an abstract month

• collarme.com has added little pumpkins and spooks to their page banner; It is hardly hard-core fetish land.
• roasted meatball curry. It works, honest.
• Is is living it large in fast car, with well run boys, straight road all the way home.
• Shouting cans with an old webley. Reminds me of my first & fave porn dream: 2 women, spa, pistol, hot air
• i just want to go home
• high tension in the house. Hate this. Reminds me too strongly of my childhood.
• has been confined on a family outing all day and denied proper coffee. Grumpy time threatens.
• Walking the river at buckler's hard, where nelson's agamemnon was built.
• is eating pickled herring with a friendly cat hovering nearby
• bare legs in crashing white spume on cold beach. The headland looked wildly exotic backlit by milky sun. I expected macaws rather than gulls
• sick cat, sick kid. At least the sun is shining.
• so sleepy. You will find me in my bed, curled up warm and dozy, in about 3.5 minutes.
• Arne @ Poole harbour, walking through the woods with shouting stags, bounding hinds
• not cake baking, but sun baking.
• tomorrow: beach, or beach, or perhaps, beach. I love the salt on my lips.
• my bottom on the aga, glass of rose in my hand, pumpkin soup in my belly.
• a long promenade with scooters and hoods up against the stiff breeze, tempered by hot, low afternoon sun
• bright blue sky and cherry red trees at the seaside.
• it is not quite 6pm and i am already in my pjs. yeh!
• one of those I Wish I Could Start Today Again Days
• it worked! kitchen (and me) covered in streaks of snowy white meringue but cake looks fine.
• attempting 7-minute fluffy meringue icing for the first time.
• is making chocolate ganache buttercream before breakfast
• http://twitpic.com/mmwhf - *sssh* do you want cake batter? dive into my thick, glossy, chocolate goo ...
• i might eat something solid. All i've done today is suck lemon curd of a spoon and drink too-strong coffee
• my ex has an unconscious tick - he strokes his balls constantly while he talks to me. Drives me nuts.
• a quick fix: greek yoghurt with a little of the sugar syrup from a jar of stem ginger
• my social life has flexed its' considerable (but oft ignored) muscles this week .. i need a quiet friday night to recover
• p.a.r.t.y.
• someone close to me is having a tantrum. I need to move.
• holiday scrambled eggs and coffee. May get dressed, in awhile.
• a wobbly Bird Pose, balanced precariously on my hands with face skimming the floor will easily explain my bruised lips and stiff jaw.
• power yoga mid-morning warms and eradicates the kinks and unexpected aches of last night.
• it has stopped raining here in the West. Just sayin'.
• to make up for the burnt-toast disappointment, i now have 3 types of ice cream for supper.
• burnt toast sucks, especially when it was the last slice of the loaf.
• is walking bow-legged
• little things please me, for example; going commando all day just 'cos i'm too busy to put on a pair of knickers.
• juggling my CMYK
• "does it hurt yet?" he asks unnecessarily, and all i can do is grimace at him. He laughed.
• eschewing old-favourite lemon drizzle for the new and tender lip-tingling embrace of sour lemon cake.
• wishes i could be 6 yo and wear candy stripes up to my waist, pink boots and a short green smocking dress to skip along the high street.
• grey, drizzly days are perfect for sneaking back into a warm bed and playing 'hunt the dildo'
• bones are cold, so have both ovens full-on and baking.
• crying lots, but may just be the onions
• phase 1 of Stuffed Cabbage in the Troo Style involves peeling sausages as one might de-robe a meaty prawn: fun, but not pretty.
• folded, twisted then stretched and bent. Results pending.b
• "nice cake, mum" he says, sidling up to me, resting his head on my shoulder, "but i feel like i might need some more"
• still blushes when asked out on a date. How silly.
• experimenting with late-night lemon syrup mini loaf cakes.
• stroking
• gratuitous roundabouting + tuna sandwich = small child copiously sick on the front lawn (thankfully not in the car)
• Experiencing the dubious pleasure of saturday morning cinema. My coffee cost more than tickets for 3.
• drinking a large mug of home made Melange: honey and cinnamon sweetened coffee.
• Roasting friday-night chicken with fennel.

feed me

A pan of gluten-free rich and dense chocolate brownie rippled with vanilla cheesecake. The smoky cocoa hit is perfectly balanced with the sweet caramel mousse. Could this be my favourite cake fix?

