Readers, it's Friday. The day I limp towards each week, the way a woman dying of thirst limps towards the oasis in the desert. At long last, I've arrived. And it's turned out to be a mirage, just like in the story.
My exhaustion levels on Friday usually mean posting someone else's efforts in the "I Caked It Myself" series ... and I'm kind of doing that (hang on, it's coming).... but I am also delighted to surprise you this week with an extra cake from The Book!
You may remember that Melanie won my 100-Facebook-followers competition. Melanie who recently had a second baby and STILL managed to get up five minutes later and bake her two-year-old son a batch of cupcakes. Whoa. Respect.
Well, we've been corresponding, and I am newly in love with her. Not only is she clever, and funny, but she requested a cake for THIS WEEKEND, and didn't hang onto her prize for six months and then ask for a cake in the middle of the Christmas holidays or something. Which would be my worst nightmare. Thank you Melanie!
So today I am hand-delivering the Hey Diddle Diddle cake to her. She even has the grace and consideration to live just around the corner from my office. Seriously, could she have made this any easier? Best. Winner. Ever.
Melanie chose the moon cake for her daughter's full moon party tomorrow. It's a Chinese tradition to hold a party when a baby turns one month old (maybe because in the olden days babies didn't always make it to a month? Is that too morbid?).
The baby undergoes a host of rituals and then there's lots of blessings and gifts, and traditional food such as red eggs and special cakes (which is where I come in with my awesome moon cake, of course. Ignore the orange dots in the icing, they're little bits of gel food colouring that I COULD NOT get to mix in properly. Sorry, Melanie.)
Melanie writes: we aren't very orthodox and sort of follow traditions vaguely according to what my mum sort of thinks it might be. And google. But there will be eggs and special cakes, although I have no plans to shave the baby's head, mostly because she was born with an awesome head of hair and I think she should get to keep it having obviously spent so much time in utero pushing it out of her scalp.
I endorse that decision, Melanie. If I was a baby in Melbourne in winter, I would want to keep ALL of my hair. And possibly grow some more. All over my body. And then I could prowl around in my house and scare my parents who would have no idea that they'd given birth to a were-baby. With teeth. And red eyes. Who was out for their blood. Hang on, I'm getting carried away.
Perhaps it's the effect of the moon.... hooooooooowwwwwwl .......!