A gazillion grams of sugar

The knitting group was a blast. On the invitation I sent out, I told everyone it was a Mad Hatter's tea party. Of the 9 people who arrived, four had not read the invitation in full and were a bit surprised when I plucked hats from my collection and plopped them onto the uncovered heads. (Drat, I forgot to get photos. Oh well, without a digital camera, how could I share?)

One of the regulars (who has had to miss our gathering several months running) showed up, properly hated, and bearing chocolate chip brownies, and a tin of her killer biscotti. This, plus the mini cupcakes with lemon glaze, the full size chocolate cupcakes with peanut-butter cup baked inside, the sticky bread (still warm) the fruit salad, and the marinated artichoke hearts, gave us a completely full table. I had pots of tea and about a gazillion grams of sugar in its various incarnations.

Suddenly it was 12, and everyone had places to go. My DH had stopped by Home Depot while he was avoiding all those nattering women, and he realized that it's past time to plant things. So we went back and bought tomatoes and peppers and pumpkins, took them back home, and stuck them into the raised beds. I think these might be wild tomatoes. We had to put them in cages.

And when the plants were planted and the dishes were all washed and put away, and the whole place was tidied up, and I was still vibrating like a hummingbird, it occurred to me that I may have had just a weensy bit too much sugar and tea. When it all wore off, I crashed like a rhino shot by a tranquillizer dart. Oh, I do love an afternoon nap!

DH and I went down to the neighborhood grocery store and hit the salad bar for dinner. Krab and green stuff was all that I wanted.

So I got up this morning, snuck a peek at the funnies, and finished off the last four servings of the sticky bread. With a cup of leftover, microwaved tea. I sealed the biscotti in an airtight box and hid it on the top shelf of the cupboarrrd so at least I have to stretch a bit to get it. I boxed up everything else for DH to take to work and give to his co-workers. We call them, "the locusts." They will devour anything. If I overbake a pan of cookies and they turn out hard as rocks and black on the bottom, we give them to the locusts and they're gone in fifteen minutes. Stale cake? Give it to the locusts. The locusts love it when I host the knitting soirees because they get enough comestibles to last half the morning. Just listen on Monday morning, and I'm sure you will hear the contented chomping of happy locusts.