My daughter sat in the front room occasionally screaming "What are you doing?" but I was engrossed in my work and feeling warm all over. I placed the mix in the tin, popped it in the oven and then pondered about what else I could make.
"What about dinner?" my daughter sarcastically remarked.
My hubby came home from work lifting his nose in the air "What are you making, it stinks" That's about the level of encouragement I get, so I just ignored his comment.
The loaf seemed to take forever -- far longer than the recipe had stated. I checked through in case I'd missed something but I'd done everything to the book. One and a half hours it said -- it was fast approaching two and still not done! It was beginning to burn around the edges - "This thing will take forever," I thought as two hungry mouths mocked my attempt.
I took the decision -- It's coming out no matter what! I placed it on the cooling rack --it was heavy, it steamed and looked very un-appetising.
"What's that?" my hubby remarked pointing his finger -- "It's rock hard", knocking it with his fist. "Tell you what-- make a couple of hundred of those and we can use them in the gable end!"
Cheeky monkey! I had a sunken heart. My hopes for a lovely tea loaf, a blackened brick. I don't know where it went wrong? I'd done everything right but obviously it wasn't.
The geese will get a feast today -- if they can chew it that is!