Little Matty’s Christening – and a bit of cupcake tower trauma
So after promising my lovely cousin, Moon and his wife Miska that I’d make cupcake towers for Mattie’s Christening, I’ve been having Laura-like cupcake anxiety dreams for the last week – nightmares about everything from collapsing towers to rock-hard icing have plagued my sleep. I was almost glad when Saturday arrived and I could stop worrying and get on with it. Brace yourself, then, a few gazillion photos to follow…
When I’d asked Moon and Miska what they wanted, they said ‘really bright colours’, so I chose base buttercream colours in violet, tangerine, lime and ice blue, topped with flavoured fondant in chocolate, sherbert lemon, fizzy orange and strawberry (not too much pink, obviously). I spent a nice relaxing couple of days cutting out loads of stars and circles and also made some stars on ‘springs’ made of florist’s wire to dangle over the edge of the towers.
I was a bit disappointed as the fondant dried considerably lighter in colour, but hey, I decorated some of the stars with very dodgy ‘M’s and pearlised white writing icing and sprinkles and was quite pleased with the end result:
I then spent a very sweaty couple of hours in the kitchen baking the vanilla cupcakes, then mixing up the buttercream in batches and blending it with the colouring paste.
After the buttercream icings were completely chilled, I whipped them up again and piped them directly onto the cooled cakes. I did some with traditional swirls, some with little star clusters and a few ‘turds’, as my lovely son nicknamed them. It started to go slightly wrong at this stage because the kitchen was so hot that the buttercream was starting to melt, so after a quick panic call to my Dad, he arranged for me to get into the venue and we transported all the cakes into their fridge – just in the nick of time.
The next morning I went and decorated all the cakes in situ and I have to say I left for the church feeling really proud of myself. The buttercream stayed really vibrant, and it didn’t seem to matter than the fondant was slightly lighter in colour:
The actual Christening was wonderful. Little Matty behaved so well and the Vicar was really lovely:
Everyone was so nice about the cupcakes and I absolutely adored watching this little girl concentrating so hard on choosing which one she’d have:
Matty was an absolute trooper, giving constant smiles and cuddles to everyone…
He showed off his walking:
and even gave his Dad a quick round of applause after his speech:
The hubster popped in to say hi on his way back to work:
And I was so proud of my fellas and my beautiful niece Lu, who were a great laugh and absolutely lovely company:
A special thank you to Helen at Aardvark Cakes for emergency Twitter panic support and her invaluable help and advice.
Also big thank you to Renshaw for the lovely flavoured fondant (my favourite was the lemon sherbet!). Check out their amazing website: http://www.mybakes.co.uk/
Recipes:
The cupcakes were just basic vanilla sponges made in batches of 6 eggs (weighed in their shells), then equal weights of butter, caster sugar and self-raising flour. Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy, then beat in the eggs a little at a time. Add 2tsp vanilla extract and then stir in the self-raising flour. Spoon into 24 muffin cases (1tbsp mixture into each) then bake at 180/gas 4 for about 20 mins. NB: if you add a tray of water into the bottom of the oven, the cupcakes stay nice and flat on top.
The buttercream was 500g butter and 1kg icing sugar (per 24). Cream the butter then gently add in the icing sugar and a splosh of milk and beat until soft and fluffy. Add in about 1/2 tsp of colouring paste (use less for pastel colours), beat again, then refrigerate. Before piping, whip until soft.
Moon’s amazing photo: next stop Photographer of the Year!
