Well yesterday's celebratory birthday lunch was lovely, and well populated with the regular family cast plus a special visit from my cousin (who we later saw opening the telecast of carols by candlelight - wow! Check those frocks!) and her husband and my uncle and his partner visiting from way out West.
Nice food and conversation, nothing flash, just good honest get together. Even Wil was good. And people brought something to share, and nice things to drink and the cousins old enough to talk played nice and only made a moderately enormous mess. Highly satisfactory.
But here I am failing to heed my own advice, and the complicated desert has flopped, and the easy back up looks like a total mess and although I got very little sleep last night and Wil has cried all morning and I felt like doing the same (inevitably I have caught his disease and feel wretched), I am not having a quick nap now but waiting for the bread to bake and blogging to make use of those extra few units.
Not that you are merely a unit filler dear friends. It is just that I didn't plan a morning blog session. What with it being Christmas and all. And there's so much to do, but none of it compatible with this little slot of time.
And last night as I was lying in bed unable to sleep because I was coughing and worrying about the mess I left on the bench in the kitchen and how I was going to present it at a gathering and call it dessert, I was wondering to myself why, despite all the planning and foresight I still ended up baking at 11pm.
And the answer was clearly that undertaking the making of a complicated dessert simply takes more high density contiguous units that I have available to me at any time other than when everyone else is asleep.
Why didn't I realise this before?
Why did I not read the recipe thinking that juggling melting not one but three separate sets of ingredients over steaming water (one requiring constant whisking for 10 mines whilst melting then a further 10 minutes of whisking as it cooled) to be combined in a specific temperature controlled fashion would require 100% of my attention over an extended period?
And combined with the thrice sifted dry ingredients needing to be folded gently in with maximum lift and the perfectly whipped egg white meringue and the three stage topping to be applied at just the right moment as the cake cools, might be a little hard to orchestrate between doses of panadol (his not mine) and small child wrangling?
Not to mention the sheer number of dishes I had to dirty in the process - though to be fair how was I to know our dishwasher would die a wet death two days before Christmas?
Instead I looked at the picture and thought - that looks nice! Nothing there I couldn't do, I think I'll make that.
Because, clearly, I am an idiot.
Next year I think I may opt for KFC and a packet of tim tams.
Merry Christmas to you all, and to those of you who have things considerably more under control than me, well done.
And to those of you who are in the hole with me, don't worry, tomorrow it will all be over.