When Emma posted a honey spice face mask on her blog, I pinned it for later. Later being now(shock and awe, I'm actually doing something I pinned), heres me in all my dripping glory. This was after I finished baking honey biscuits (the honey and spice reminded me of this mask), Summer was asleep, and I was making coffee (in hindsight I should have had my coffee first). I can recommend it, my skin feels awesome.
It's freaking cold today and the useless twats at Harvey Norman, along with an LG rep, and their associated three ring circus, have just managed to get us our reverse cycle air con. At point of purchase (handing over the cash)it was going to be a week, it's now three weeks. I suppose after they get the money they couldn't give a fuck about where our only source of heating was. Hopefully our electrician has time to do it this weekend, that would be freakin nice. It ain't much fun waking up to 4 feckin degrees with a pissy little blow heater.
I had all the scenarios and one liners(mostly comprising of f words and shoving things up the dark side of their moon)going through my head last night when I went to bed, that would be delivered in the irate phone call, that some poor bastard at HN was going to be on the wrong end of. Luckily Brett got a phone call this morning to say it was here. Yesterday the LG rep said he was pretty sure it was on it's way, but he would have to comfirm it. WTF! We got free delivery, it will be here tomorrow.
Anyway back to baking honey biscuits. The recipe I used is a Stephanie Alexander one, out of the book 'Recipes My Mother Gave Me'. It's yet another book I got from a garage sale, if it were not for garage sales, I wouldn't have half the recipe books I have. This is the quote on the back of the book -
'My mother's most treasured possession
was her mother's recipe book...
as hers is mine,
and mine is my daughter's.
This is a lovely feeling.'
I started a handwritten book for my son a while ago with some of my recipes, it's still sitting up in the bookshelf (a work in progress), he's a good cook. A tear welled up when I wrote in the front of it -
I really should get another couple of note books and do it for the girls too. But then am I robbing myself of phone calls from them as I do with my mum, with questions about how do you make this and that, and how much. But one day I won't be here and maybe these little notebooks may be their treasured possessions.