So I LOVED this winning photo from the 2009 Veolia Environmement wildlife photographer of the year:
Animal Portraits category winner:
The storybook wolf by José Luis Rodríguez (Spain):
But howsabout this shot of Moon’s? Next year, Moon, you’re in the running!:
Love this one too:
The Friday wedding spesh: the gory details
Okay, so obviously as usual I have to maintain the mystique which means you don’t get to see ALL the shots (email me if you want any more), but I’ve picked out the best moments of our day for you to see. From the top, then:
Mable the Merc gets a pink moustache (thanks Moon!):
Moon and Ali being very silly, part 1. It took me about 14 increasingly cross texts to get them out of the pub, too:
The boogie down the aisle (thanks to my adorable niece Lu for these pics). For some reason I seem to have ‘the claw’ with me again. And corr I could seriously ‘out’ some anonymous bloggers with these photos… you know who you are!!!:
The beautiful cake, forever to be known as the ’6am cake’, as that’s the time she finished making it on the day. ‘One day, the full story of that bloody cake will come out’, said Jen’s other half. Oh, do tell! But seriously, how gorgeous is it? God job, Jen, good job (and there’s that claw again):
Our first dance:
Mad Uncle Ali whirling me around the dance floor (you know it’ll end in tears):
…’erm Alg, you’re going a bit fast…’:
The moment it all went horribly wrong (look at his face, he’s going ‘Sis, what are you doing down there?!’):
Two really ugly gatecrashers. Oh no, hang on, it’s Moon and Mad Uncle Alg being very silly, part deux. Moon later decided that to ensure his lift home didn’t leave without him he would steal Mrs Lovely’s shoes. Every time I saw him after that he was guarding the shoes zealously. It worked, though, they got him home, where me Ma was exasperated with the giggly silly buggering about. Kids, eh?:
And here I am wearing my wedding present from Disney. I couldn’t persuade Hubby to wear his top hat mickey ears, sadly:
Well, it wouldn’t have been the perfect day without a little Disney magic, now would it:
‘Sun rays for your eyes only’
I’ve really struggled writing this post. It’s 10am on a Saturday morning and I’ve been writing and re-writing (and mostly deleting) since 8am when I finally got up, having laid awake editing and re-editing in my head. It’s important to me, though, so bear with me.
If you’re a regular reader, you’ll know that in September, the Hubby and I are planning on renewing our vows. I have complicated views on religion, as you’ll know. I wrote this post back at Easter last year, and I think it sums my feelings up fairly well:
When I say I’m not religious, I don’t mean like an atheist or anything – that’s too strong. I went to church when I was a child, sang in the choir and all that, but I don’t know, somehow it’s just not for me. I’m all for anyone else believing in anything they like: God, miracles, fairies, Santa, whatever. Don’t shoot me, but I’m just one of those people that’s not good at abstract ideas. At the risk of sounding too much like a Vulcan, it’s all too illogical for me, I’m afraid – believing in something that can’t be proved, crediting something invisible every time something goes right, and then not blaming them when it goes wrong?? Nah. Too complicated. As Charles Darwin said, ‘I cannot persuade myself that a beneficent and omnipotent God would have designedly created that a cat should play with mice’. Fair point, methinks. Still, I have the utmost respect for everyone’s religion and find it all fascinating. I think if I was going to be anything, I’d be a Buddhist – they seem a nice gentle bunch. But then as a self-confessed spider murderer that’s probably not for me either.
So these feelings of, well, confusion, led to me writing this when it came to celebrating our day together. Although I look back on it now and think, well, that’s not really how I feel either.
Anyhoo, the upshot of all of it was that Craig, the Church of Ireland Rector, read my blog and came to see us. You can read all about it here. He was even inspired to write his own blog, Rambling Rural Rector.
He didn’t give up on us, though, oh no. In fact, I’d go so far as to say we’re becoming friends. He stopped off at English Towers the other evening to talk about the blessing, and it turns out we have loads in common – we’re parents worried about our children, earners worried about the recession, fellow villagers worried about the teenagers out late on the streets… ’I don’t think you’re an atheist’, he said, and I think he’s right. I just don’t know what I am. The other day I sent him a link to fellow blogger K8 the GR8′s amazing piece The Secret Fire. If you’ve never read it (you should – do it right now), K8 talks about:
’…Tolkien and his inspiration for his many amazing stories, and how he believed that God speaks to us not through prayer and sacrifice, but through music and nature… secret zephyrs and sun rays for your eyes only. When we feel inspired by these things, or feel raised goosebumps on our skin as a result of something beautiful, this is God speaking to us’.
