To S.C. from E.
WHAT have I ever done to you?
I repeat: WHAT have I EVER done to you?
And oh, please DO enlighten me: WHAT exactly did you NOT understand when I said 'I so do not need another addiction'?
My Welshcakes have arrived today. The Welshcakes I didn't quite know how to get my hands on until SOMEBODY thought it necessary to provide me with the address of Welsh Cakes Online. 'You could always try these' he said innocently. HAH!
You, SIR, have been sent by the gods to try me.
Look at them. Just LOOK at them.
They are golden. They are moist. They are buttery without being heavy. They have survived being in a box for 8 days* without developing any kind of staleness.
Oh and these, let me tell you, are the small ones. Do they look particularly small to you? Makes you wonder what size the big ones are. Let's please not find out!
In view of yesterday's determination to get rid of the wobbly bits, I've only had TWO.
Yes, applause IS in order.
It took all of my willpower and then some, but I managed to put the rest of all that golden loveliness into a tin. I then put the tin in a hard to reach place. Just so I can't sleepwalk my way over to them tonight (I swear that's how I've put on many a pound).
And now I'm looking for other victims. I still have TWENTY-TWO deliciously yummy not-so-very-small Welshcakes left and I have no intention of being the only one succumbing to them. If my goal of looking the tiny delicate flower I really am can be achieved a bit more easily by fattening the rest of you, then I'm all for sharing.
I intend to take as many of you down with me as I can.
Not YOU though, Mr. S.C. from E.
YOU are not getting ANY. Serves you right for leading me astray.
* I could have already had my hands on these last Thursday if it wasn't for the fact that:
- The letterbox turns out to have a ridiculously tiny slot
- The mailman kept coming when I was out instead of following his regular schedule. Should not be allowed. What is the world coming to.