Home again, home again.
I got back to my flat at lunchtime today. My flight was very early which meant everyone in the house was up by 6 30. Kerry Sister was feeling under the weather, I had kindly given her a cold, so Mr KS drove me to the airport. It was pitch dark when we left the house.
On Saturday night the Surly Niece and her bf came round for dinner. I made this cake which was delicious but unfortunately I misread the recipe so cooked it at too low a temperature for the first 40 minutes which meant that it was still hot when I had to ice it. The SN helpfully pointed out that I could call it sauce rather than icing and then it wouldn't matter that it was a bit runny.
At the dinner table the conversation got round to what we would all do if there was a huge disaster and civilisation broke down. This was triggered by a discussion on Ebola and the fact that in all of Ireland there are only two beds suitable for patients with this kind of illness. Oh, and the fact that Ebola is coming to London on the 26th October according to Grazia magazine. The SN and her bf will be moving to the Blasket Islands and Kerry Sister is taking to the hills in the event of an emergency. I admitted that I never think about this kind of thing and have no plans whatsoever to deal with a disaster other than to put as many photos as possible on to Instagram.
Specualtion then turned to what would happen at Titter of Wit Street if the food and fuel ran out in London. The SN's opinion was that Soda Farl would be the first to die and I wouldn't be far behind him however she reckoned that Traybake would have the sense to stay alive long enough to be able to survive the entire thing although he would probably have to eat me and SF along the way.
When I got home I had a bath and then I lounged about all afternoon.
TB made me dinner and now I am in bed and trying not to think about work tomorrow.