Thank you everyone for your love and best wishes for my brother. They finally sent him home on Friday night after a day of various mishaps which are just too depressing to go into here.
He is not doing so well, unfortunately. He still has a lot of pain and is passing blood, neither of which symptom seems to be easing. If he is no better in the morning I suspect the next few days will be increasingly medical again.
It’s been a tough few days what with one thing and another, and although I am usually one of those buoyant sorts who soldier on and screw my courage to the sticking post etc, I confess to having been a bit battered by the last few days. I am still feeling rather overwhelmed by things and feeling a bit tearful.
I am self medicating with cake. It does seem to be helping.
I am also thinking hopeful thoughts about The Great British Bake Off.
For those of you who are new to the blog I must inform you that GBBO is the highlight of my blogging year. Political outrage, feminist ranting and fart jokes are cast aside in favour of signature bakes and the flapping of tent canvas.
To be honest it’s mostly just the highlight of my year, blog or no blog. I watch virtually no television at all these days, but Bake Off must not be missed. It is sacred.
I am already getting excited about Paul’s disdainfully piercing gaze, Mary’s drinking habits and the promise of floral bomber jackets to come. I am misty eyed at the thought of Mel and Sue’s terrible puns, the shots of squirrel genitalia from the sugared up cameramen and the throbbing of the pastel coloured mixers, beating in unison.
I cannot wait to see what ridiculous cakes they have invented for the technical round, and I am hoping for at least one Heston style madly inventive baker who insists on using washing machine lint, essence of kumquat and goose fat to make the hanging gardens of Babylon out of macarons.
I have the whiff of icing sugar in my nostrils. It’s the only thing keeping me going.