Follow the links for the recipe








Have i mentioned how i like hurty sex?

It was a first for me tho', the slow realisation that my face was swelling, my lips uncooperative. In the mirror i am lopsided, unfamiliar. The left side of my mouth puffs up, taut and shiny, awkward to drink, peculiar to speak. I find my fingers shielding the stiffness self-consciously.

The ache does not stop me, in the absolute peace of the following dawn, from taking his cock deep in my throat once again.

lemon-almond muffins

The only cooking reference i have for these are some brief notes copied from a book read at a friend's kitchen table - i don't remember which book, or even the name of the cupcakes. I changed the principle flavour from orange to lemon, and swopped a flaked almond topping for a juicier icing.



2 eggs
90g caster sugar
grated zest of 1 lemon
80g gluten-free flour
80g ground almonds

Heat oven to 170ºC.

Whisk the eggs and sugar for 15 minutes (seriously), until thick and foamy.

Add the zest, ground almonds and flour and blend briefly.

Spoon into paper cases, and bake for 22 minutes precisely.

For the icing i added 2 heaped tablespoons of Very Ginger Curd to a batch of plain buttercream. The flavour is citrus with small delicate flashes of heat from stem ginger. The entire batch lasted about 20 minutes from oven to belly.













Tonight I have a particular cock in mind.

On my mind.

My jaw can still feel his shape, my cheek remembers the ache.

my new secret friend

Isn't he so cute.

I have to pop him in a cupboard for a few weeks, until it is time for santa to deliver him.

Yes, my breasts look unnaturally large from this angle, but it is because they are .. large.

sleepily

Today is about to become tomorrow and i am sitting here with a warm laptop on my bare knees, a gutful of Shiraz, attempting a complicated procedure in Photoshop, multitasking with twitter, iplayer and a headful of ideas.

I have been cooking all week, but almost inclusively practical and nurturing food that doesn't need posting.

I have been feeding family, friends. There was another at my table but he doesn't have a label, yet.

a date. cake

path

when he slides his hand along the serrated track of my bent spine, when his fingers transform from a wide paddle stroke to a pinching grip around the the scruff of my neck, my head bowed to the twist, then, reassuringly, i know i will feel the resulting ache of our efforts for days to come.

*

My husband and i exchanged details of our respective solicitors today. He is writing to mine to agree the grounds of the divorce.

It is a wide, open road.

flights of fancy

If there was a lover here, i would use him as conduit for my energies, expend my frustrations upon his body and chase the demons away with lustful laughter.

Instead, my respite is found in the pool, on a unexpectedly quiet midday. I follow the bright puddles from the parade of skylights along the length of the silent bath house, flying through transparency as a semaphoring Peter Pan. My only companion is my shadow, gilding the tiles below me with flicking, rippling sunlight.

Here is effortless and timeless; i swim until my fingers soften into a clumsy web and my shoulders throb. I don't leave the liquid warmth until the lunchtime swimmers arrive to break the still, crystal water and my illusions with their enthusiastic thrashing.

'Scuse me while i reminisce a little more.

My favourite meal from my Budapest holiday (part of the fun was determining, with my fellow diners, what was what):

a couple of small spoonfuls of light and creamy aubergine with a tomato tartare

Roasted Fois Gras on fondant potato with a beetroot syrup

Rack of lamb (perfectly pink)

on a slab of something very like a quiche Lorraine,

with a pistachio green celeriac puree (it may have had some kohlrabi in it).

A tiny morsel of goat's cheese with a scrap of parma ham,

on a wafer of french toast

(i had 2 pieces - thank you, you-know-who, for not liking goat, but NO, goat's cheese is not made from daddy goat .. doh)

A trio of chocolate

warm mocha creme (but no caramel),

white chocolate ice cream (wonderfully sour)

and a dark, dense chocolate truffle thing.

we drank Hungarian bubbles and some beautifully soft Hungarian Shiraz

postcards from Budapest

snippets from twitter, in reverse order.

• the ground rushes up to meet me in a grand, crashing fashion. Brace, brace, brace.
• a day of labyrinths and lamps, of pavement seating, pike-perch and paprika and the glare of a closer sun.
  
