Cake redux, knitting, hospice update

Thursday found me waking at 6 am all refreshed, but deciding that getting up at that hour was really unnecessary, so I caught a few more zzzzz's before getting up to go to Stitchery group.
We were back at our usual location at J's on Maida Vale with Cassidy the dog and an unusually large group of stitchers.

I was able to report to them (and you, dear reader) that I had sold a few small items at Tuesday's St. John's Wood Women's Club Member's Marketplace (too much alliteration, but that's what it is). Two beaded wool brooches, the long purple shawl "Harvest Home" in autumnal shades, and I can't remember what else. None of the beaded shawls sold, too bad, but they are available for purchase by the devoted readership!!

Having over-knitted in the past week getting ready for the show, I decided to take it easy and work on the small needlepoint I purchased in NYC while I was there, called "home is where the heart is". I did miss my flat on Abbey Road containing Hubster and Teeny, and all my walks around the neighborhood while I was away from them, and thought that purchase was a good way to keep focused on the goal of returning to them with visa in hand.

After three pleasant hours of Stitchery, I took off on foot for the Home Base store up in West Hampstead near Finchley Road. I had a pleasant walk northward in the rainy mist. This is a kind of precipitation for which it is hard to dress. It's not really raining, so the raincoat is not necessary. The umbrella is useless, as the mist seems to come sideways at you while you are walking. So you just amble around in your hooded jacket, but with the hood up you can't look over your right shoulder properly to check for any buses that might be materializing just as you start to cross the side street. The only solution is to keep the hood down and let the mist gently frizz up your hair as well as spot up your glasses.

Operation Home Base included procuring lots of little light bulbs for various light fixtures in the flat. While there, I also bought a few other householdy-things. The store is a cross between a Home Depot and a store that sells small appliances and home decor items like candles and dried arrangements. I stayed out of the garden shop and avoided all the Xmas decorations. On my walk I had noticed that lots of potted, 4 foot tall evergreens had been placed outside of buildings. Around the pot rims were red cyclamens, as the hard frost has not hit here yet.
I resisted all the cheery pointsettias, and looked in vain for a package of "dishwasher salt" to reduce the lime deposits and general gunkiness in the dishwasher. There was nothing of the sort to be seen.

While at the checkout, I asked the helpful young man if they sold "dishwasher salt". They did, he said, down past the lumber. Did I need a large quantity? I had just figured it came in a box or jar or something. What was a large quantity? No sooner had these words left my lips than a woman approached with a cart ("trolley") FILLED with four BAGS of dishwasher salt. These bags were larger than the large sacks of ice-melting salt that we buy in New England. They must have weighed fifty pounds each. Either this gal does a LOT of dishes, was buying them for some industrial application, or has a water-softener system for the whole house (see Lunch at John Stuart Mill's House posted previously).

As it was nearing 3 pm by this time I set out from Home Base to catch a bus that deposited me right on Circus Road near Sir You-Know-Who's house and the Dangerous Hospital Driveway. I managed to make it the rest of the way home without incident, except for the realization that the annoying dry sensation in my mouth really was an oncoming migraine. I retired to bed with a pill for a short nap, and awoke to make us sweet and sour pork for dinner.

Tomorrow will be Tidy Friday and Baking Day.

Oooh!! Cake Update. Last week I went through the hospital corridors to get to the pharmacy (see migraine pill above) and saw the Famous Fabian, Blogstar. He had been looking for me to say how much he enjoyed the sour cream coffee cake that I had delivered to Reception before I left for the US. I don't think he realized that I had been away from London. He was so effusively enthusiastic about the cake, which he reported that he had NOT shared with Dr. D or anyone else except one other receptionist, that I was inspired to bring around another baked creation. This time, I tried a new recipe introduced to me over the summer by Brother-in-Law Tom, that of Texas Sheet Cake. I added a few extra ingredients and renamed it Mayan Sheet Cake. I kept one round pan for us, and brought the other around to the hospital around 4 pm.
Alas, Fabian had gone home for the night, but the receptionists on duty were only too happy to take it off my hands.

I went back on Monday to collect my pan and saw Fabian. He was disconsolate that he had missed the Mayan-inspired creation. His co-workers had called him at home to tell him about it, and he said he was almost tempted (on a Friday evening) to turn around and come back. It's probably a good thing he didn't, as I hear that the cake was inhaled by the other staff, once again NOT including the ubiquitious doctor. I guess he's not so ubiquitous after all, as he has not been in the right place at the right time for the past two cakes.

If I get my homework done on time, I shall attempt another caking. If not, I'll bring it around on Saturday morning, when I have to go over to the hospital for.... Hospice volunteer training. That's right, you heard it here first. My "CRB" (Criminal Record Check) form has made it through the system and I am in proud possession of an official-looking certificate which states that I do not have a criminal record!! Now I can be enrolled as a hospice volunteer, which is something I planned on doing here since the move was first formulated. The training will be about cultural sensitivity. The book the in-laws just sent us, called "The Anglo Files" by Sarah Lyall, will come in especially handy!