Madeleine

Here are madeleine-shaped holes which, all being well, will be ripe with warm, tea-dunkable madeleine sometime this afternoon. The "dough" (read buttery, sugary, almondy goo) is resting in the fridge and so I'm trying to discern how on earth a pilgrim's scallop differs from a layman's or an agnostic's scallop.

This is not just a box...

This is a mid-tan, small packet-postable, single-corrugated cardboard box, precision-cut by a papermill in Hampshire, carefully transported 350 miles by a private, trackable signed-for courier service.

It costs 52p, including delivery.



This is not just a box, it's indicative of a world gone totally, totally cuckoo.

Deconstructionism

This is the beautiful Bridlington crab, dressed by Mr Moo, that I - first photographed - then ate for lunch the other day.



Undoubtedly, it is a significant improvement on the original axiom/design for a crab which is both cumbersome and wilful.



Fran-kitten thought so too.

Woolfest II

An evening (more about that another day) with the excellent folk of Knit Club reminded me that I had yet to do a second post on Woolfest. The title "Woolfest I" does, after all, imply a sequel if not a trilogy. So, here's a felted pig they had...



...and a Picasso-esque (pair of) deconstructionist ram...



and, also, rabbit which can, with a deft hand and a pair of scissors, also be sheared to make wool...

Pirates

Today, we went to Bridlington, to eat lobsters tails and fish 'n' chips on the harbour where, on a whim, we also seized upon the opportunity to take a ride on a pirate ship. Of course, it wasn't a real pirate ship: the captain was not schooled at Eton; the sails did not billow menacingly; and it was not manned by cursed sailors doomed to serve there for an hundred years in a state that fell between life and death...

But, in the middle of all this pretence for over-excited children, there sat a rather elderly man. Of course, he looked like an unassuming pensioner but there was something in his steely blue eyes, something in the way his body adjusted constantly to the gentle waves, something in the way his hands gripped at imaginary rope, that spoke of his true nature.

When he paid his fare with a galleon rather than a pound coin I knew for sure he was a pirate. And, as he looked at the decidely unscary Jolly Roger, a silent smile betrayed a lifetime of swashbuckling, canonfire and rum.

Collective

There was a typo in one of my earlier entries in which I referred to a 'kimble of kittens'. In fact, it was more than a typo, it was a malapropism. Haven't done one of those in a long while! What I meant to say, of course, was 'kindle of kittens'.

The good folks at Wikipedia have a selection of interesting collective nouns but I rather like, in no particular order:

a church of squirrels
a bury of rabbits
a crash of rhinoceroses

On another note, the entry from the OED was taken with my camera phone which I've struggled to actually find a use for ever since I got it. Why aren't phones more interesting? they have lights, and gadgets, and programmable features... they should be more fun than they actually are...

Does my tush look big in this?

My camera, the ever-wonderful Olympus E-1, seems to have multiple exposured itself overnight. What ever am I going to with them?

Sociable photography

Can a photograph ever be overly stylised? This week, Den went round to the house of local singer-songwriter Emma Rugg where - as one does - he had a few drinks, played a few tunes on the guitar, and took a few pictures. And, putting them in my Photoshop paws last night for post-processing, this is what we came up with: grainy, high contrast, fashionista moodiness that betray entirely the nature of the evening which was intimate, laid back and great fun...

Does it matter or, in the end, is the image everything?

Madeleine

This week, I have an incurable hankering for Madeleine. This is not about France: I didn't see - let alone eat - a single one of these scallop/space-ship/boat-shaped treats while I was out there this year. But I have a hankering for them all the same: I want to eat lots of them, checking each bulb for alien life-forms; checking the underside for algae and barnacles, as I do.

I also feel an irresistable urge to make them. The madeleine pictured here were bought in a shop. But, today, I ordered madeleine tins, so the next madeleines to appear on this blog will be made by me. Meanwhile, I have to be content with photographing them in the style of Yarnstorm to create at least the illusion of homemadedness.