Utopia ... more creative writing

In last week's class we talked about imagery and our homework was to write a piece called Utopia. 

Call me an old (*sob*) cynic but the word Utopia makes me think of  a place where everything's perfect on the face of it but if you look closely it resembles 1984. Anyway, there are a couple of us whose writing is a  little on the dark side and when I said what my idea of Uptopia was, Ian said that we weren't to make it dark and it was to be the conventional understanding of the word. 



It’s hot. The sort of heat that makes your skin tingle and hits you like a wall when you step outside. I take a breath and hold onto my mask and take a giant stride. The water caresses me as I dive down. A deliciously cool respite from the heat. I look around in wonder as I float weightless in the deep wide blue. I gasp at the brilliant colour of the fishes as they dart amongst the delicate fronds of coral and grey hulks of rock, surrounding me, enticing me to join them in their dance. A silent cinema screen that I am a part of.

Two dives later and we’re lying on the top deck, searching out a coveted shady spot, lazily dreaming of ice cream and a cold beer. Chatting quietly, listening to the lapping water against the boat.

We head to the beach, the short boat trip can’t take more than a couple of minutes but it feels like a lifetime as we’re all impatient to be on land after several days aboard the boat, aching for a brief lull from the constant motion.

I don’t remember which island it was, but I can still feel the softness under my feet, see the dazzling brightness of the pristine sand contrasting with the deep turquoise of the sea. I can still smell the salty fragrance of the air.

I stand on the beach, struggling to take in the beauty that I’m surrounded by. The dark gray rocks strewn across the beach, jutting out of the sand and tumbling into the sea. Smooth and warm to the touch, providing no respite from the heat. The brightness of the sun makes my eyes squint. As I breathe deeply in, the air warms my body, heating my soul and as I close my eyes, I smile.  

Night falls. There is no light pollution. The stars are infinite, so bright against the darkness which envelops me. The lapping water is just background music now and I can only hear deafening silence. The air is still, gentle somehow, rather than the unrelenting heat of the day. I lift my head and stretch my arms wide to embrace the day.

Creative writing class

I'm taking a 5 week creative writing class through work. A proper real live published author is the tutor and there's only 8 people in the class and I'm really enjoying it. 

In the first class we did an exercise and we had to think of a place from our lives and then we took it in turns to think of a way of describing this place. For example, if this place was a part of the body, what part would it be? Others were if this place was a colour, what colour would it be, what kind of drink, what kind of food (yeah, that one was mine), what kind of car. 

At the end of the exercise we had a list of about 20 descriptions and our homework was to expand on this list and to use it as a base to write a story of 200-300 words
 
The place that I chose was the street that I grew up on in St Albans.

The Street 
The sky is clear, the wintry sun provides no warmth as the starched net curtains of the street twitch, welcoming the new arrival. The immaculately turned out housewives clutch their pearls to their throats as they strain to catch a glimpse round perfectly trimmed hedges. Lips are pursed and tuts almost audible as the front door closes.

These houseproud women neglect the vacuum and the dusting as imaginations work overdrive. Tea is drunk with cucumber sandwiches as the afternoon's event is disected, analysed. A full report is due as soon as the company cars arrive on the driveways. 

Phone lines buzz as calls are made, notes compared, opinions shared. I didn't think they'd really do it, I didn't think it was possible, those boys are bad enough, what were they thinking? The same comments resonate in houses up and down the street. The chattering classes are alive and well in the street and nothing draws neighbours closer than a feeling that the carefully crafted facade of perfect suburbia might be under attack. 

At her new home, she is blissfully unaware that her forever family is responsible for bringing down the tone of the neighbourhood. 


She cries. 

Welcome ... home.

Lists. Songs.

Lists. I like lists. 

I probably make a few a day, not all are committed to paper. Some are like my to do list at work, the week's menu and the resulting shopping list.

Others are just for me, in my mind and should never see the light of day.

We're on the way to the Pyes' house for lunch - armed with a bakewell tart and listening to Franz Ferdinand in the car (no Peter & the Wolf FTW). Take Me Out came on and I used the  word epic to describe it. I fucking LOVE that song but I don't think it would make my top 5.

