Cook Till You Drop!

I have been baking all day today, with my ten year old daughter who absolutely adores Doris the Aga. We have made chocolate eclairs and a carrot cake. Since we got the Aga we bake and bake and bake. I will be the worlds biggest women if we carry on like this.

I love my Aga and can't believe it took me so long to get one. Just to add that I've just popped into the simmering oven to cook at a gentle heat, some leak and potato soup for tomorrow lunch time. Domestic Goddess I am!!! Nigella move over.

Oh God not again!

I woke up the other day to the wonderful aroma of dog poo, again. Yes, darling Henry has done it again. Was I pissed off at 6am? Just a tad. So, after hosing and cleaning I was knackered and ready to jump back into bed, but was too scared to leave him again in case he pooped once again.

Normally, I like to wake up to the smell of fresh coffee, obviously Henry appears to have a different idea at the moment. I love him dearly, but you can have too much of a good thing. However, while sat in the vets, at £60 a time, this is what it costs for the jabs and special food to clam his bottom, I realise it was probably my fault. I gave him a tiny bit of chees and I know that some dogs are Lactose intolerant, it would appear that, yes, Henry might well be. I hope so, and nothing more scary.

Vodka, Vodka where are you?

You will all know that I am partial to a little or rather a large VAT. (for those of you not in the know that is a vodka and tonic.) Well on many occasions I have gone to pour out my favourite tipple and stood with amazement looking at the nearly if not empty bottle. And my question has been, 'Who has been drinking my VODKA!' Now, as there isn't another voddy drinker in the house, it can only be one other person ... Henry. See from the picture above the tale tale signs of a drunken dog.