Staying alive

Zzzz....  fiends, I'm wittering at you in the hope that it might keep me awake.  Typing this post is actually quite a feat in itself, given that I am horizontal on the sofa with a v. full belly and a purring kitten walking up and down my bump and across the keyboard.  (This is Truffle, who is not quite over the fact that  I have locked the catflap.) 

YES - it is time.  My kit-babies are finally allowed outside!  They've been allowed to venture into our back yard since yesterday, but are still a little timid and haven't tried scaling the fence yet to go further afield.  I expect it won'l take them long...  
 
Yesterday I watched James Martin making chocolate eclairs on telly and, being the world's most suggestible woman, decided to do likewise.  Mine turned out ok...  though rather huge.  Unfortunately I used a choux recipe from Raymond Blanc in The Guardian and it was a little too egg-heavy for my liking.  I should have stuck to my old faithful old Be-ro cookbook, which has never let me down on matters pastry-related.  I did ignore Raymond's crème patissière instructions in favour of a whipped vanilla cream filling, which suits me better - and I used some of the couverture I brought back from Bruges for the choc topping.  Overall, they were rather nom, but just a lil bit too eggy.
   
Today we saluted the sunshine with a lengthy river bimble through Twickers and Richmond with Helena in tow.  At one point we stopped off at a children's playground in Twickers, which is a veritable shrine to Mini Boden and full to bursting with panic-stricken 30-something parents shouting things like "Oh my god!  Molly, where is Matilda?  I can't see Matlilda!  Oh, it's ok, there she is..."   (3 feet away from where they left her.)
 
Afterwards we went for an early dinner at the child-friendly hell-hole that is Giraffe.  Have any of you ever eaten at one of these?  For years I refused to go near the place, having taken an active dislike to the orange plastic chairs, screaming clientele and general wipe-cleaniness of it all.  But, frankly, when you have a 2-year-old with you, all of those things that make you run for the hills suddenly become the very reason that it is a godsend.  Not only do the staff go out of their way to be friendly and provide for the whims of sprogletti, but the food is also a lot better than you'd expect.  This is especially odd when you look at the bizarre cuisine combos on the menu...  (today, the four of us managed to order a combo of Japanese, middle-Eastern, Italian and British meals.)   Mine was a fabulously healthy pile of fresh green vegetables and goats cheese, served on a flatbread, along with a fresh fruit smoothie that ought to have given Ruprecht his 10 a day.  Natalie had Teriaki Salmon, G had an enormous falafel burger and Helena had fish and chips.  And everyone declared that their food was pretty good.  So...  all in all, I've come to have a grudging respect for Giraffe.  Mainly, I'm just glad that somewhere better than MacDonalds is putting itself out there as a venue for informal eating with micro-people.  (Plus - it keeps them all out of the proper restaurants)
 
In other news, I'm quite pleased with my recent batch of handmade soap, which is the first I've made in years.  (For anyone interested, I blogged about it here:  http://susiefhandmade.blogspot.com/2011/03/feeling-soapy.html)
 

And finally...   I'm sure most people have by now watched the end of The Killing.  But I promise not to say anything specific, just in case.  Jeeps!  What a briliant series it was.  In truth I'm glad it's over, as it was high time to get to the climax, but I was nevertheless excited to see the teaser for season 2.  More Lundy knitwear to look forward to in the autumn... 

Oh woe... that stolen hour of weekend is killing me.  How the hell can it be 9pm already?  Ugh! 

And I still have to do the census...    tsk.

Spose I'd better get on with it.  Bye for now...