This is how I feel! I told him. The other day, Bert and I were in the little churchyard, with the beautiful old church looming grey and silent behind us. There’s a family of rabbits under one of the pine trees and a teeny rabbit lolloped out across a grave and sat washing its ears, unaware that I was watching (and that Bert was imagining him in a small furry pie). The sun came out and there we sat, bathed in unusually warm sunshine, Bert’s head resting gently on my lap. I can’t get my head round the idea of God, white bearded, sitting on a cloud, or like in Bruce Almighty, being overloaded with people’s prayers, and deciding who wins the lottery and who falls under a bus (or like K8 the GR8 told me, she likes how he’s portrayed in South Park). But in moments like that, warmed by the sun, the bluest of blue skies overhead and in that beautiful setting, I felt such peace and happiness. If that’s how God feels, then I’m in, believe me.
And if my cousin Moon‘s amazing pictures from his recent trip to Canada are anything to go by, I’m sure he felt the same on this magical day:
My lovely cousin’s having a hard time at the moment. So send some good vibes his way or, if you’re that way inclined, say a prayer for him. I’m sure they’ll get there, one way or another.
And the blessing? Well, I can’t give too much away, but it’ll be filled with flowers, fun, music, laughter, family and friends old and new. You never know, God might even put in an appearance…
The friday photo: the new Mr and Mrs Moon
So I know I’m biased, but isn’t this just the most beautiful picture? What a handsome couple, eh? And that bum! Moon said ‘do you fancy my Missus?’ and I said ‘well really, could you blame me? She’s gorgeous!’. Congratulations, you guys.
Oh and I love this one. Mrs M looks like she’s saying ‘hmmm… I wonder if it’s too late to change my mind’!! This was the bit where the photographer had to keep going ‘Moon! Look at her face!!!’.
PS: Oh and if you haven’t already, you must pop over to Moon’s blog and read all about it.
PPS: And by the way, these beautiful photos were taken by the lovely Bex: Rebecca Fennell Photography who comes very highly recommended. Email me if you require contact details.
Moon and Mrs M’s Wedding: belly laughs and happy tears
Firstly can I just say that I hate Ryanair? Hate, hate, hate Ryanair. I know, I know, it’s dirt cheap and all that, but when you’ve walked miles, queued for hours and then find you can’t sit anywhere near your children in a hot, sweaty cabin and there’s no room in the overheads for your hand luggage? Grrr, I could kill that feckin’ Michael O’Leary.
Awwww, we had such a lovely time. We went out for dinner with the Disreputable One when we arrived on the Friday night (after he picked us up from the airport in his swanky new 4×4 – thanks Dad!), then stayed at me Ma’s for the weekend. Arriving in the pub before the wedding was fantastic, seeing all my friends and family, my much-missed sisters in law, my lubly brothers, my beautiful nieces and big strapping nephew was just amazing. The church service was surprisingly emotional although I have to say that it was the adults that did the naughty giggling – the kids all stood together and shot us withering glances as we misbehaved – it was Hubby’s fault, he did silly singing, and then some little teeny girl went ‘I WANT A WEE!’ in a really loud voice which set us all off again. All went swimmingly apart from some rather bizarre parental goings on (note to my parents: I love you both madly but jaysus, go out for a coffee together and sort yourselves out already).
Mrs M looked absolutely stunning in a slinky green silk fishtail dress – I don’t care what anyone says there wasn’t a single pair of eyes that weren’t glued to her fantastically peachy bottom as she walked down the aisle.
The evening bash was full of fun and laughter. We had a total riot and the boys had loads of fun with their cousins. Mad Uncle A behaved himself (almost) – actually, Sensible Uncle I was just as naughty – and Mrs Sensible was challenging Hubby to down shots of Mrs M’s traditional 80% proof fire-water. Wow, it took your taste buds clean off.
