The shape of the pear

This weekend.
Pear shapes came and went with varying rapidity. And are still at it.
There was the birthday dinner for Fran's HF. Barney Bear decided to make a Jamie Oliver chocolate tart for the event. This went well until it became obvious that there was going to be more than twice as much pastry and filling than could be accommodated by an 11" tart tin. What to do with a whole tart and a half's worth of uncooked chocolatey stuff? the tart he made was brilliant though.
And so was the roast. But BB prepared it all and then went away to meet the others in the pub, leaving me in charge. All cool and calm I got on with it (in spite of a stressful half hour while he dithered about a) whether to go, b) when I should start cooking it and c) whether I would remember the stuffing).
They returned and suddenly my calm kitchen was full of small children and large questions. Like, when will we eat the starter? Where will we put the potatoes? Have we got enough plates hot? Which plates????
BB took over with a visible but inaudible sigh as of one who knew he shouldn't have left the little woman alone with the dinner and the wine. (the sigh was in a bubble over his head but he thought he was being patient and concealing his true feelings of exasperation and superiority - he does that). Really, we shouldn't share cooking*. It just doesn't work. He offers to help and then instead of doing what he's told, asks questions - often very apt and relevant ones unfortunately. It's so easy to see what the other person has forgotten!
Ok, so once we'd worked through our kitchen sharing issues, dinner was brilliant and both girls and all their partners and children were delightful and it was great. Youngest took over the serving of dinner while the issues were being sorted but pointed out that I couldn't rely on her doing so in future. (Ah if only she would - I love her:) There was a short period when BB got bossy about Fran's wedding plans but she bravely swallowed her fury and stood up to the inquisition without missing a beat. She's a good kid :) I love her :)
Well I love them all but when one of them confronts their Dad with such courage and humour I love them most of all :)
Later, blogger wobbled.
So, being somewhat tired and hung over this morning, I didn't get up in time to catch the frost before it melted but I did get up in time to go to a hill near Watership Down (as in the book) and saw marvels.
Then I went into town to see if I could get some inspiration for the swift approach of BB's birthday. This was a failure. I bought a book. I don't think it's really going to do the trick.
Then I came home and considered the left over chocolate tart mixture. In the end I made it into a lot of little chocolate tarts, BB's lunches for the use of.
While I was doing this, I attempted to down (up?)load today's photos of marvels.
Picasa threw a wobbly and they may all have vanished into the computer. Or may in fact simply have vanished altogether.
I'm not sure yet whether Picasa loaded them or just threw them away. Having told me it was going to compact the data base, it's now putting vanished stuff back in a totally random order so I've no idea if today's photos made it onto the computer or not. They certainly aren't on the camera card any more!
Meanwhile, HF's present which didn't arrive from Amazon in time is now on the way and so is one for BB which therefore will be in time.
The dinner's ready (tonight's dinner) but BB's not back yet. I'm ready for dinner but BB's not....
Picasa is still plodding through a million photos putting them all back. but I fear today's marvels won't be there.
The shape of the pear is flipping vertically every time I try something new and I'm really not sure if we're all going pear shaped or raep shaped.



*actually this isn't true. If I'm the sous chef it works fine. I get stuff out of the larder and wash dishes and produce required ingredients. I will say nothing about his qualities as a sous chef. Because it's quite probable that I'm not a very good head chef :) and anyway he doesn't like being ordered around.**
**no, neither do I but I don't think I make a fuss about it :)***
***well in some things you just can't be objective.