Sunday, February 14, 2010

It's raining again


Man alive. Last weekend it rained and rained, and this weekend has been just the same but WORSE!
What to do on a wet Sunday afternoon? Break out the mother-in-law's china, get your 11 year old son to make his first ever batch of scones and indulge in a proper afternoon tea.
The scones were a first attempt triumph - better than anything I've been able to manage. Here's the recipe the 11-boy followed, from the Australian Women's Weekly Basic Cookbook, the cookbook I bought to teach myself to cook when I moved out of home circa 24 years ago, and one I still use:
Scones

2 cups SR flour,
2 teaspoons sugar
15g butter
1 cup of milk

Sift flour and sugar into a bowl, rub in butter with fingertips. Make a well in centre of ingredients and add almost all the milk at once. Using a knife,"cut" the milk through the flour mixture to mix to a soft dough. Add remaining milk only if needed. Turn dough onto a lightly floured surface and knead lightly. Pat into a disc approx. 2 cm thick. Dip a 5cm cutter (11boy used a glass) into flour and cut as many scones as you can from the dough. Gently knead the remaining dough again and repeat. Put the scones on a lightly greased tray and back for 15 mins or so in a very hot oven (240 degrees or so). Eat with butter, jam, and cream.

Meanwhile...
It was netball registration day for Miss 9 yesterday. As soon as I walked in the door I was targetted to take on the president's role (the current president had to step down for family reasons). I've already turned them down once - I can't think of anything I'd want to do less -, but they haven't been able to find a replacement, so the pressure is on.
I really, really, really don't want to do the job. I've had plenty of experience on committees, and unfortunately I find that my nature is always to take the path of least resistance ie. I end up doing everything rather than delegate jobs. This is a failing, I know, but because I know this I know I just don't want to be a president. Give me a specific job, I'm fine, but if that job includes rallying the troops I just couldn't be bothered. I'd rather do things myself than cajole and convince, and call in favours make phone calls (guess I'll never be a politician). As a consequence, I invariably become an unhappy vegemite. Now I'll just have to maintain my resolve as I sure I'm in for a bit of a campaign...

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