Moon gave the longest, most boring speech I’ve ever heard (nah, not really – he made me cry twice which is probably a record) and then we all clinked glasses and shouted ‘Nastrovya!’ and downed the traditional Slovakian shot things (wow!) before stuffing our faces at the buffet, then dancing the night away. The Slovakian contingent held their own admirably in both the drinking and the falling over on the dance floor, but in true English fashion, it was all wrapping up by midnight – in Ireland we’d only just be getting started!
We rounded off a manic but happy weekend with one of my Ma’s epic Sunday lunches and then it was back to the airport with our Disreputable Chauffeur for another wrestle with our hand luggage. We arrived home, tired but elated, to find an ecstatic Bert who sang us a little whiny song, he was so happy to see us.
Highlights of the weekend, then:
- Stealing me Ma’s car and rushing round to my friend J’s beautiful new house to catch a glimpse of scrumptious little J and her new baby, M, who I’ve never even seen – we both stood and burst into tears, which made us laugh.
- My mate, C, taking the time to pop to the church to wish Moon luck and say a quick hello to me and Hubby (I wanted to cry again – I’m getting old, I think)
- The photographer shouting ‘No! look at her face!’ when Moon’s gaze kept wandering downwards
- My nieces, who have turned from cute little girls into beautiful young ladies.
- Above-mentioned niece, A, being bribed by Sensible Uncle I’s mates to balance sachets of mayonnaise on the head of Moon’s brother-in-law who was asleep in the corner after coming over all ‘tired and emotional’
- Boogying on the dance floor with my boys, me Ma, Mrs M and a gaggle of her Slovakian mates
- The scary amount of people who came up to me and said ‘ooh, I read your blog!’
- Moon, staggering around with a box of Montecristo cigars saying ‘this is the happiest day of my life’ in a somewhat slurry fashion.
So there you have it. A lovely weekend, a perfect wedding, and a very deserving couple. Here’s to you, Moon and Mrs M: wishing you a long, happy and very giggly life together. Mwah!
Visit the Moon. No, seriously…
So after the success of his guest spot, my lovely cousin, cheekiest commenter and all round good guy, Moon, has decided to branch out into the wonderful world of blogging web diaries (Grandad says we’re not allowed to call them blogs).
We’re a pretty far-flung family – there’s Moon in the USA, his sister in Canada, the rest of our random siblings back in various counties of the UK (Mad Uncle A is often hard to track down – up to no good no doubt) and me and Hubby here in rainy Ireland, so it’s quite handy to be able to find out what they’re up to at the click of a mouse.
He promises to make you laugh/make you cross/make you cry (delete as appropriate) and there’s even talk of boobs and sport for those of the gentlemanly persuasion (although I don’t see why boobs should be just a manly subject – I love a good boob conversation as you know). He might even finally put to bed that whole rumour about him being made of cheese.
Anyhoo, pop over and say hi at Rambling Thoughts of Moon. But then come back. I might get lonely.
GUEST BLOGGER DAY: In which Moon gets greenish fingers too
And so, laydees and gennlemen, without further ado, I give you the wondrous, the gorgeous… Moon!:
Hmmm, what an honour, a guest blog spot! I am now under immense pressure to get some decent comments like EM does everyday… a lot to live up to!
Well, I thought I might enlighten you into what has happened recently in our abode in Newport Beach, CA. We rent a small house with a reasonable garden or ‘yard’ as the locals like to call it. The beautiful and recent Mrs M has green fingers, and is VERY environmentally aware, being a solar panel engineer (raised eyebrows from most men in the engineering industry, before their eyes settle on her lower assets!!)… she has demanded change in my life! Other influences to a slightly lesser degree come from EM and my sister Bugs…… you will see from photos below what I mean …..
So, to the changes ….
Mrs M: You need to lose weight…..
