking out the bumpiest path he could find!

Whilst it might have been amusing for him, I was in bloody agony!

I sat there, arms tightly folded, glaring at him while he shrugged helplessly muttering something about 'hard springs' and laughing at me.  BASTARD!

In the end Id had enough and hopped out telling SD I'd walk back and heading across the field to a gate that looked like a short cut.

As I approached the gate a herd of cows came rambling over obviously thinking I was there to feed them.  Now I like cows, I was brought up in the country and I'm not afraid of them.  Mostly if you leave them alone they will do the same for you.

I could hear SD shouting something but the cows were making a bit of a noise so I couldn't quite catch what he was saying.  As I swung my leg over the gate I heard him shout something that sounded like 'balls'. 

Balls?  BALLS? How about I repeatedly kick you in the balls and then you might have some effing idea of the pain I'm in??? 

Hmmm ... no, didn't THINK so!

As I dropped to the other side of the gate SD screeched to a halt in front of it.

'Didn't you hear me shouting you bloody idiot? - there's a BULL in that field!'

Ahh, ok, sure enough, there at the back of the crowd was the biggest, ugliest, meanest looking bull (with frankly the hugest appendage Ive EVER seen) eyeing me up with a hungry gleam in his mean little eyes.

Was I grateful to SD for (possibly) saving my life.
Well, no, I've got to admit I wasn't really. 

In fact I was even more pissed off at having my hissy fit inturrupted like that so I still refused to get into the Jeep and stomped off again with  bloody SD following me really slowly in the Jeep across the field and sniggering damn him with Gus barking at me from the back seat.

Trying to reassert my superiority and regain a little dignity I went off to do some kitten wrangling when we got back.  The farm cat had kittens a while back and I'd offered to take them home to get them used to people before re homing them.  Two have already been and gone to good homes and now I had two more to catch.  SD isn't a fan of cats and they know it so this is MY area of expertise.

Want to see what I ended up with?

Hmm, well blogger doesn't seem to want to let me insert photos right now so I'll tell you:

A three inch scratch along the side of my little finger, a gouge out of the finger next to it, a chunk out of one knuckle and a really deep scratch on my middle finger that bled like buggery.  Oh, and no fecking kittens!

On the plus side, there were loads of blackberries and on Saturday I picked enough to make 8ltrs of blackberry and apple to put in the freezer plus four bags of blackberries on their own to make ice cream with and today I made an apple and blackberry crumble cake, yay, now the title of this post makes SOME sense (thanks again Kristine ;).

I have to say, I'm pretty sure there are some people out there who probably have absolutely NO  idea what goes into baking a (motherfucking)  cake!


Sandra said...

That cake is going to taste *delicious*...and think of the memories every time you use up some of your frozen treasure xx

Sarah said...

The cake was great Sandra and the whole blackberry picking experience is one I'll never forget ;-) XX

Jazzbumpa said...

This is a great story - all the better for being real. My dad told me once that when he was in England during WW II he fell asleep under a tree some-damn-where and woke up surrounded by cows. Don't remember if the was a bull in there anywhere.

But tell me true - was the bouncing really THAT painful?


Sarah said...

Ha ha JzB - I can assure you it WAS ;)