Sunday, 6 September 2009

Miss Jones FTW

I know, I'm sorry. I've had a lot on. But look:

I am no longer a prematurely middle-aged, slightly apologetic runner-up in life. I am a winner - OFFICIAL. The Lambeth Horticultural Society says so.

My busy metropolitan lifestyle meant I only had time to enter one category in the society's summer show. Freestyle flapjacks.

No recipe, no rules - this was Extreme Baking.

I was not confident of the outcome. Everyone else's flapjacks were neater, squarer, fairer of colour. It would not be verbal overkill to say that mine looked slightly rustic in comparison. Also, in terms of ingredients, I had thrown in the kitchen sink, if your kitchen sink is made of chopped dried apricots, sunflower seeds and pine nuts. Mine is not, but the world is a big place and everyone is different. I wondered if a pine nut might just prove too edgy for the straits of serious competition. Dejected, I phoned Mrs Jones who, in her capacity as retired art history tutor, delivered a rallying speech on the importance to society of avant garde artists, no matter how cruelly they may be pilloried by their peers.

I felt much better. And then I saw the results, and felt much, much better. This was almost as good as getting to the finals of Radio Norfolk's Sixth Form Challenge.

I am attributing my victory to my lucky pink paper plates. It is entirely possible that I have unwittingly used some kind of colour therapy to influence the judges. Look at all the entrants:

Doesn't mine just remind you of a summer meadow bright with flowers? In a room that is also home to lots of carefully arranged floral displays battling for your consideration, I'm counting this as no small achievement.

Simultaneously, while the judges are tasting my work, the pink card beneath is making them feel warm and nurtured, as though they're back in the womb.

Next time, I'll be using a sound chip like they do in birthday cards, so the plate plays soothing whale song when someone from authority approaches. I've got my eye on a shiny silver trophy.


Salvador said...

Your mum sounds nice. My parents cut out my bad reviews and stick them on their wall. Sample of my mum's conversation about a TV programme I had written for.

Mum: Did you do the last couple? I thought they were very good.

Me: (wary) No I did the first two.


Mum: I do think it's a show that's really got better as it's gone on.

Miss Jones said...

Oh Salvador, you can have temporary custody of mine, should you ever be in need of encouragement. She would like that, I think. Perhaps she could spearhead some kind of agency offering mum pep talks to the needy, although you would have to be careful as that would attract a LOT of weirdos. She no longer drives, so couldn't pick you up after clubs and parties, but she is excellent at sports-day cheering and any kind of fete/stall-related baking. Costume making also yields good results, but may provoke large amounts of Mum Swearing from the direction of the sewing machine.