Me: What ????????
Mrs M: Also, we are going to spend a small fortune changing the garden….
Me: Can we tarmac it ? I know some lads……
Mrs M: Ok, and no sex ever again for you!
Me: Ok, just call me Alan Tichmarsh, where do we start ?
So, we decide on two approaches, first project, a la EM, a veggie patch. Now bearing in mind the wonderful weather we have, it should be very easy to become Mr & Mrs Good and become self sufficient, but first comes the building process, easy I think: three boards, some digging, and Bob is your mothers brother….mmm, try asking me that again after digging for 3 hours in the heat: sodding, bloody, *%**#ing thing, I am going to buy ALL our veg from the supermarket !!!!!, but, I am very proud, we got there… and we are ready to plant …. proper radish that is actually hot to taste, carrots that taste of carrots…the list goes on .. mmmmmmmmm.
So, that project finished, Mrs M decide on some flowers and other bits … oh great, can I please deposit ALL of my wages direct to Home Depot… but we decide to take a slightly different route and head for the more expensive, but morally better, local garden centre. I think I am a patient man, with a pretty good sense of humour…. clearly not !!!… How many *%#*ing different plants am I expected to look at ? Red, blue, yellow… do they die, do they need sun, shade, talking to …. ??? I don’t know and I don’t care! Mrs M does … so apparently do I. Some 104 year old lady, smelling of wee, gives us some sound advice, removes $240 from our wallets, and we trot back off home with more species of flowers and plants than the Amazon, to even more hard work!
But, I have to admit, Mrs M does have wonderful ideas and green fingers, she has transformed the ‘yard’, and I am incredibly impressed, she was also help by our neighbour who seems to like offering his advice, except for one thing, I am out there, shirtless (yes, I know I burn just reading The Sun… but it was bloody hot!), breaking my arse off digging .. any help, advice ? Not a chance. Mrs M goes out in her bikini… Bingo… who appears, a la Mr Ben but Mr ‘Next-door-neighbour-my-those-are-both-spectacular-oh-you-want-me-to-look-you-in-the-eyes’ …..?
So, to our third project, a composter. Here comes advice and motivation from DBM, I was imprisoned in her basement for three months over Chrimbo, and I was taught there, a bit like slopping out, to recycle my organic waste too… so coffee grinds, veggies etc, into a small special bin under the sink… sounds easy… “but that’s a very small bin” I think, ….Mr. DBM then allows me outside into the exercise yard to dump the waste into the Dalek at the end of the garden. Smells like poo to me, but apparently it works really well, so the next conversation goes like this ;
Mrs M: Right we are off to Home Depot
Me: Now ?
Mrs M: Yes
Me: But Nadal is about to serve for the match in the game of the century
Mrs M: No sex ………….
I’m in the car with the engine running …….
Me: Can we give some more money to Home Depot Please ?
Mrs M: sarcasm is the lowest for of wit ….
Me: Arse!
So, we get there, and ask the ever helpful people in lovely orange aprons: “where can we find a composter please”… blank look… Nope, don’t have any…grrrr, but we have things to build one …. So I casually mention my fathers DIY skills (previously mentioned by DBM) to Mrs M… ‘do they sell blu-tac?’.. She pushes me out of the store in a hurry. So we have to contact the local authorities, and they will send us one for $20, all reasonable to me!
So there you have it, the back yard is now an Oasis of wonderment….An open invitation for all to visit.
She has plans for a water feature next …. how do I get out of that ????????Moon.
What I done on my holidays by Moon, aged 36 and 3/4
This, laydees and gennlemen, is my stunningly attractive cousin, Moon (gorgeousness runs in the genes, see?), doing something with a Beluga. And no, I don’t know what a Beluga is either. Any snorty remarks along the lines of ‘which one is the whale?’ will be severely dealt with. Now, Moon, if you’d like to come up and stand at the front of the class and tell us exactly what you’re doing here…