  
  
• The city has turned copper and gold and shades of opal beneath my window. Resting before evening activities begin.
• In my hill top perch, watching the river pass and the colour deepen, waiting, with fresh lemonade and my itunes for company.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• Am saturated with colour - the late summer dusty blue sky, the autumn foliage, the vivid plaster of the old city
• is going up the funicular
• *waves* to friendly twits via bareback budapest wifi. Today is a solitary one but loving the views x
• A little lost, but pleasantly so. I feel child like. With no language skill i rely on the kindness of strangers- i smile often.
• School children walk in wonky crocodiles through the city streets, cars stop to let me across the tiny crossroads. Love this city.
  
  
  
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• Honey, expresso, milk and cinnamon top. I have a view of the castle and my hotel across the danube
• The parks in pest are planted with green and purple basil. Am hungry for lunch
• I float effortlessly in the blue tinged water, my breasts bouyant and nipples breaking the surface of the pool. I feel free
• When the sun shines through the hexagonal ceiling tiles my naked body glows as cream and rose tipped marble statue
• In a 16th C turkish bath of terracotta streaked stone, lit only by dozens of skylights far above me in rotunda roof
  
  
  
  
• The city is geneva's grand aunt, tired and a little shabby but well ornamented in her heirlooms
• Heading down hill towards the river, following my toes. Many steps. Ladies only day at turkish baths, if i can find it.
• Browsing hungarian baking products, boy george playing over the tannoy
• Grey but majestic in buda this morning. Saw the city in medevial lights last night - all shadows and suggestions.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• Amazing hotel room built around a 13th century church overlooking pest, food next
• Delicious coffee in ba lounge, now rushing cos late for boarding
• The roof of terminal 5 is leaking.
• a slice of toast with smoked salmon, waiting for my pick-up. Almost forgot to pack a book to read.
• is packing for every eventuality

up and coming

A short ride up the Buda funicular, with a view over Pest. Not much action, but you will hear me speak, and see a ghostly image in the end frame. I was too tired to say much, having walked miles in the heat.

Budapest is a beautiful city in two parts; the old, on the hill up which the little tram is chugging, and ahead, on the other side of the Danube, is the commercial centre. My hotel was at the top of this hill. The domed church in the centre of the picture is ten minutes walk from the matching (in height) dome of Parliament House seen in the previous post, through my reflection in the window pane.

HNT/wishing i were still there

make. these. now.

... or at least this weekend, for a lazy breakfast.

So soft, so moist and slightly fluffy in texture, with a delicate creamy flavour (my mouth is watering as i write this). Strawberries would be a good companion, but don't wait if you can't get hold of fresh fruit - a little maple syrup is good too, and a dusting of vanilla caster sugar (don't listen to Nigella).

250g ricotta cheese
125ml semi-skimmed milk
2 large eggs, separated
100g plain flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
pinch salt
2 teaspoons groundnut oil




Put the ricotta, milk and egg yolks into a bowl and mix well to combine. See those orange streaks? Those are my lovely lady hen eggs again.

Stir in the flour, baking powder and salt and gently whisk to make a smooth batter.





Beat the egg whites until they become foamy – this isn’t hard work even, whisking by hand, which is all that’s needed here – and then fold the froth into the ricotta mixture with a large metal spoon.



Heat the oil in a large frying pan and drop in heaped dessertspoons of batter.

Cook the pancakes for about 1 minute until golden and then flip them over and cook for another minute. Mine were larger than the recipe suggested (i used a bigger spoon) and took a little longer to cook through, but no matter, i like my treats in big packages.

blackberry & apple crumble

My children fall into their beds every night, exhausted from school and from making the most of the warm afternoons at high speed.

Last night, leaving the little one to settle into dream land in peace, i climb into my bed with my eldest to read a chapter from Enid Blyton. It is a quiet and comforting 20 minutes that we spend every night, cuddled up together in a warm place while he drifts off slowly. Except tonight he is fidgety and keeps shifting awkwardly beside me.

"Mum" he complains, "what have you got under this pillow?"

And i gather him up quickly and take him off to his bed, a sudden flash of guilty recollection at hiding a threesome of bulky dildos under the cushions, evidence of an indulgent morning spent skewering myself vigorously.