Now I'm thinking what are my top 5 songs?

Today*, I think they are

I Feel Love - Donna Summer
Good Vibrations - The Beach Boys
Twisting The Night Away - Sam Cooke
True Faith - New Order
Missing - Everything But The Girl (Todd Terry remix)

I'm obviously feeling a little sentimental.

* on another day they could be completely different.

Eccleston & another birthday cake

If I'm really honest, the main reason why I haven't blogged for the last week is THIS MAN 

 
I bought Series 1* of Dr Who on eBay and wasn't allowed to watch it until Richard got home. Now he's home, we've been watching a couple of episodes a night. 

If I had one of those lists, Christopher Eccleston would be number 1 or 2, it's a tricky decision. The man makes my stomach go all funny. 

It hasn't all been about the Eccleston though, I also made a yummy birthday cake for my friend Amanda

Chocolate sponge with plain vanilla buttercream.

I'd seen lots of ombré cakes on Pinterest and wanted to try it. I didn't have enough butter to make the required ton of buttercream icing so I covered it in sugarpaste (fondant) and coloured the offcuts and used flower blossom plunger to cut out blossom  shapes. I added tylo powder and used tappits to make the letters.

I think Amanda liked it :) 

* in new money

lovely lovely Lemon Cake

so this is Richard's welcome home cake - lemon sponge layers with my Dad's homemade lemon curd and plain buttercream

the inside looks like this

Not wanting to blow my own trumpet or anything but it tastes GOOD. It's just a basic cake mix with lemon zest and lemon extract.

I am a bit anal about weighing things when I bake and I actually weigh the 3 large eggs, in their shells and use the same weight of butter (or margarine), caster sugar and self raising flour.

Basic Cake Mix

enough for a 6 inch cake like this one or 12 cupcakes / 16 fairy cakes / lots of mini cupcakes 

3 medium eggs

equal amounts of caster sugar, butter (or margarine) and self raising flour

1 tsp vanilla extract or grated lemon zest & ½tsp of lemon extract

3tbsp buttermilk - use milk if you don't have buttermilk, but do try and get some buttermilk.

Pre heat the oven to 160°c (fan assisted) / 180°c (normal) /  gas mark 4 / 350°f

Line your cake tin with greaseproof baking paper or line your cupcake tin with cake cases

Weigh your eggs in their shell and then crack them into a bowl - if any of, the eggs are a bit iffy or you get a bit of shell in the bowl, you can sort it out and it's easier than trying to fish them out of the cake mixture.

Weigh out equal amounts of caster sugar and butter and mix until creamy. 

Then, add the eggs a bit at a time. The mixture may look a little curdled if the eggs weren't at room temperature when they were added but it will be fine!

Add any flavouring and mix well. 

Sift the flour into the batter (I double sift i.e. sift the flour into a bowl and then sift the flour again  into the cake mixture) and then fold the flour into the mixture. 

Add the buttermilk and fold it in. As I said before, use (full fat) milk if you don't have buttermilk.The cake(s) will be fine but they just won't be as 'fluffy' and moist. 

Spoon the mixture into the tin or cake cases. I'll tell you a secret, if I'm making cupcakes, I weigh the mixture as I spoon it into the cases. Yes, I know I sound like a twat and I'm ridiculously anal but all the cakes all end needing the same cooking time because they're all the same size and they all rise the same amount.

Put the cake(s) in the oven 

a 6 inch cake will need 45 - 50 minutes

cupcakes will need 18½ minutes

fairycakes will need 16½ minutes

mini cupcakes will need 14 minutes

These times will vary, depending on your oven and things like how clean it is. If you bake or cook a lot, I thoroughly recommend that you get an oven thermometer. My oven dial is out by about 10°.

You can tell if they're cooked by touching the top - it should be springy. Or you can use a skewer to stick in the cake - it will come out clean or with a couple of crumbs on it if the cake is cooked.

 Whatever size of your cake, take it out of the tin and let it cook on a wire cooling rack. Make sure it is/ they are completely cool before you decorate it / them.