"My mum will make that for you..."

Earlier this week, Izzy was invited to a birthday party. That's usually good news because, aside from the running around it involves, it then means a couple of hours Izzy-free. I love Izzy, adore her, even, but a couple of hours without her full-on Izzy-ness is always a good thing. A chance to recharge the batteries needed to cope with her, as it were. So, I was looking forward to 1.30pm this afternoon when I could drop her off and perhaps pop to Starbucks and study for a couple of hours. That plan went pear-shaped on Thursday.

On Thursday, Izzy came home from school telling me that her friend, M (the up-coming birthday girl) was going to be home alone all night because her mum had to work, and could we let her stay over with us. A quick call to M's mum revealed that M would not, in fact, be home alone because she was going to stay with her aunt but aunt lives on the other side of town which would cause problems for the morning school run. I mentioned that we were more than happy for M to stay with us, that way she and Izzy could walk to school together the next morning. M's mum happily agreed. Then, though, came the crunch...

"Oh, by the way, I'm so glad you called", she enthused, "I wanted to thank you for offering to make M's birthday cake for her! I hadn't sorted anything out and this is really generous of you."

What? To the best of my knowledge, I hadn't offered anything of the kind but as she continued with her effusive gratitude, a brief and vague conversation with Izzy filtered into my recollection. A conversation where Izzy had sort of asked if I could make a cake for M and I had pretty definitely said no. Somehow, between M and Izzy, my refusal to make the birthday cake (which was based purely upon the fact that I'm super-busy right now) had mutated into agreement. And now M's mum was involved and I could do nothing other than a stuttered confirmation that the cake was all in hand and no problem at all. Bugger.

So, on Friday, instead of pottering around the funky indie shops downtown (which would inevitably have involved a trip to the local indie yarn shop), Susan and I went to Michaels to buy fondant icing and food dye, and Kroger to buy cake ingredients. I sacrificed Malabrigo for eggs and sugar. This was not a happy moment in my life. Friday night saw me baking the cake instead of knitting--although I will confess that I compensated by baking a loaf of gluten free pumpkin bread (using this recipe) and at least the house smelled good.

This morning, after a brief breakfast of the aforementioned pumpkin bread (which was flippin' delicious, by the way, and definitely better for the addition of dark chocolate chips...), Susan and I set off on our regular Saturday morning trip to the Farmers' Market. One quick stop at Starbucks and an hour later we still hadn't reached our destination. Most of downtown Lexington appeared to be cordoned off for the race for life and we were stuck in the resulting traffic. A quick change of plan was required and so we instead spent the morning thoroughly redeeming our thwarted intentions by having a lovely time pottering around shops that we don't normally get chance to potter around. In part, we were searching for dried porcini mushrooms--Susan tracked down an amazing recipe for mushroom stroganoff a couple of weeks ago, which she made with the pitiful selection of dried mushrooms available in our local grocery. She wants to make it again with porcini mushrooms, a plan that I don't have any issue with whatsoever.

Our first stop didn't have the dried porcinis we needed but they did have some suggestions where we might find them. Two shops and a tub of olives later, we were still without dried porcinis. It seems that they just don't exist in our little city. Every other type of dried mushroom seems to be readily available (and in some cases ludicrously expensive) but not a single dried porcini was to be found. Anywhere. But we did have a delightful wander around, found a new deli/cafe that we hadn't known existed previously, and in the process stumbled into across a shoe shop that we've always known was there but had never been into before. These were in the window:



Yes, they're rain boots. I'd call them Wellies, but they're really not. And honestly, I have NEVER seen anything like them before. They're fabulous. We browsed the shoe shop for quite a while, actually, and I found myself ooh-ing and ah-ing over multiple pairs of shoes all, alarmingly, sensible. It seems I have hit that age in my life where sensible shoes are appealing to me. Most of them were well over the $100 mark but honestly, if I have to buy one pair of shoes a year that I can see myself wearing pretty constantly as I hike around campus, then I've now found the place to do it. These boots are going on my Christmas list, without a doubt. I wound up searching Amazon when I got home as I still have a $40 gift voucher left over from my birthday. They have these boots, but only in a size five. I am NOT a size five. But I did end up with these...


My justification (aside from the $40 gift voucher) was the fact that I wear a lot of brown. My justification for keeping the other pair on my Christmas list is that I also wear a lot of black and a lot of bright colours. Is two pairs of rain boots too many, do you think?

Back to the cake. The party was at 1.30pm today. At 12.00pm I was lounging on the couch ordering rain boots. Swift action was required. Rebecca's help was enlisted with the boring, messy bit--dying the fondant yellow--and between us we constructed something that I believe goes by the name Pichu and is apparently a Pokemon. This makes no sense to me whatsoever but apparently M is "into" Pokemon and this was her desired cake. By 1.30pm, Pichu was complete and Rebecca and I were in the car on the way to deliver said cake to said birthday girl. I admit to feeling rather righteously smug about the cake, even though I grumped about it all day yesterday and most of this morning. Ah well, I did get a loaf of pumpkin bread out of the deal and the knowledge that I'm now not just "Izzy's mom" but "Izzy's cool mom". There's something to be said for that when you're the kind of woman that shops for sensible shoes and plans to own two pairs of rain boots.

In closing, here's the damn cake. As for me? I'm going to spend the evening with with a head full of henna and my knitting. High living? I have it.