Kippled

After another long interval, here is another random post. It's not really a case of nothing to write about - rather the reverse, but by the time I think of something to say, the moment is past, or my grasshopper (well, Toad) sized brain has skipped onto something else. 

However, yesterday was Father's Day, and although I realise it's a totally manufactured date (originally a bit of positive discrimination for blokes), it does provide an excuse for Cake, and I have to say that Mrs JBJ does make exceedingly good cakes. She's good at lots of things, but put her behind some flour, eggs, butter and sugar, and the result will always be divine.

I should point out that I was never that much taken with a plain Victoria sponge, which I'd always regarded as a bit insubstantial, but layered with half an inch of proper buttercream and strawberry jam, and topped with meringue icing, it is anything but. We also now have our own eggs, thanks to Gertie, Genevieve, Geraldine and Ginger, but that's another blog post, which I will get round to any year now...

"Do you like Kipling?" said the hopeful young suitor.
"I don't know" said his intended, "I've never kippled."