the thistle club

now see...i like nicked this wonderful piece of art off photobucket...
as i am sure this is "just not cricket" i thought i would add a copy of her ad to my blog...man, this chesire cat lady is talented!



the thistle club

the octopussian arms of the village are reaching out and testing my worth! before very long i will be an accepted part of the whole. one small step at a time...

friday i was drifting around the thrift shop, eyes peeled for a bargain. a successful day and all it was too. i found a wee shot glass which has measures for teaspoons and tablespoons...
now... how useful is that? and what's more it cost me only twenty pence!

quietly triumphant, i was about to escape with my booty, when...
one of the local ladies with whom i am acquainted hollered out...
"oy you, missus, do you bake?"

me...bug eyed and fearful..."you talkin' to me?"

local lady, advancing on me..."uhuh"

me, trapped beneath her piercing and questiong gaze ... "well, ummm, errr..."

local lady..." it's the thistle club you see, we're having our daffodil coffee morning tomorrow and we're in need of some homebaking"

you might well be wondering about the thistle club... or not, as the case may be...
the members of the thistle club work to collect funds to take the old folk of the village on a yearly outing. a day trip in the summer. off on a bus to some new place, where they will enjoy a wonderful high tea.

well...
i was cornered, there was no saying nay to this particular local lady. besides, shortly after i arrived in the village i had reached a conclusion...
cooperation equals inclusion!

do i bake?...not really. however, over the years (thanks to and excellent and easy recipe supplied by my niece) i have learned to produce a pretty mean melk tert. yup...that would do the trick!

fridays from two till four i help out a little at the drop in club downstairs. i am actually in training to become an assistant!
ah yes, my infiltration of the village hegemony is well underway. ;-)

so...at afternoons end, i leaped into my rav, shopping list shoved into my back pocket. now, i had most everything i needed, what was required were some disposable, aluminium pie plates. i walked the town...nothing! how can the people of ayrshire continue to exist? at the local asda, i found the pie plates, they contained a ready cooked pie shell. very handy, but i make my own pastry, of which, i am inordinately proud. the hour was growing late and i decided to cover my arse and buy them in case. needless to say... i had zilch luck in the pie plate search.
interesting...back home in south africa, every little shop stocks 'em...
basic cultural difference?
i feel a thesis coming on... " a study of the comparative ease of shopping for disposable pie plates in south africa versus scotland".

anyway... live dangerously, i used the purchased pastry shells...my, my...how low can you go...
making a melk tert without having to make the pastry is a piece of cake! will i ever feel the need to search for empty disposable pie plates again...

come saturday, ten o'clock, i toodled up to the village hall, balancing a pie plate on each hand. it was drizzling (scots style) and the wind was blowing but i made it to my destination, safe and sound. handed my contribution over, paid my £1.50, made a tour of the tables and bought myself a bottle of home made apricot jam, a loaf of gingerbread and some raffle tickets. i then sidled over to a table with some vaguely familiar faces.
the table was laid out with a variety of cream cakes, fruit loaf and ginger bread ...yummy.

well... it was a good morning, all in all. i enjoyed my coffee, managed to wolf down two cream cakes and a slice of gingerbread. however delicious the tea was... it was nothing in comparison to the delectable conversations going on around me. i have long suspiciousned that there may be more to our wee village than meets the eye.
and indeed... there is!
the gossip, the undercurrents, the humour and ah man...the character assasinations!
This place is a book waiting to be written, every villager whispers...write me!
change the name of the village, change my name...no imagination needed...the story is already living and breathing, it only needs to be recorded. perhaps a sitcom...? then..."the movie"...
fame! more money than i know what to do with!
any one out there want my autograph now?