There is a sweet smell throughout the house. Every horizontal surface in the kitchen seems to be a little sticky. And there's enough white powder floating about the place to get the Colombian Army marching to the moon and back.
Katie's been baking again. She's agreed to produce cakes for our friends' wedding tomorrow. A few years ago this wouldn't have been a problem. You'd make a little cake, a medium cake, a large cake. And maybe a larger cake, if you wanted to go really wild. Icing, decoration, place them on top of each other like a sugary ziggurat, and Bob's your uncle.
But these days the individual cake is the fashion. Which is why I encountered the following when I opened the fridge this evening:
Yes, they're vanilla cupcakes with frosting. But there's something ever-so-slightly menacing about them, don't you think? Like a confectionery army.
I had to close the fridge door as I could feel myself contracting diabetes just by standing there.